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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 7 months

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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 8: Birthright

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your wish comes true.

Hello! Welcome to the FINAL CHAPTER of this instalment, another 8000+ word chapter! Everyone's long-anticipated 'claiming scene' is here, so please give a round of applause to our angryboi, the Cannibal! Keep in mind that I've officially retconned Luke and Daeron's ages (they're 8 and 9 in gevivys now, not 5 and 6 like they were originally - please let me know if I've missed any instances so far!), Thank you to my boobear @ewanmitchellcrumbs for beta-ing this thingo!

TRIGGERS: more abandonment issues, reference to pervy suitors.

Scarcely any time passes between that eve and the arrival of Rhaenyra’s firstborn son, Jacaerys.

’Nyra’s world changes when her baby comes. She is as perfect a mother as you think any woman could be, spending nearly all the hours of the day looking at him or holding him or caring for him. Having a babe has changed her, softened her hard edges and given her a calmness she had once lacked. All she wants to talk about is him. When she is not talking about him or being with him, she is in Council meetings, or she is with Papa performing whatever tasks the heir to the Throne is expected to do. She tries to find moments to spare for you, though it is far less often than it used to be, and she always brings her boy with her.

Jace is a pretty babe, dark-haired and dark-eyed, so unlike either of his parents, and he always seems quite serious in expression—but there is something that holds you back with him. Even though you love him—and he is one half of ’Nyra, so of course you love him—it is like a wall exists between you and him. His mother is your sister, and his father is your cousin, and you… you have no place there. You are on the outside looking in at a life you cannot have.

A part of you wants to stare down at the babe and tell him that you were here first. That you will always have known his mama for longer than he ever shall, that nothing can take away the fact that she belonged to you before she belonged to him. But you don’t. ’Nyra is a new mother, and her child should be all that matters. If you were her babe, that is what you would want. She does not need the petty jealousy of her little sister to ruin things. It is better for you, for her, for him that you find other ways to fill your days.

Daeron’s birth makes it easier.

It is almost like Alicent barely even notices the arrival of her third son, though you do not blame her. She had screamed so loud that even you had heard her in your own chambers. It was not like that with Aegon or Helaena or Aemond. The commotion had been enough to rouse you from your bed to creep toward the Queen’s apartments, to hear Grand Maester Mellos tell Papa that her belly might need to be laid open like—

No. No. The throb of nausea is so vile just thinking of it. You put it out of your mind, doing your best to ignore the prickle of an old hurt and the word ‘Mama’ on the tip of your tongue, hushed and afraid.

Alicent is weak after the birth, and so you take it upon yourself to visit your new little brother, to keep him company where everyone else would have left him to attendants. He is so, so quiet, as though he is ashamed of the way he had entered the world, the way he had hurt his mother coming out. It is like he is an apology for the pain she was made to go through. He is sweet, barely crying though he goes for times without the attention he deserves, and he never fusses when you reach into the cradle to lift him up. You are not quite strong enough to carry him around places, but it is relatively easy to take him to the chair to prop him on your lap in the nursery while Helaena plays.

When Alicent heals, she makes no attempt to disturb your routine, and it is like you have your very own baby to match ’Nyra’s. Sometimes, you imagine that Daeron is yours like Jace is hers and that you are ’El’s mama too, and that you have the important task of being their whole world. Even though the idea of having babies is beginning to scare you a great deal, being a mama is nice. Playing pretend is nice.

But then, the wet nurses come or Alicent comes, and your brother and sister are taken away. It reminds you that you really are alone, after all. ’Nyra giving birth to her next son, Lucerys—Luke—only worsens that feeling. Her family is growingand growing while yours seems to only exist on borrowed moments. Still, you take what love you can and bury the rest of it—the despair, the resentment, the soft tender parts of you that cry out for someone, anyone at all to really, truly see you—far, far below the surface, so deep that no one can touch it, not even you.

You seek solace in knowledge.

Books become your very best friends. The older you get, the easier reading becomes—you leave behind folktales and children’s myths to begin browsing through tomes with smaller letters and larger, more difficult words. Stories turn into histories and treatises on all manner of topics, with dragons, direwolves, men, and the fall of Old Valyria being but some of your preferred subjects of study. You learn the names of the Lannister kings before the Conquest; you gather as many legends on the Age of Heroes as you can; you peruse chronicles detailing the first coming of the Andals to Westerosi shores. Through books, the very land you live upon seems to unfold like a map through time itself, all the secrets of the continent opening themselves up to you through tooled leather and yellowed pages.

It makes Papa immensely proud. “If a woman is to sit the Iron Throne after I am gone,” he says, “then perhaps a woman ought to be her right hand!”

You can tell this makes his other Councilmen nervous by the way they share glances. For all that Rhaenyra has been heir for years now, there are still many among the court who believe your brother ought to succeed him. But Papa does not seem to want to change his mind, for he is as determined to see your sister continue to attend Small Council as he always has been.

Still, you take it to heart. Being Hand of the Queen someday means that you will get to stay with your sister even if you are made to be married. It means you will be important in a way that you haven’t really been so far. But a good Hand has to know so so much about all the lands and people a King or Queen might encounter during the years of their reign. You outgrew Septa’s lessons moons ago, and the more you read, the more it becomes apparent that books aren’t enough to teach you all you need to know. There is no one and nothing that can help you become the cleverest possible version of yourself in King’s Landing—at least, not one willing to do such a task. The maesters would not abide by schooling a girl in the higher arts.

Thus, you firmly decide upon the gift you would like for your name day. Standing in the King’s solar two moons before the occasion is to take place, you impart your desire to your audience of one.

“I wish for a tutor, please,” you tell Papa. “Someone who can teach me anything I wish to know.”

Papa laughs. “And what is it you wish to know, my girl?” he asks. You are unsure if he is amused or delighted by your request.

His question makes you think. What do I want to know? There is no single answer you can produce. How do you describe the feeling of wanting to know something you don’t know enough about to be sure you want to learn it?

“Anything,” is what you reply with. “Everything.”

“Anything and everything.” Papa takes a drink from his cup, his nose scrunching when the liquid inside hits his tongue. You do not think it is wine. He returns the cup to the table beside him, reaching his hand out to you. You move forward to take it. “A lofty request. But you are soon to be ten summers!” He grins. A scab at his temple cracks with the motion. “That, I think, is a milestone worthy of celebration. Very well, daughter,” he says with a grunt. “If a tutor is what you want, then a tutor we shall find.”

He stays true to his word. Not long after you make your appeal to him, all manner of strangers the Realm over make their way to King’s Landing to seek an audience with you and Papa. It is the first time you are allowed to remain by his side in the Great Hall, though it means you must balance atop a twist of melted-together swords to rest your rear against the edge of the armrest, one of the few places upon the Throne that cannot cut you should you make contact with it. Papa insists, however, for these people have gathered to seek employment with you, and so you must be the one to approve them.

There is frightfully little to approve. Several of those who come to answer Papa’s ravens ignore you wholly, their eyes sliding over you as though you are not even there. One of them, a man named Robert, outright refuses to answer your query as to what would make cyvasse lessons so appealing to a girl of your station. It is enough to put you off the game entirely. But his conduct is by no means the worst. There are younger lads who possess no more skill than the average knight’s squire, clearly hastened to the Red Keep by the promise of a lucrative wage and companionship with the King’s daughter. More than one Septon shuffles in to lecture you and Papa on the merits of providing a holy education to the female mind, sinful as it is. Even noblemen like Lord Rosby come to offer to take wardship of you, suggesting that growing up with another girl your age is more than enough learning for a Princess. You suspect his proposal has more to do with the large sum he owes over East.

You and Papa reject them all, sending them away with nary a further glance. Those who grow angered by the refusal are easily frightened off by Ser Criston’s hand coming to rest on his pommel at the foot of the steps. Since Alicent had appointed him your sworn shield some moons after Rhaenyra’s wedding, he has taken to his task with a dedication that would worry you if not for the fact that he is made to take breaks. You think that if he were allowed, he would set up a pallet beside the door to your rooms to keep constant guard over you.

Four days after your tenth name day, someone different arrives. Someone new.

“Presenting Ser Lysan Marios of… er… the Free Cities!” the guard announces.

You crane your neck in curiosity as this Ser Lysan makes his way into the hall. He is dark-skinned, light-haired, and his robes are an odd assortment of various fabrics stitched together. It appears well-made, if unusual, and the colours are bright. Reds, blues, yellows, greens, oranges—it seems as though every shade is represented in the patches making up his attire, though you note that purple is missing. Not a noble, then. The man ambles slowly inside, helped by the use of a cane.

“I am from Volantis, Your Grace,” he says when he is finally within earshot, bowing lowly. His voice is deep and rich; if a hug were to have a sound, you think this would be the closest you might come to finding it. “But I do suppose ‘of the Free Cities’ works just as well as any other epithet.”

“You have come a long way, Ser,” Papa says. He is smiling like he always does when these visits begin. You wonder how long it will take for it to fade this time. “You are welcome here in King’s Landing.”

Ser Lysan laughs. “I certainly feel welcome! Such pleasant people you have here, Your Grace. Not a single one has attempted to steal my books thus far—and I confess I have brought plenty!”

This is what spurs you to finally speak up. “Books?” you ask. “What kind?”

When his eyes meet yours, it is like they twinkle, like stars. His mouth widens, exposing pearl-white teeth. “And this must be the young Princess to whom I would be most glad to embark upon the journey of erudition with! Salutations to you, Your Highness!”

He bows again, attempting to cast his arm wide in a flourish—but it appears he had forgotten he was carrying one of his aforementioned books in hand, for it promptly clatters to the floor when he flings his hand out. You giggle, charmed. You cannot help it. He seems so kindly.

“Oh! Oh dear,” he mutters, crouching to the ground to collect his quarry. “My apologies, Your Grace, Your Highness. Oh dear…”

Ser Criston darts forward as if to help, but the man has already taken hold of his prized tome by the time he is close enough.

“Ah—might I ask what areas you are learned in, Ser Lysan?” Papa asks, clearing his throat. His brow has furrowed ever-so-slightly, which means he finds the man before him a little confusing. It is more than a little funny. “My daughter has yet to decide upon an avenue of study.”

The embarrassment slides straight off Ser Lysan’s face. It is as though a bolt of lightning courses through him, such is the sudden shift of his expression into one of sparking joy. “Oh! What am I not a scholar of? I have studied in the physicians’ arts with the Healer’s Guild of Lorath; I have attended the great histories of Westeros and Essos with the esteemed intellectuals of Braavos; I have amassed a more-than-considerable lexicon of tongues across the known world—”

For a reason unknown to you, this piques your interest. “Languages? You know different languages?”

He nods. “Oh, yes! I am quite proficient in your ancestral tongue, Princess. Valyrio Eglio udrir jaehenka issa.” High Valyrian is the language of the godly. He winks. “I am also well-versed in the Eastern dialects of Valyrian, though admittedly they have not the lyricism of their originator. But I must confess, it is my particular interest to devote my academic prowess to the Lekh Dothraki, the tongue of those who ride.”

Papa’s knee twitches beside you. “The Dothraki? How have you come to make dealings with them?”

Ser Lysan waves him off. “Oh, I would not profess to be so grand as to make dealings with the horse-riders of the East! Ah, but mine wife was a Dothraki woman, who gave herself to me in payment for preventing a Volantene herbalist from poisoning her brother. A strange and alarming custom, I once thought. She was the most marvellous of creatures.” He sighs. For a moment, he is silent—then he jerks nearly full-bodied, as though he is awakening from some reverie. “The Dothraki are a misunderstood civilisation, Your Grace,” he says to Papa. “It is my hope that, in time, I am able to repay my wife’s goodness and bring knowledge to those who are ignorant of their ways.”

“I see,” Papa says. He coughs awkwardly. I don’t think he has ever met someone so inclined to talking, you muse. “And… what of your wife now? I had thought the Dothraki were opposed to crossing the sea.”

“They are.” Ser Lysan’s expression becomes shadowed, drawn. “It is my great sorrow that she has passed on to the nightlands, to roam the skies among the starry khalasar of her people.”

“My condolences.” This sounds more genuine; you know that Papa too still mourns your mother, even though he has Alicent now.

“My gratitude, Your Grace. But”—at this, he lightens, forcing a smile to his face once more—“that is not what I have come to discuss, is it?” He turns to you. “My apologies, Princess! If I am so fortunate as to be deemed worthy by you, you may well find such tangents a price to pay for the lessons I have to impart. I am not well known for brevity, I am afraid.”

He’s the one. He’s my tutor. You know it. The way he speaks so happily about all the things he has learned; the way he cares so much about showing that some people are not always what everyone else thinks of them; the way he talks to you as though you are a person rather than just a means of earning coin or living in a palace. You want to know what it is like to be surrounded by that happiness, to spend your days learning from a person such as he rather than continue to quail under the yoke of Septa Marlow.

You readjust to curl into Papa, to lean forward and whisper into the shell of his ear. “I like Ser Lysan, Papa.”

“You do?” He exhales, a long-suffering sigh of resignation. His stare narrows at you as though irritated, though it slowly morphs into a grudging sort of smile. “Naturally.” If he were ’Nyra, he would be rolling his eyes by now. To Ser Lysan, he projects his voice far louder and says, “It appears my daughter has no taste for brevity, Ser. If you wish to take up this post, we would be… honoured… to accommodate you.”

Ser Lysan’s brows raise in surprise. “Oh! No, Your Grace! The honour is mine!” He bows a third time, and it really ought to be excessive, but you cannot help how amiable you find him. “I pray I will not disappoint you, Princess.”

“I am very glad to meet you, Ser Lysan,” you say, fighting the urge to leave Papa’s side and go forth to follow the man before you wherever he might go, to let yourself be enthralled by his tales and his rambling, half-formed thoughts. “I hope we shall have a very good time together.”

You are not to know it at this precise moment—but you will.

“We have made our introductions, Princess, and I have learned the lay of the land as best I can, so to speak.”

Ser Lysan is settled in the chair opposite you, having just completed his surveyance of the room around him. You have been granted a solar for the very first time, a whole new chamber to fill with the tools necessary to begin your education. It is empty for now, though the bare necessities are present—namely, the considerable size of the bookshelves just waiting for their occupants to rest safely upon their surfaces. These will, in time, be filled by both your own and your tutor’s collections, or so he has assured you.

The crinkle of a page rouses you from your thoughts. Ser Lysan has unrolled a scroll of parchment, the nib of his quill already inked and prepared for some unknown purpose. He stares assessingly at you.

“What is it you wish to know?” he asks, hand poised to write.

It blurts out of you before you can think to stop it. “You can only be called ‘Ser’ if you are a knight, but you have said you are a scholar. How is it that you have come to be called ‘Ser’, then?”

You wince. Your question is far ruder than you had intended it to be. Thankfully, Septa is not here—she has begun spending more time with Helaena as of late. She would surely have reprimanded you. The query only serves to make the man smile indulgently at you, though. He lays the quill to the side upon his blotting paper. The ink pools dark across the fibres.

“If you must know, Princess… I was a soldier in the Battle of the Borderland. The triarchs sent us in to attempt to wrest control of the Disputed Lands from Lys, Tyrosh and Myr. They were once under Volantene rule, did you know?”

Ser Lysan gazes at a spot on the wall just past you, and it is like he is seeing something altogether different. Something from another time and place.

“At first, we were sure of victory. Volantis has long held dominion in the East for a reason, after all. Our armies were larger; our armour finer; our steel sharper. But then…” He sighs. “Those cities joined forces. Formed the Triarchy. No one saw it coming. We ought to have. Such is hindsight, is it not? We understand now the things we missed then.”

Ser Criston shifts by the door, clearly uncomfortable. You wonder when he will interrupt, when he will instruct Ser Lysan not to tell you such dark-natured stories. You can only hope it will not turn violent.

“One morn—the sun had barely risen—our garrison was set upon by the Triarchy’s forces,” the man continues. “It was… carnage. So few of us survived. Of those of us that did, even fewer still were able to stand. The alliance’s warriors enjoyed leaving a rather particular token behind on the battlefield, as we were to learn. Severed legs are quite effective deterrents, it turns out.”

“That’s enough,” Ser Criston barks, face set in a glare. Secretly, you are glad for the interruption. The tale had grown far too frightening for you.

“My apologies!” Ser Lysan says, coughing lightly. “I forget myself sometimes. To answer your question, Princess—I was able to make my way back to the main encampment, to warn the commanders just in time for our troops to pull back from the region. Many a life was lost; but thousands more were saved that day. I was knighted in the field.” A wan smile curves his lips. “That is where my title of ‘Ser’ comes from.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you say. “I… I am sure it is not a pleasant memory. I am sorry.”

“It is quite alright. I became stronger for it. I learned that if I wish to survive, I must fight for it with everything I have in me. The fires of adversity strengthen the spirit.” He pauses, eyes locked onto your own. They are dark, almost black, like all the light in the world has been quenched. “Let this be my first lesson unto you—if you want something, you must do whatever is in your power to achieve it.”

Silence lingers for one moment; two; three. All of a sudden, he is cheerful again, shuffling his papers like nothing of import has occurred. You share an uncertain look with Ser Criston, who looks positively bewildered by the shift. Ser Lysan is an eccentric man, you decide. This is no bad thing.

“Back to my previous question, Princess.” Ser Lysan picks up his quill once more, dipping it in the inkwell and tapping it against the rim to return the excess to the bottle. “I am knowledgeable in a great deal about the world in which we live. What is it that you would have me instruct you in? Histories, statecraft, linguistics?”

Before you is a man who has lived. He has come from a strange land bearing a strange name, learned in all manner of strange subjects. He fought for Volantis. His wife was a Dothraki woman. He bears the title ‘Ser’ and yet wears a patchwork robe. What you know of him is bleak and terrifying, and yet here he sits before you, as jovial as a young man in his cups. There is a steady peace to him despite all he has seen, all he has likely experienced.

How has he come to be so merry? You think about the manner in which he’d brightened at the talk of his learning. Could one achieve such simple tranquillity through knowledge alone? Can books, can foreign tongues and foreign disciplines empower you with that sense of fulfilment you crave, that sense of belonging you have felt absent all your life?

You want dearly to discover the answer. It is this that permits you to finally settle upon your response to him.

“Anything,” you breathe. “Everything.”

You are not as brave as your sister. She is able to stand face to face against even the staunchest of her detractors—as of late, this being your very own lady stepmother, determined to discover what she believes to be ‘the truth’ of Jacaerys’s parentage, for a boy so dark of hair cannot possibly be Laenor’s, by her reckoning—without so much as a quiver in her lip. She can endure shouting, the strike of a switch, the endless train of whispers that seep through every crack in the walls of the Keep with barely a pause in her breath to mark the ignominy of it. She can laugh in the face of humiliation and continue on her way with her head held high and some cutting remark poised on the tip of her tongue like a steel barb waiting to meet its target. These are not things you are capable of. But then, you are only a girl; younger than Rhaenyra was when she was made heir.

Yet old enough to finally—finally—claim your own dragon.

It had taken you years to wear down Papa, the scar on your arm serving as a perpetual reminder of the dangers that lie ahead in seeking out your birthright. Whenever you had made the request—“oh, please, Papa! I swear that I am ready!”—he had only to look upon the mark bisecting your flesh before his eyes hardened, the musculature of his neck clenched and poised to shake in refusal.

Once, his rejection had been sufficient to prevent your asking for several moons’ turns at the least; but Ser Lysan has been of great influence in his two years serving as your teacher, your companion, and your dear friend. If you want something, you must do whatever is in your power to achieve it. These words have remained as carvings in stone within your mind since that very first meeting. It is not within your power to unleash fire and fury the way your sister might—but you have come to learn that such a thing was never in your power. Your strength lay in other qualities. Your courtesy. Your placidity. Your modesty. These are strengths in their own way.

You had continued to ask. Over time, the nature of your appeals changed from churlish, infantile insistence to restrained, unaffected enquiry. Upon rebuff, you had smiled and said, “Very well, Papa. Thank you for listening.” You had repeated this same tactic over and over, sennight after sennight, until, at last, Papa had been worn down to his bones from weariness.

“You’ll not let up, will you, my girl?” he had asked, utterly fed up.

Instead of responding, you had simply maintained your carefully blank gaze, prepared to don your quiet acceptance like armour when his denial should strike. He had sighed; rubbed his eyes. The pull of his skin had cracked open another fissure in the lines of his face, red slowly beading up to the surface.

“Fine!” he had finally exclaimed, his hand thumping down upon the table so hard that you had wondered at his not feeling it. This was before the maesters agreed to remove it from his person, and so the flesh was mottled grey and black from rot. “Do as you will, daughter. Far be it from me to dissuade you.”

Thus, the ravens had been sent to the Dragonkeepers residing on the ancestral isle of House Targaryen; the ship had been made ready; your retinue arranged; and you had been sent off on your first great journey.

The moment you step foot upon the shore in the low light of early evening, you hear it. You feel it. Like a rattling in the core of your bones, or an unearthly siren song catching faintly on the wind. It is not a sound, though, nor a sensation that you can describe in any language you know. All that you are sure of is that there is something here, something… expecting you.

Come, it says. I am waiting.

The Keepers linger past the shoreline, scarcely a stone’s throw away. “Urnēbās, darilaros!” one says, eyes darting nervously about. Be watchful, Princess! “Va īlō Zōbrios issa.” The Dark One is near.

“The Dark One?” you ask, frowning. “Who is that?”

Septa Marlow’s face pales so starkly that she looks like she has applied paints to her skin. She seems entirely distasteful of the island itself, a curl to her lip that she only gets when seeing or hearing something she does not like. Meanwhile, Ser Criston’s fist tightens on the grip of his sheathed sword. He too glances around, tracking the skies like a shadowy shape will make its appearance at any moment. He seems familiar with the name.

It must be a dragon, you think. Very few living creatures reside upon the island, save for those that had been introduced by your blood long ago. Dragons are the only wild things that can weather such inhospitable climes.

The Keeper leans in. “The Cannibal.” He shivers. “He is most wroth as of late. Beware of the beaches—too many of our Order have been lost to his appetites.”

The Cannibal. It is a story you have heard only when one had sought to frighten you—that of a winged beast so monstrous that not even his own kind would endure him. A creature so malevolent that he found his joy through death and destruction, ripping apart the younger members of his species so thoroughly that, at times, it was as though blood rained down from the heavens. The Cannibal, a being so malignant that any man who attempted to ride him had vanished cleanly from the face of the earth, consumed whole or left to rot away in some deep, dank pit below the mountainous terrain.

And yet—for all his supposed cruelties—no cities, no villages, no lands have been brought to waste beneath his flames. It is the one part of those tales that had never made sense to you. If he were as awful as that, surely there would be no one and nothing safe from him?

“Let us not waste our time, then,” Ser Criston says firmly, hand pressed between your shoulders to spur you onward. The weight of it grounds you in the present. He turns to bark orders at the attendants making their way ashore. “To the Keep!”

You are taken past the Great Hall, catching a glimpse of the Painted Table on your way to a smaller chamber. You know the name of Aegon I’s table is not quite correct; that it is made mostly of wood and rock, and that the rock itself is what Ser Lysan has told you is thermoluminescent, ‘thermo’ meaning heat and ‘luminescent’ meaning light. The table glows like lava when you ignite the candles below it, casting the great map of Westeros into fire. You should very much like to see it. But this visit is not to take in the sights of your family’s seat.

Much to the Keepers’ confusion and consternation, you reject the offer to examine the eggs they have concealed within the hatchery. Or rather, you feel that the eggs would reject you if you should try to seek your companion in one. It is difficult to explain even in your own mind, so you make no attempt at voicing these thoughts—these almost-whispers at the back of your mind, like a soft brush of fingers at the base of your skull.

Septa Marlow huffs her displeasure. “This is most unbecoming of you, Princess. You ought to know better than to refuse a gift such as this.”

‘They are not for me,’ you want to say. ‘The thought of them does not rouse me.’

You know not why you feel certain of this—that the mere prospect should stir you beyond simple anticipation. But it is as though you have always known this, for you do not find yourself disappointed by the missed opportunity nor by the censure.

A faint recollection sparks from your earliest youth, an old fear of what should occur if an egg comes into your possession and refuses to hatch, turning to stone over years and years. You do not wish for such a future. No; it is for the best that the eggs are left for another. Another time, another day, another person. Perhaps when it comes time to have your own children, you will revisit the notion.

To make matters even more complicated, however, there are no hatchlings upon the isle. It is what you had counted on all this time, but it seems that this is not to be, either.

“Zōbrios pōnte iprattas,” Acolyte Zūgis tells you, wringing his hands for good measure. The Dark One ate them all.

What a nervous man, you think. Since meeting him on the beach, he has been continuously anxious, ready to jump clear out of his skin at the slightest disturbance. You wonder if his path is best suited to Dragonkeeping if he is so afraid of it.

“Pōntālosa sikagon kostis, yn jēdraro toliot dorolviktys se dorolviktys sittaksi.” His mouth twists. Sometimes they hatch by themselves… but that has become rarer and rarer over the years. Your stomach twists at this. There was once a time where dragons hatched aplenty upon the isle. No more, it seems. “Vermithor dārligon kostā, darilaros. Yn uēpys issa se zaldrīzāeksio bōso jēdo syt mijetas. Qopsa kessa, se avy hinikilāks.”

You can try to claim Vermithor, Princess, he concludes. But he is old and has long since been without a rider. It will be difficult, and dangerous.

Neither Septa Marlow nor Ser Criston understand High Valyrian—but the name Vermithor agitates them nonetheless.

“A dragon of such size and stature is not appropriate for a well-bred lady,” Septa exclaims, fingers like claws clasped together before her. “What of Silverwing? Good Queen Alysanne’s mount? Does it not reside here? ‘Tis far more suitable beast.”

The Keeper shakes his head. “We believe Silverwing is gravid. She has shown much aggression as of late. The last of us to attempt approach…” The silence that hangs at the end of the sentence leaves no mistaking his meaning. He clears his throat. “Well. It is far too perilous at present. Vermithor is the Princess’s best option.”

“The Princess is a child,” Ser Criston says, expression flat and eyes flinty. “Vermithor is a dragon of war. I am sorry, Princess”—he kneels before you, angling his head up so he can look directly at you, and one hand folds around your elbow—“but I cannot let you risk yourself so.”

You know what you are being told, albeit in a roundabout way. The despair renders you mute. What am I to do? What am I to do? You nod, an agreement to your sworn shield’s words, though your heart is scarcely in it.

“Perhaps on the morrow,” the Keeper says, “we may… reattempt with the eggs, then. We have several, though they have been kept for some years now.”

Ser Criston makes his agreements to Acolyte Zūgis, entering into discussion with him and Septa Marlow as to the following day’s schedule. None of them so much as turn their faces to include you, despite the fact that you are central to their plans.

While they talk, another thought comes to mind. You wonder why none have so much as dared to broach another possibility—that there are three wild dragons upon the isle. Silverwing and Vermithor are not your only options.

Sleep is hard to come by, that same, pulsing sensation tingling through your limbs and keeping you awake.

Come, it seems to say. I am waiting.

You rise before the sun comes up. Septa Marlow is likely to be awake at this time, but she will not venture your way until the skies are bathed in light. Ser Criston does not begin his shift until an hour after you rise; his replacement is usually whomever can be spared.

It is even easier than usual to make your escape.

Dragonstone is an old fortress, and so there are a great many secret passages winding between rooms. You need only to check behind the tapestry along the inner wall to determine that an opening has been concealed. Brandishing the candle from your bedside, you slip into the looming maw that awaits.

Inside, it smells of damp and salt, and you can hear a faint, steady drip. It continues no matter which direction your feet take you, and you feel your breath stream from your mouth and nose in a cloud of warmth that gives the skin of your face and neck momentary respite from the wintry chill. The walls are rough-hewn, made for function rather than appeal, so you are careful where you place your hands.

Because you are so unfamiliar with the layout, you wander for what seems an age before you finally surface upon the outdoors, a dim glow emanating from between metal grates at the end of a dark tunnel. The hinges squeak shrilly as you push them open, shutting behind you with a clang. Your slippered feet sink into the sand upon the beach.

You do not know where you are headed—to find Vermithor or Silverwing, to find one of the wild ones, or simply to wander. All you know is that one of them is calling to you through the magic of old, the magic that ’Nyra and Papa have always said lives in the blood of the Targaryen line. It is how Papa knew that he was destined to be Balerion’s last rider. It is how ’Nyra found the courage to mount Syrax when she was so young. You feel it now, singing in your blood as it has since you crossed into the shallows surrounding the island.

Come and find me, it says. I am waiting.

You trudge along the beach, allowing the sand to sink into the opening of your shoes, to fill the small spaces between shoe and skin with stinging grit that collects between your toes and rubs to rawness. The wind whips at your hair and your robe—you did not bother to change from your evening wear—and the sound of the waves crash like thunder.

You walk. And, as you walk, you wait for the purpose to reveal itself, a part of you hoping that whomever you are meant to claim will find you.

You ought to be more careful of what you wish.

A dark shape swoops across the sky above you, casting you even further into shadow, and you hear the rumble of something powerful. The beat of its wings is great enough to be heard from a distance, you think, and stirs up the sand before you into a cloud of dirt and dust. The beast growls, deep and terrifying, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

It lands ahead.

Oh, no. Oh, no.

The Cannibal.

He is enormous, far greater in size than Syrax, than Caraxes, than any dragon you have ever seen or read about. His scales are black—no—blacker than black, the complete absence of colour or brightness, and each muscle honed from years upon years of eking out his existence ripple below the skin. His lips peel back, exposing at least two rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Perfect for tearing me to bits, your mind supplies in your panic. His stocky frame hunches low, claws sunk into the sand, as though poised to attack, and he hisses, a rattling threat that fills you with the urge to run.

His eyes glow green. You feel it again.

Come. I am waiting.

What is it Ser Lysan said, again? If you want something, you must do whatever is in your power to achieve it.

Come. I am waiting.

It may be courage, it may be madness, but you are moving onward before you realise it. The dragon hisses again as you approach, and any moment you expect to be bathed in dragonfire or snapped up in his almighty jaws, but your footsteps remain as rapid as your heartbeat.

The attack does not come. The fire does not come.

Something more is at play here. You may only be twelve summers, but this you know. A dragon as fierce as the Cannibal would never let a person so close as this under ordinary circumstances. Old magic thrums through the air, a tether forming between you and the form ahead. A bond. A claim.

You reach out a hand. Skin to scale. Heat that ought to burn courses through you, but you are safe. You feel his pulse, your pulse, pounding through dermis, reforming your own to match.

Your eyes well. “Gierior glaeson ñuhon avy rhaenagon jumptan,” you whisper. I have waited my whole life to meet you. In the rumble he releases, you think he must believe the same of you.

Dressed only in your nightgown, you make the climb up his wing. He lets you, chuffing irritably as you seek out the correct handholds and footholds to make your way up. It is entirely different from mounting Caraxes; this dragon is much, much larger, and so you are forced to actively coordinate your movements to ascend the perilous terrain. Still, there is enough of memory remaining to you of that day, years ago, that you can draw some reference from. You rely on those recollections to hoist yourself up. Finally, you are able to settle somewhat awkwardly between the blunted spikes below his neck.

From far off, you can hear faint voices. Atop the crest of the Cannibal’s shoulder, you look to the horizon. The sun has risen. The world is awake, which means that Ser Criston and Septa Marlow will be leading the search for their wayward princess.

It startles the dragon. Before you are ready—before you would even have dared to tell him to fly—he shifts, growling so deep that the vibrations buzz through your legs, your toes. You jostle where you have perched, gripping frantically to the spike in front of you as he sets off on a crawl that morphs to a run, building momentum to flap his wings up and up and up—

“Princess!” echoes through the breeze as you rise. Below, you see the forms of the guards, of Ser Criston, of Septa, growing smaller and smaller as the dragon—your dragon—takes to the air.

You keep hold of the Cannibal’s spike as he soars through the skies, letting the wind billow your hair about. It is both the same and so, so very different from your first flight. It is freezing up here, for one thing, and you can discern no sound but that of the air whistling so stridently in your ears that it is like a shriek, and the dragon below you is warm enough to keep the worst of the chill at bay. Your belly swoops and twists with each wingbeat, the momentum rocking you forward every time, but none of the discomfort is enough to tamp down the sheer exhilaration.

The Cannibal turns, revolving away from the distant line where sky and sea meet toward the island again. The change in direction gives you a momentary reprieve from the rush of air hindering all noise, and you hear something else.

Beneath your legs, beneath your skin, you feel it as the Cannibal bellows to the world, a roar that pierces the still of morning and announces to all that his wait is over. That he has claimed his rider, that you have claimed your mount—that you have done what no one else has been able to and emerged victorious.

That feeling—the one that has plagued you—has changed, you realise. You have found me, it seems to say.

Yes, you think, turning your head to admire the expanse of this creature, this being who is and was always meant to be yours. I have.

When you land, Ser Criston and Septa Marlow nearly shake you from your body with the force of their panic, their vexation, their “You do not ever run off like that, do you hear me, Princess?” and their “Just wait until your father hears of this!” They try to dissuade you from your course, but the Keepers wring their hands and mutter that the deed has been done; there is no unbinding what has been bound by the magic of old.

Still, their refrain is just as shocked, just as bewildered. “The Cannibal, Princess,” they say, shaking their heads. “The Cannibal…”

“No,” you reply. “His name is Athfiezar.”

Dothraki is fairly new to you, ‘tis true, for Ser Lysan did not agree to teach you until well into your acquaintance. And there is a certain irony in the choice; many a person will surely raise their brows in question of your use of such a savage tongue, which is rather best suited for a dragon of his reputation. But the word—the name, for he has long gone without one, and it seems only right that he should have something of his own, free of the censure of old—seems apt enough. Love. That pure, uncorrupted kind, the kind you think you have been searching for your whole life, the kind you find in small moments that are never, ever enough for the gaping maw that is your heart awaiting someone to fill it. You just know the Cannibal—Athfiezar—is a creature with a soul like yours. How long has he gone without love?

Never again, you think. Not with me.

You hold onto that thought as Papa rails at you upon seeing the hulking behemoth touch upon the top of the Dragonpit, heralding your return to King’s Landing.

“You could have died! What in the blazes were you thinking, girl?” he yells.

He has never yelled at you before, and perhaps you might have cried once, but you keep firm to the memory of Athfiezar’s eyes upon yours, the life palpitating through his immense form into yours like some sort of cycle, elemental, mysterious. No matter what Papa says, no matter how he says it, it is as the Keepers said. The deed is done.

The news spreads like wildfire, bringing with it a most unwelcome attention. For much of your life, you had been largely ignored by court and commons—now, with having claimed such a dragon for your own, many a considering eye falls upon you. Their thoughts are louder than if they spoke them: perhaps we have gotten the wrong measure of this one. Perhaps she is worth more notice than we had given her. Invitations to tea come to your door with a regularity that is almost predictable; and, maybe worse, many an enquiring lord approaches Papa with the pivotal question upon their lips: “When is she to be wed, Your Grace?”

Your mother was wed at eleven—it is not impossible that you should be given to some man to settle a treaty or forge an alliance in due course. It is your duty as Princess, after all. One day, yes; but not now. Besides, all they truly desire is the power you have suddenly amassed. They do not want you.

You retreat into yourself, using all the courtesies Septa had imbued into you like plate steel to shield yourself from the worst of it. Save for your two freedoms—your Ser Lysan and your boy, Athfiezar—you commit to being the most polite, the most recalcitrant, the most dull creature you can be. You help ’Nyra with her boys where you can, for a useful girl is best kept than discarded, and your sister is the heir which means her rule will someday be law. You take on two ladies, noblewomen from Houses in the Reach, in accordance with your stepmother’s wishes. You try your very best to devote time to each, spreading yourself between what is rapidly developing into entirely separate factions in the Keep—the Princess and the Queen, the Blacks and the Greens, or so they are called. Such silly names, you think. And, over time, it all becomes less performative and more intrinsic. Your propriety is your defence, and you use it well.

But it will not last forever. One day—one day soon—you will be called in by Papa. You will be told that your life is no longer to be your own, but passed on into the care of a man you will call husband. You will be asked to choose he who will be your master, he who will use your womb to give his House sons and daughters of royal blood, and you will be expected to be glad for the opportunity to make the decision, that it was not taken out of your hands entirely.

You wait for the day, spending what evening hours you can in the Sept entreating the gods for their intercession. Please, you think, on your knees before an effigy of the Maiden. Please. Deliver to me a husband who will love me as I am.

You wait, you hold your breath, and you pray.

“The claiming of the Cannibal came as a great shock to the Realm, not least because of she who had claimed him. King Viserys’s younger daughter by his late Queen Aemma Arryn was by all accounts a diffident, well-mannered girl most unlike her elder sister… Several parties were of the view that the Princess ought to be wed quickly to keep her mighty mount out of the hands of those considered less than desirable. However, it was not until the year of 126 A.C. that the King finally consented to the courtship of the girl, with many a man seeking her hand. Of those suitors, only three were truly deemed worthy—Lord Jason of House Lannister, Lord Denys of House Tyrell, and the Princess’s own half-brother, the Prince Aegon.”

- 'Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros' by Archmaester Gyldayn

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eyesthatroll · 1 year

Text

how many drinks? | luke hughes

pairing; lh43 x fem!reader

warnings(s); none really, fluff? lowercase intended, not edited. also written in like 15 minutes so kinda bad (might rewrite/re-edit it at a later date idk)

word count; 0.6k (blurb!)

summary; luke approaches reader at wedding reception

"do you want to dance?" you lift your gaze from the game of candy crush that you were currently enthralled in.

a tall brunette is staring back at you. he looks down at you expectantly, rolling on the heels of his feet. "do i know you?"

the boys cheeks tinge pink, and he runs a hand through his slightly curly hair before speaking again. "n-no, i just, i don't know. you look bored."

his awkwardness brings a smile to your face. you ponder his offer for a moment, the song 'skin' by dijon playing through the speakers.

the dance floor had a few couples on it, the other guests scattered around the room, eating cake or loitering near the bar.

you flip your phone screen side down, and chug the rest of your drink. "sure pretty boy, let's dance."

you lift your hand up, and he take it in his, easily pulling you out of your chair. he leads you to a small corner of the dance floor.

your arms rest on his shoulders, hands crossed behind his neck. his hands finding home on the small of your back.

"i never got your name." you state, the two of you swaying softly.

"luke." he answers sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed that he hadn't already told you his name.

"so, which side are you here for, luke?" you asked, your fingers beginning to absentmindedly play with the hair that coiled at the nape of his neck.

"oh, um, the groom. he's on my team."

you brows raised in confusion. "i didn't know you were a player for the devils, not sure i've seen you on the ice. though, i've only watched maybe a few games so i could be completely wrong"

"i haven't-well not yet, at least. i just signed my contract a few weeks ago." he says.

"that's exciting," you begin. "leaving college, i presume?" you're not sure if your questions are too personal, but luke makes no moves to ward them off.

luke gives you a bittersweet, close lipped smile. "yeah."

"that's got to be hard, leaving your friends?"

he tilts his head, thinking a moment. "i mean, yeah, but i'll still see them. plus, i have jacky, and the rest of team-they've been pretty nice and welcoming."

you nod in understanding. "so jacky, she your girlfriend?"

" oh god no!" luke sputters, his cheeks painted crimson again. "that's my brother-jack. he plays for the devils, too."

your eyes widen, and you kick yourself internally for your assumption. why would he of asked you to dance if he was in a relationship?

" 'm sorry, i shouldn't have assumed." you apologize, shaking your head slightly to yourself.

"no, it's all good! i'm single, by the way."

"professional hockey player gets no bitches?" you tease, feeling more comfortable with him by the moment.

he lets out a breathy laugh, his hands tightening around your waist. "i think i do okay with..the ladies." he trails off.

you mouth an 'okay', and dramatically nod your head.

"just looking for the right girl, i guess." he finishes.

"that's understandable." you agree.

"and you?"

"looking for the right girl?"

you laugh at your own joke.

"no-no, i mean, beautiful girl like yourself must have..suitors."

luke's face contorts into one reminiscent of pain.

you followed suit, cringing at his choice of words. "suitors?"

you laugh at him shamelessly, a big bellied laugh that draws attention to the two of you on the floor, not that either of you noticed, too engrossed in your own world.

luke pulls you closer to him, burying his head in your shoulder. "stop laughing."

—

mari speaks! again, like mentioned in the preface, wrote this super quickly so not edited/kinda bad but i might re-do it or make a part 2 idk. also, luke’s playing in his first playoff game tmro so make sure to wish babyboy some luck <3

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #nj devils #new jersey devils #umich boys #umich hockey #hockey #nhl

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faetreides · 3 months

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alsooo… food for thought! modern!coryo learning that you’re a virgin and what he’d be like when he gets to fuck you for the first time 😏😏

🍽️ SEND ME ASKS ABOUT CORYO, LUKE CASTELLAN, OR ANAKIN (THIS IS A THREAT)

CW: afab!reader, feminization/use of bride/reader's pussy is assigned she/her pronouns, extra extra political empire heir coriolanus snow in tears over pussy read all about it, fair amount of marriage talk, mentions of being willing to murder others & trap reader, mandatory sejanus mention, coryo puts on his person suit just for you <3, this is not the darkest point in the au but the au is "soft" dark content overall

One thing about modern!coryo is that he gives you much more grace than some of his other friends would have. (Festus is "rumored" to be carrying multiple stds and Felix's family has a whole section in their budget just for child support. Sejanus is the only one in that group that's kind of normal by comparison.) When you start dating, he can tell that you're inexperienced at least; but the green-eyed monster always on his shoulder doesn't let him fully believe that you're a virgin.

He's... patient unlike most college boys. He's horny beyond comprehension, but he doesn't latch onto you like a leech after the first date (He's so kind 😊). Sure, there's a festering need sweltering under his skin and boiling his blood, but he's no strange to playing the long game. To him, every time he fucks you is going to feel like your wedding night (Cause he's in this for MARRIAGE). You're the only one he would use the phrase "making love" with. Before you, every other whore that hung off his dick was just there because he was high on his status (and a couple other things). He apologizes about being with others before you as if he were actively cheating on you.

He'd pay to have them disappear if you wanted.

Anyway.

He finds out in a benign way; you're making out on your creaky twin bed in your dorm. (You hadn't moved in together at the time, so he had to settle for his long limbs awkwardly knocking against the wall and nightstand every time you were getting intimate.) He keeps the kiss going as he rises up on his knees and nudges you on your back. He shoots his hands out under your body to catch you just in case (and so you can't leave).

"Wait….” You say and bury your hands in his hair to try to pry his mouth off of your neck, “Coryo, stop. I need a second."

He almost pouts but he relents and moves back to hover over you. Some of his curls dangle down and tickle your face but you just scrunch your nose up like a bunny at the feeling.

His brow furrows in confusion, "What is it, baby? Are you okay?"

You squirm under his body for a moment in embarrassment until you decide to just rip the band aid off. You run your hands up his torso and over his shoulders, curling them around the nape of his neck and giving him the little head scratches he likes. His eyes flutter shut as electricity shoots up his body.

"I'm uh...... I've never done this before, ever." He barely hears it with how quietly you whisper.

He can't help teasing you in response, "Baby, you can just say that you're a virgin if that's what you are."

He chuckles when you "playfully" smack him in the chest. Coryo makes sure you can watch his gaze soften as he brings a hand up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You've given him a gift, and Coriolanus Snow is nothing if not an avid appreciator or gifts. He leans down to rub the side of your nose with his, bringing his other hand down to press on your lower belly.

"Petal... I don't care that you're a virgin, we don't have to do anything today. I won't mind, don't worry."

He can see your brain working hard to make a decision, the cogs in your cute little head turning. You don't bite you lip for very long (which is a good thing because his dick was about to explode) before you're canting up to kiss him.

You've gotten a lot better at it overtime, and Coryo has adored every second of helping you get to that place. He's never been in love before so it's almost like you're teaching him new things too. He wonders if this is how his father felt, only having room in your heart for one person and closing it to everything else. He almost can't blame him, now that he's got you.

It was all going so well until he's wrestling your lace down your smooth legs, he's pressing tiny little pecks along your skin as your underwear travels. He doesn't quite take them off and just leaves them pooled around your ankles. The material stretches as he slides his hands up your inner thighs and spreads them.

You give him your best 'do NOT fucking rip my underwear' look but he just sends back an answering 'you know I'll buy you new ones.'

The puffy pussy that winks up at him makes him want to cry. Aphrodite could come down to earth right now and bend over right in front of him, but all he'd see is his future wife's glistening folds. He'd never really found a cunt cute before, but yours was bringing forward yet another wave of cuteness aggression. You have no hope of getting through to him once he's got his thumb hooked under your hood. He honest to God coos as he gently scrapes his thumb nail against your clit.

The giddy laugh that bubbles up when you involuntarily kick at him makes your cheeks heat up in what is unfortunately not embarrassment.

"Shit." He sniffles and wipes away an actual tear as he tilts his head to the side to get a different angle, "She's beautiful..."

It's the same tone he'll have when he says his vows.

Coryo then decides that he's tired of waiting so he tugs your panties off your ankles and uncaringly throws them somewhere on the floor. He smiles and lays down in between your legs, leaving some space in between your bodies so he could see where you two will be joined.

His curls hang in your face again as he leans down to nip at your nose, so you won't really notice when he shoves his pants down.

You can't hide how much you want to see all of him, he watches you glance down at his hard cock that slapped against his stomach as it flopped free. Despite Coryo obviously not having the biggest build in the world, the third leg he's been apparently carrying around all this time is more than enough for him (and for you). It's an angry sort of purplish red, thick and long like his fingers with a mushroom head that might as well have been calling your name.

"My eyes are up here, you know." He chides you as he gets your attention back on him by shaking his hefty cock in his balled fist, getting drops of salty pre cum on your pussy before sandwiching it between your folds.

He blissfully sighs and tosses his head back as if he were a king celebrity a long-awaited victory with a toe-curling fuck.

Essentially, he's like "fresh pussy just for me 👉👈🥺?” He's sat right at the dining table and ready to dive into his favorite three-course meal (your holes).

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cloudcountry · 5 months

Text

SUMMARY: a handful of insecurities the ikemen guys would adore.

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: happy holidays everyone!! i hope this makes at least one person feel loved by their fav <3 just know that this isnt a decisive list and that no matter your insecurity your favorite suitor would adore you to bits.

you might think that they're silly for adoring your stomach so much, worshiping any extra fat or polished muscle you possess. they revel in your softness, burying their face into your midsection whenever they get the chance, kissing the skin there when they wake up and resting a hand over your belly button when you two go to sleep. if you’re ticklish there, watch out, because they take great joy in poking and prodding you just to hear you giggle.

arthur, dazai, will, charles, luke, silvio, edgar, kyle, seth, loki, masamune, mitsunari, motonari.

they don't understand what’s so embarrassing about your body hair. to them, it adds a sort of human softness to your legs as they run their hands down your calves, feeling the slight prickle of where each strand begins and ends. they think it’s beautiful, smiling so softly as they cup your knee, rubbing their thumbs across your skin. they do the same to your arms, cherishing every inch of your body, just to remind you that even if you don’t like your body hair, they do because it's you.

leonardo, vincent, faust, clavis, zero, sirius, fenrir, mitsuhide, shingen.

your nose is often where their kisses land, sprinkling the bridge of it with their love and affection. they caress your face so tenderly as they bump their nose against yours, and you can feel the smile on their lips when they lean in to kiss you again. no matter what shape or what size, they will never stop thinking that your nose suits you just perfectly.

isaac, jean, leon, yves, sariel, keith, jonah, luka, dean, oliver, hideyoshi, keiji.

they think your acne and your scars are beautiful, even if you hate the way they look on your body. they insist it could never take away from your beauty, that you will always and forever be radiant, even with the red marks and the dull, faded scars. they’ll help you take care of them so you aren’t hurt, but they will never let you believe that you’re ugly. that word should not be associated with you, not when you have constellations speckled across your face and scars that are on their precious love and their precious love alone.

napoleon, sebastian, licht, nokto, alter keith, ray, dalim, mousse, yukimura, kanetsugu, kicho.

...and along with acne, they know you could never look prettier, especially not without your cellulite or stretch marks or anything in between. they trace the folds and warps in your skin with reverence because you are their love, their light, and their darling, and for as long as they live they want nothing more than to be able to hold you. because you are a human being who is worthy of love, if not for your humanity then because of your humanity.

mozart, theo, comte, vlad, jin, chevalier, rio, gilbert, lancelot, harr, blanc, nobunaga, ieyasu, ranmaru, kenshin, sasuke, yoshimoto, kennyo.

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Text

come out and haunt me, i know you want me — jj maybank࿐

summary; putting words in jj’s mouth after an unexpected pregnancy has you uneasy about the future of your relationship along with a gnawing emptiness of what jj will think. warnings; pregnancy, one mention of throwing up, suggestive, talks of sex, fluff, all of my characters are always aged up but they had to be in school for this so i set them in high school, as seniors, making them 18. this takes place somewhat in season 3, except JJ’s house never got the eviction notice and they went back to school. also mention of luke. did it this way cause i felt like i was i need of a new setting other the chateau (rip it will be missed :/) pairing; jj maybank x fem!pregnant!reader authors note; decided to put this one out, as i have gotten a lot of requests about dad!jj and i’m giving them a separate masterlist of their own. i figured they needed to be in order lol. so i guess in a way this can be considered the first of dad!jj series. cred to gif owner !

You’re spiraling over the life forming inside of you and JJ—oddly enough is fretting about his class project final. Something that would usually be of no concern to JJ, but he actually wants to pass senior year.

Building an ancient, time-consuming model of some old landscape and having an actual child were two completely different things. From opposite worlds and of varying natures.

Spontaneous cravings all the way down to a late period.

It’s instinct really, to skip school and confirm your suspicions— though, it’s pretty much certain. JJ caught on half way throughout the school day, so wrapped up in this project that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away. Sneaking out of the exit door after throwing up rancid lunch. If he was aware, there’s not a doubt that he would have followed. He was the one that showed you that escape route from the hell site on a monday long ago when school was too much to bare— that was when the two were freshmen, for now they are seniors carrying the weight of the future on their shoulders, including the plus one in your belly.

You’d sobbed profusely into your knees, they were pulled all the way up to your chest on that tiled floor. The detrimental pregnancy test, with two lines, is sat atop JJ’s bathroom counter, taunting you in a manner of ‘now you have to face me.’ Debating whether or not to take this as life altering or life shattering. You knew JJ like every crevice in the palm of his hand, but you could never be set on his reaction for something like this. Always prominent in his ways about 'being in this for the long run', could having a baby change that?

You had to tell him, there was no other way around it. For it's always been a do tell promise that nothing goes unsaid in the relationship.

"What the fuck am I gonna' do?" Is all that curses past your lips repeatedly through choked tears.

The tears are not for the tiny being inside you; its fear. The fear of the unknown, or the uncertainty. So young, so much ahead. A small sliver of a thought that maybe you'd have to do this alone.

Your heart almost falls to the heals of your feet at the doors opening and closing, and the throwing down of book bags. Shakily pressing your finger to the phone that's beside you, the time reading 2:30 PM, meaning school was over and you'd have to get your act together to face JJ. Whom, had left you several missed calls and text messages concerning your whereabouts. Even so, it would be of no surprise to JJ that you were here; basically, here every day and home when you had to be, that's how the story goes. It's imaginable that you'll be sticking around as often as you'd be able to, because telling your parents would indefinitely make them disown you. Having a baby with the Luke Maybank's son and the towns 'well-known kleptomaniac' wouldn't exactly be music to their ears. The only positive in that picture is that Luke's not around, you and JJ have been slumming it in his childhood home since. You'd helped him fix it up so that it would be 'livable', and he adored that someone would cherish him that much to do such things. He'll have another form of adoration, soon enough though.

"JJ, a beer is not gonna' help you get this shit done."

You could hear John B mumble at JJ, and as it would to most curiosity strikes. Taking in the push and pull of the standard refrigerator, not far away, the bathroom, kitchen, and living room all but feet away from each other. Easy access to eavesdrop and hear whatever words were to slither out of someone's mouth. God, you swore the walls were bound to cave in and topple atop of you. You picture John B's mouth agape and disgusted at JJ's lack of focus.

"Get's my brain goin', y'know."

His voice that you'd usually get giddy everywhere from hearing, is now taunting you; making your insides turn to mush. Quick to your feet, you clamp your ear to the chipped door whilst fixing your disheveled hair in the mirror, by tucking it behind your ear and wiping away the salty tears with pad of your thumb. Something JJ would do impulsively. As well as, the little pink and white stick that's knocking the breath from your lungs and tucking it in the back pocket of your printed shorts.

"You ready to start?" John B sighs exasperatedly. Aware that his best friend is never prepared for anything. You aren't sure of what they are 'starting' but you can't help but wonder if JJ's caught on, if he's noticed the tendencies you've acquired since becoming pregnant. Already being hesitant on telling him of the stick you peed on, or that this is going to dictate the course of the rest of his life. Is the new formation of hormones within you causing you to twist words or is it plain truth?

One could only hope.

"M'not even ready yet, need to do so much stuff before I'm ready."

It stings; like multiple daggers had been chided at your heart or a million bee's attacking. This only makes since that he's referring to not wanting to be a father, right? What else could he possibly not be ready for? It's assuming, it's jumping to conclusions, but right now it makes a hell of a lot more sense than anything else. JJ's capable of eons of things, being stuck with you and a baby for the rest of his life may not be in his peripheral. He's confirming it right now, you just heard it with your own two ears.

Unbeknownst to you it was a about a damn silly school project and that he would've stretched time and space to keep his profound little family in one piece. If only he'd known. If only you'd told him.

There were no supplies, no class instructions, to justify that it was only a monumental historic copy for Mr. Sunn's class. Just conversation.

You physically can't allow the words to come out of your mouth, for it will be in the form of word vomit after his resonating and everlasting statement. You can't face him, no, not about the life he helped form. Too soon, and too much. Selfishly, he's not ready but you want to hang onto him a little longer. With JJ is where you reside, and you desire to bury the love he's giving you and harvest it deep down; enough for two. He's not prepared, and all you're hearing is this is this the end of all you've ever known.

World record for misunderstandings.

John B was on the verge of speaking, yet he doesn't when the bathroom door creeks open. You appear in frame, a shell of the person you were moments ago, unevident that you'd shed enough tears for a small river. The hiding is beginning, you decide to swallow it down and keep it there. Dreaming up all the ways you'd have to conceal as huge a secret as this.

Trepidation; of JJ, and for yourself and the baby; blistering, mirroring that of an open scar.

"Is that my girl?!"

You're met with John B sprawled out on the vacant leather couch, another thing Luke destroyed alike with JJ. And, JJ's practically jumping from the recliner and swarming you in a hug that makes you form a half enticing grin whilst smothering you into his large chest. His sleeveless arms bulking in size at this gesture.

"Great, now we really aren't gonna' get anything done," John B grabs at his temples in annoyance. The partnered project supposed to be the focus of today. Conscious of the fact that anytime you are around JJ loses all logic because you become the center of attention. As if half his brain flies out the window he's so invested in you, rather than anything else. He gives up on any aspiration that this replica will be finished. You still saunter on about what exactly they 'have to get done', but they are almost always up to something. JJ's out of context words were what gave need be, and you were fixed on that.

"What happened today? Been thinkin' about you like crazy."

"Nurse sent me home."

You fib so harshly that is burns past your lips, the lie is so loud you're amazed he didn't see through it. You mumble into his chest has him releasing you, only to cup your cheeks in a squishing manner. He’s disastrously anguished to maul you with affection, but he decided to spare John B the show.

"Everything alright?"

And he tries to read your wandering eyes, but still taut eye contact is there so he thinks nothing of it. It is when you won't look at him that he's concerned, however you still do.

An 'act normal' practically engraved in your thoughts. When you really want to break away from his hold and run for the hills.

"Just a bad lunch."

"Yeah, that school meatloaf'll get you, baby."

Blonde fluffed out tresses catch glance and your mixed up mind is pondering on what color hair the baby will have. Will the small child be a constant reminder that their dad 'wasn't ready?" Stood together in the open space of his connecting hallway, you'll look back on this in utter agony.

"She told me to rest."

You mutter it softly whilst JJ has a stupid lovesick grin plastered on his face, peering down at you like you are his lifeline. And you're peering up at him, with a small glint and awareness that he'd be gone with the wind when you reveal the surreptitious unknown.

"Want me to come with you? I'll have this wrapped up in like ... five minutes," he's eager that you'll say yes, mustering a middle finger at John B who is sighing in vexation. What he would give to pass senior year, John B fully know's he'll have to beg Pope to do this for the both of them.

It's an immediate no, he's 'not ready', therefore a cuddle is the last thing that needs to happen. Maybe if you wouldn't have eavesdropped you could've just lived in ignorance bliss.

Though it was never the truth.

"No!," you somewhat interject, keeping the cause of all this in mind. "No J, m'really tired, finish what you were doing yeah?"

His grin immediately falls to a pout, he can't force you if you won't let him. Instead he says nothing, shaking his head 'yes' with knitted eyebrows. Pulling your cupped cheeks in closer to feather multiple light pecks to your hairline, each one more eternal that the last.

With recollection that you'd be gulping down this hard to swallow pill on your own.

Coping; all you can manage to do.

Between punching multiple hard to find holes in your bedroom walls and covering them up with posters to gut-wrenching, pillow-screaming whimpers.

How does one ever truly 'get ready' for bringing a new life into this sought out world?

You'd been wallowing in the despair of having to be both a mother and a father, with JJ saying such things— it's nearly certain he'll be out of the picture.

Alike with you, avoiding him on any given occasion.

Saturdays were date night and he consistently topped the last date, because even if schedules weren't aligning throughout the week he'd have that day to make it up to you, how ever he saw fit.

You ditched.

Texting something about, 'parents are on my ass, can't come tonght.'

On all occasions you found a way despite your parents thoughts, so JJ's suspicion is growing like immovable fire.

With that being said, a day later, he was secure in providing you with a loving semi-guilt trip, along the lines of 'if you don't come over tonight you are confirming that you don't love me anymore,' with a dauting smiley face.

Such a baby, unfortunate that he's not prepared for one because they would've gotten along just fine.

The reasoning behind why you are hopelessly distant from JJ in his twin sized bed. He's grumbling and mumbling after you pushed him away with a 'm'too hot right now.' Blankets thrown about in such a dimly lit room, his vivdly colored TV played a miscellaneous movie whilst his bedside table lamp joined in with its yellow toned rays.

His arms behind his head, colliding with the headboard in such a sensous way, shirtless figure scanning yours in yearning. Jesus, he just wanted to delve into your skin.

How could he ever resist you.

If he can't consume you with his fondling embrace, he will caress what's in reach.

Touching hard on his thoughts, whilst the likelihood of raising a baby on your own is arising in yours.

It's roaring loudly, along with the reality that you hid it from him.

What would've been the right thing to do?

A wash of panic prods, with JJ's lingering touch now against your skin. His digits dance like clockwork, ghosting your inner thigh. Before you can even retch out a 'stop' he's beneath the material of your old Bait Shop t-shirt that he lended you. Palming the skin expertly, and while he's at it he inches closer with his breath thick against your ear. Your mouth ran dry, lying still and flat in awkwardness, prying your focus on the random film. The small twin bed not giving you enough time or space to come up with another excuse.

"Missed you so much."

His voice is raspy against your ear, igniting every filament of your body that belonged to him. The hold he had on you, sickening and you are conversant with what's about to leave his mouth.

The more he keeps circling, and clinging to the small mound of your stomach, the more his mind goes blank. It had this particular bludge to it and he can writhe it beneath his fingertips. Horror fills your irises, whilst a bewildering form of fascination filled his.

There's no right way to ask as woman if their stomach has gotten bigger or if they've been eating more. That's like asking to get beat with a bat. You just don't.

JJ has foraged every unreachable portion that molds you and that ... that wasn't there.

That undeniable little Goddamn baby bump wasn’t there.

He’s studied you inside and out, and that just wasn’t there.

It’s freshly shaped and growing with glee.

His repeated motions are coming to a halt and they pause directly in the middle. Feeling for what he deemed this to be.

What the fuck? It runs rampant in his mind— not negatively he just doesn’t know what to think, how to say it, or how to not come off as a complete dick by asking what he’s about to ask.

“Your belly is more round than usual.”

Merely thought out, and not too harsh. Just stating the obvious at the rounded baby bump that’s colliding with his calloused ring-clad fingers. The entirety of his large hand sprawled out in separated fingers. He sits straight up, hairs on the nape of his neck screeched outwardly.

“M’ a bit bloated.”

You don’t take his words to heart as it’s obviously not from that. You smile, lying through your teeth once again. And JJ senses it, this is as pregnant a stomach if he’s ever touched one. His hands fall backward, beaming down at you in longing that you’ll change your answer.

“Bloated baby? That’s— that’s not … bloated.”

There’s no interest in continuing on with this facade he’s felt it, he’s not a complete idiot. What informed John B of chants wickedly and is beckoning you not tell him. You’ve found you way back to his room with reason, so what’s the use in hiding it anymore. The bump would’ve become more noticeable anyway, you couldn’t have gotten away with it forever.

“M’pregnant J.”

You are seated upward now, facing him whilst reaching for his large hands to take them into your smaller ones. Shared hands, facing eachother in criss crossed stances on that same old twin mattress. He shakes his head back in forth in disbelief— how is this real?

“W-what?! When did you find out? How?— shit. I mean I know how … there was the time in the bathroom at the Wreck … and that one time in the twinkie … and-and let’s not forget about the time in the kitchen-“

“J, that’s not important right now, focus.”

You remind in interruption, nagging off his antics about the shared sexual rendezvous. The only only thing … the only fucking thing JJ feels right now is sheer euphoria at the moment he gets to meet the little baby.

Always envisioning of being a father and giving his children all the love he had stored away from the beckoning of Luke. The love he got from his father was convenient love, and after every fight his dreams of the future family he could have grew tenfold.

“We’re having a fuckin’ baby?!”

The fact the you didn’t tell him beforehand is in the back of his mind, but he’s overlooking it in sheer elation. Joy for what’s to come. For even that promise to tell each other everything is not enough to ruin this moment for him.

“Yes, J.”

“Let me see!”

He’s anxiously lifting the bottom of the shirt up, revealing a plump baby bump purging outwordly. And a toothy shit eating grin is plastered on his sweet lips, awe is evident and he’s stricken with amazement. You couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, a better lover. Breezing past the part of him not being ready, because clearly you read into things too deeply if this is his truthful response. And it is, it’s so genuine you feel it in your bones. As he’s colliding his hands with your stomach once more, and connecting his lips with yours in celebration. Molding and mixing them together with ease, an effortless depiction of besot.

If only he could frame this and let it drift on for eternity.

“Carrying our baby so perfect, pretty girl.”

Letting this little heavenscent angel inside of you be a reminder that misunderstandings are a bitch.

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #obx3 #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x kiara carrera #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank smut #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagines

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rustboxstarr · 11 months

Text

🏖Grown Ups🏖 part 1

Summary: You've been pulling away from Eddie recently its not until summer vacation that you finally find your way back to him.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Mom!Reader

Warnings: Holy hell prepare yourself -> worrying about R potentially cheating, angst, talk of sex, slightly derogatory talk of sex, Gareth is a womanizer (Sorryyyyy needed someone to be!), alcohol consumption, thoughts of sex, thoughts tiddie fucking, kissing, Eddie being kinda desperate and horny for sex but trying to be respectful, nudity, R has tattoos, nipple and belly button piercing, body insecurity (Don’t worry Eddies just being a weirdo, she loves herself otherwise!), smoking, Steve being an insightful mama hen and apparently knows how women function (Steves a sweetheart, we want all men to be like Steve), light confrontation, looming anxiety, drunken accidental grinding, groping, R being to drunk to remember ALMOST having sex , threats of violence, tiddie sucking, hickeys, oral f receiving, fingering, squirting, interruptions, talk of oral m receiving, Smut P in V, no cut offs or dividers, sorry forgot to put them in. I tried to stay away Y/N I rly did but I think it slipped in once or twice (Sorry not sorry 😈)

Wordcount: Short and sweet only 22.2k........ (Yeah this fic quite literally ripped the idea in my head and sprinted away with it like it was wanted for murder (Get it? HAHAHAHA (Explaining my jokes, I love myself))

A/N: So I was watching Grown Ups (2010) the other day and thought it was so funny when all the guys talk about how little they have sex with their wives, but then it spiraled and got slightly angsty but personally I love this! Character list and ages under the cut :)

Love yas!

Part 2

Drawings I made for the fic for some visuals 😊

Grown Ups masterlist

Check out my other works!

Max (35), Lukas (35) - twins Eric (6) and Billy (6)

El (35), Mike (35) - no kids

Dustin (35), Suzie (35) - Willow (11 months)

Eddie (41), You (40) - Ophelia (10) and Roxette (7)

Gareth (37) - single, no kids

Luke -unnamed freak (39), Simone (38) - Tom (5) and Oliver (3) - not that it matters but Simone is african american so the kids are mixed incase it might be nice to visualise

Jeff (37), Tracy (45) - Ariana (16) (Tracy's daughter)

Will (35), Winter (33) - no kids

Steve (40), Nancy (39) - Mercy (11), Lousie (9), Rachel (7), Marcus(5), Bianca (3) and Dustin (2)

Jonathan (39), Charlotte (41) - Emma (6), Charlie (4) and Lilly (2)

Robin(39), Vickie(39) - no kids

Argyle (40), Eden (38) - no kids

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Summer 1998, the sun was shining bright against the pastel blues of the sky, temperatures rising all over the country, it was the best time of the year, 10 year old Ophelia and 7 year old Roxette were off school for the summer holidays, you had your 6 weeks off and Eddie took leave from work, cashing his holidays in broken up during the 9 weeks of summer to be with you and his kids. Mid june and the Munson family had gotten the chance to rest for the first 5 days before the roadtrip to Dustin’s late granny’s lakehouse in Muskegon, the five hour road trip delayed with multiple food stops, toilet breaks, a few car boot sales which signs had caught you eye, one mall trip to stave off Roxy’s crying when she realised she forgot to pack her bathing suit and a few leg stretchers to keep both the kids from going crazy in the backseat.

Ophelia had grown up to become a relatively quiet kid, calm, never too temperous and always content with following around with the grown ups plan, god knows how, neither you nor Eddie were ever people to be considered calm and peaceful. In your youth running around being chased by Hopper after breaking into abandoned places, caught drunk encouraging Eddie to piss on the large bronze statue situated in front of the mayor's office, shoplifting, vandalism, disturbing the peace, there had even been one time where Hopper had knocked on Wayne’s trailer door, two embarrassed soon to be adults stood behind him, wrapped up in blankets with not a single other article of clothing on for modesty after giving you both a ‘ride home’ as you liked to joke.

The straight defiance of US laws simmered down after Ophelia came along but partying, loud obnoxious jokes, crazy schemes and dramatic displays of affection were still something very normal for the two of you. Well normal up until the last six months or so where it had simmered down. The both of you were still cuddly and giggly and chummy with each other, but lately it seemed you both had drifted apart, admittedly you more than him.

Roxette however seemed to have taken to both of you, couldn't sit still, always loud, always on the move, yup she was the embodiment of both yours and Eddie’s personalities, the same reason as to why the five hour road trip pushed 9 hours. Roxy could barely handle the 20 minute drive to school…

Up at 8 am packing the kids into the car with plenty of books, comics, cd’s and toys you set out. Eddie at the wheel of your 95 Mitsubishi Mirage while you cozied under a blanket next to him, head lolling on your shoulders threatening to tip you over until you adjusted yourself to sit up against the window as you let that comforting dull, cloudy feeling overtake you and drift you off to sleep. In the back Roxette was fast asleep while Ophelia bobbed her head in tune to Tupak Shakur’s latest album R U Still Down? playing in the round silvery cd player Eddie kept in the glove compartment, staring out at the trees whizzing past the window.

The clock was nearing 5 pm when the car pulled off the bumpy road -with Eddie in the passenger seat- over the gravel parking lot to what Dustin had called The Henderson Castle. A quaint surprisingly large cabin in dark mahogany wood panelling, green chipping edging and beams matching the green steps to the bright blue double doors. Lake Michigan painted the horizon behind the garden, a small private beach next to a short dock attached to a boathouse and a sailboat tied to the wood panels, a rack of 5 canoes resting on the old water stained wood. Wooden beach chairs and plastic loungers framed in by the litter of trees and behind a picnic table and worn down monkey bars.

Eddie took to emptying the boot of duffle bags and food bags while you urged Ophi and Roxy out of the back. Cars of different prince rages surrounded them as things were retrieved out of the vehicle, “Well well well look who decided to show up!” Dusting grinned from the front door, carrying a little girl on his hip who tucked her head into his shoulder in shyness.

Matching grins were shone at the 35 year old as he descended the steps to greet you “What's up man!” Eddie patted him on the back in a one armed hug before he went around to give you a proper hug. “Hi! I’m Roxette” your daughter said excitedly, Dustin bent down to talk to her “I know, we've met before” his voice was sweet and mischievous as he stuck out his hand for Roxette to shake.

You were all hustled into the house where a large group of people were scattered around the kitchen, dining table to your left and living room to your right behind the kitchen, all hollering in delight as your family of four stepped over the threshold. Hugs were exchanged as well as ‘took you long enough’s and ‘did you learn to read the clock in your three years of senior year’s, soon enough a wide spread of food, carefully put out by Dustin's wife Suzie had been devoured and catch ups had been exchanged.

Dustin had taken the duty of showing everyone to their rooms, Jonathan’s three kids, Emma, Charlie and Lily, Luke’s Carl and Tom, Steve and Nancy's six nuggets Mercy, Lousie, Rachel, Marcus, Bianca and Dustin, Max and Lucas’s twin boys Eric and Billy, as well as Ophelia and Roxette were all given the privilege of sharing the well lit and cozy basement. 17 kids with the exception of Willow who had her own little bed with Dustin and Suzie and Ariana, Jeff’s 16 year old step daughter who got her own room, were all over the moon, excited about causing as much ruckus as they could. Parents and couples alike all directed upstairs to the second and third floor for their own bedrooms in the impressive lakehouse.

The time on Eddie’s watch showed 11:32 as he took it off and placed it on his temporary nightstand for the next week when you crawled under the patchwork cover and got yourself comfortable on your side. Teeth brushed, clothes changed, good nights said and bags unzipped it was time to turn in for the night. Something about being on the go for 8 and a half hours and then making conversation in a room full of 39 other people was extremely exhausting and it caught up to you as your head nestled into the plush worn cotton pillow.

You heard Eddie yawn loudly behind you as he no doubt flung his balled up fists out in the air, stretching like a cat by the side of the bed. He rustled behind you until you felt the cover lift and a warm body dip into the mattress, humming as he scooted over to wrap his arms around you and hold your back to his chest. You bathed in his embrace, happy and content cuddling up with your husband until, you felt him move again to press his hips against your. A soft grunt escaped your lips as Eddie pushed his hard on to nestle between your ass cheeks, on display from the back of your threadbare t-shirt riding up.

“Mm Eddie I’m really tired” you groaned quietly, nestling further into his arms wrapped around you. You heard him sigh and had your eyes been open you would have undoubtedly rolled them at his reaction “We’ve been on the go since 8 am, I’m really not in the mood” you further explained “I know baby” Eddies breathed slightly disappointed, in the back of his mind he had hoped that the change of scenery might get you exited, possibly put a stop to the dry spell you had seemed to be going through. “Lets just go to sleep yeah?” he whispered, fingers crossed that his disappointment and slight annoyance at his idea being wrong couldn't be detected in his voice. You hummed in agreement as Eddie slackened behind you and fell asleep.

The morning had been hectic, starting off already at 7 am when both girls rushed in to find their clothes, awakening you as they spoke loudly “Girls you know this” Eddie sighed as he tiredly sat up on his side of the bed, pulling his warm grasp away from you “Knock on the door, don't just barge in” he was slightly exasperated as he told them off “But were on vacation!” Roxette whined as she paused in rifling through one of the bags “Yeah well the rule still applies”. Even though it might be mostly your fault it was still funny that he was dictating a rule set in place so they wouldn't walk in on you having sex when you actually hadn’t even had sex in god knows how long.

The reason why you were mostly at fault for the fact was that yes you were the first to cool down with initiating it but you didn't accept Eddie’s advances even when he tried. But recently you just hadn’t been in the mood, work had been hectic and you barely had time for each other, to top it all off lately you’d just felt a dip in your confidence. The fact that you were now in your 40s just seemed to catch up with your busy brain, you didn't look the way you did when you and Eddie first got together, or even the way you did just a few years ago. You'd always been on the bigger side of scales but that never bothered you, in fact your looks weren’t even the problem, objectively. It was the way you felt inside, old, tired, unnatractive, it had caused you to pull back from him, curl in on yourself and throw yourself into being a mom and a good boss.

Eddie had to keep reminding himself that there wasn't a chance in the realm of possibility that the reason you were staying late at work had anything to do with anything other than work. Something he found himself telling his brain a lot whenever your nearest colleague Greg resurfaced in his mind. Greg was a sweet lovely man who worked just below you, but it was hard to remind himself of that as he thought about the many hours you spend at work alone with him. Even though he was a good kind soul he was undoubtedly attractive, even though he knew you were loyal to your husband and he to his wife and even though he knew he was more your type than Greg was it was still a constant bicker in his brain.

–

The rest of the morning was even worse, such a drastic change from lounging around the house or almost falling asleep on a blanket in the yard as you attempted to read. Kids were everywhere, everyone was talking, moving around and trying to get to the food served for breakfast, it was stressful to say the least. You were used to large crowds, parties, concerts and other events but now it was just too much, and it seemed to show as Eddie wrapped his arms around your shoulders behind you, planting a kiss to your temple as you talked to Tracy, Jeff’s wife. You appreciated the gesture, even though you hadn’t been all too close to him recently and it was clearly beginning to frustrate him he was still there for you, something that made your heart squeeze.

Finally around noon the pace had slowed, some kids were occupied with games and crafts inside while your own played with Luke's, Steve and Nancy's kids in the water. Splashing around happily as Nancy floated around nearby while you took the chance to get to know Luke's wife Simone and Jeff’s Tracy better. Eddie, Steve, Gareth, Jeff and Luke all lounged around on the chairs pushed into the sand just as it turned to grass behind them.

“So Gare, still sad and single?” Jeff chuckled as he sipped a matching cool beer to the rest “Hah! Sad? I’d take being single any day over commitment and fuckin’ kids” he scoffed, legs spread wide as he tanned under the sun in baggy ombre trunks. “Hey having kids aint that bad” Steve grinned “Oh sure, I bet it's a riot being woken up at 5 am by 6 little assholes every morning” he chuckled.

The sun was high up in the sky, water glittering under the shine as it splashed around by the kids shrieking and laughing. “Ugh, had to remind mine to knock on the fucking door this morning, both of them just waltzed in like they owned the place” Eddie supplied as he looked over at you. Stood by the waters edge laughing at a story Simone was telling, his eyes scanned down your frame quickly, lavender purple full briefs that came up to your waist, just below that glittering jem butterfly hanging from your belly button, a ruching detail at the front and a matching purple halter top to match. He had to look away before he began oggling at your round curves at the way the haltertop bikini pushed your tits up to each other, fuck he would have loved to kiss all the way down your throat and over your chest.

“Ooh ‘fraid the kids are gonna walk in and be scarred for life by your pasty white ass?” Gareth laughed at his joke as his eyes flicked over to you too. “Pffft” Eddie deprecatingly shooed “Nah man, that hasn't been a risk for like ages” he took a large gulp of the cold beer in his hands “Now that I think about it, hasn't been a risk since like before christmas”

“That's what marriage does to ya, too high on the feeling of new love and sparkly lights of wedding planning till they dim and she sees your ugly face at the altar” Gareth sat up to inspect Eddie slightly, Eddie laughed along with the others “Man shut up” he managed through a smile.”She's not pregnant is she?” Luke piped up as everyone was now looking over at the subject in question.

From the corner of your eye you noticed the attention and turned slowly with a soft confused frown, Steve and Luke smiled at you as Jeff quickly averted his gaze, Eddie giving you a forced smile before he slapped Gareth's hand down which was waving at you, fingers wiggling as a seductive smiled painted his features. Your frown deepened as you awkwardly waved back and turned back to the other moms.

Eddie's face switched from annoyed to questioning as he turned from Gareth to Luke “What?” his brows pinched as wrinkles formed on his forehead. “Well when Simone is pregnant she gets kinda distant, doesn’t wanna do anything” he further explained. “Nah man she’s not pregnant, she's got an implant”

“Eh, dont beat yourself up about it, me and Nancy barely have any time for ourselves let alone fucking” Steve waved him off. “Yeah well she's had six kids, probably sick of your junk by now” Jeff chuckled, an eye roll from Steve in return.

“I dunno, she's just busy, got alot on with work and the kids” he pushed his sunglasses further up his face as the sun resurfaced out of a cloud. He did not want to mention Greg and listen to Gareth's lude comments or let any of the others feed him delusions. You were not cheating. “Who knows, maybe she's sick of your junk too. Tell ya what, send her my way I’ll get her walking out a happy woman” Gareth smirked wickedly. “If you don't shut your mouth I’m gonna come over there and beat the shit out of you” he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to look over at Gareth who put his hands up in surrender.

“Apart from Steve am I the only one not getting some action” before Gareth had a chance to open his mouth Eddie pointed at him “and you shut up” he sneered. “I mean Ariana’s like 16 so she's never really home, so we do.. get the house to ourselves quite a bit..” Jeff answered sheepishly “Great” Eddie turned to Luke “Mine are fuckin’ 3 and 5 but I mean we have some time sometimes” Luke shrugged “How often is sometimes?” Luke cleared his throat and dropped his voice to an awkward tone “Like.. two… three times.. a week” he looked out at the water.

“Jesus christ, so it's not like a normal thing?” he slumped back in his chair, looking back at you, smiling widely as you now stood splashing water at Roxette, not on the beach anymore. “Have you talked to her?” Jeff asked “I mean no not really, but she's made it obvious she doesn’t wanna do anything, so I've just kinda backed off” he looked back at his friend. “But you've tried like starting something?” “Yeah, less and less now but yeah”

“You tried getting her drunk?” Gareth chuckled but fell dead silent as Eddie began to lean forward about to get up and smack him “Chill chill!” he held his hands out in front of him, awaiting the attack. “I just meant loosen her up a little, get her relaxed maybe put her mind off things”

“You're a dick” Eddie flipped him off “He does kind of have a point, maybe she’ll relax a bit” Luke cleared his throat “We could I dunno all sit ‘round the fire after all the kids have gone to bed. Then she might not have to worry about that ya know?”

“I mean I guess, but isn't that like a complete asshole move, get her drunk just so I can get her into bed?” he made a slight look of disgust at the thought “Not drunk, just a little I guess tipsy?”

The conversation continued for a while before the topic changed to Jeff's new job, all sat in the sun basking in the light, soaking it up and talking about nonsense. Ophelia and Roxy came out of the water and Eddie watched as you dried them off lovingly and led them up to the house. He was nursing his fourth beer, head starting to go a little fuzzy as Simone too sent Tom and Oliver up to the house, Nancy was left throwing Bianca around in the water as the other three laughed and all shouted me! me! Me!’s, Dustin the two year old splashing happily by the waters edge. Simone and Tracy made their way up the sand to sit with the guys.

Tracy told Jeff she was going to check on Ariana as Simone plopped herself down in Luke’s lap happily giving him a kiss following up with a giggle when she pulled back “Jesus how many beers have you drank”. She sat mostly quiet as they all continued, now about some recent U.S news, jumping in to add to the conversation as she draped her arm around Luke's shoulders.

Eddie had his back to the house as he opened his fifth beer and leaning back even more into the chair, he didn't see as you came back out of the house walking down towards them. Only laying eyes on you as you rounded his chair at the end of the row of them facing the water, barely registering you before you stood before him. As the others continued talking he looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something, assuming you had come to ask something of him. His heart skipped a beat as you inched closer to him, his fingertips grazing your thigh. “Can I sit?” you ask with a sweet smile, his cloudy brain was too gone with the cool fizzing beer to register that you had spoken as he broke out in a grin witnessing your happy face, it warmed him to see you, you being happy made him happy. He suddenly realised you had talked to him and shook his head attempting to look up at you more serious, you giggled softly at him as he straightened his face up, but hearing those sweet little noises of content made that dopey grin fall right back into place “I said, can I sit?” your voice was so sweet it made his whole brain stop.

“Oh, yeah” he chuckled as he sat up properly, hands itching to touch you. His dopey grin became even dopier, even wider as you turned and bent down to place yourself in his lap, legs coming to curl up and feet slot between his thigh and the space under the armrest. When you settled Eddie’s hand holding his beer settled over your thighs and his other came around your waist, wrapping around you and pulling you towards him to lean against his chest. He almost died as he saw your smile widen at the action and nestle into him, and then even wider as he placed a kiss to your shoulder. He was on cloud nine at the fact that you were sitting in his lap, smiling away. You haven't sat in his lap for a long looong time and the fact that you did it so easily made his heart squeeze and his head spin.

“Oh Simone you never got to tell me about your trip!” you exclaimed as the conversation quieted down “Oh right! So-” she began to recount her crazy trip to Japan she had taken a few weeks ago for work as Eddie took another sip of his beer, light shock painting his features as you took the bottle from him and took your own gulp while you listened intently. The sun was almost right behind Simone and you began to squint as you tried making eye contact with her, you turned to look down at Eddie for only a second before you realised he had his sunglasses on. Casually you reached up a hand to pull them off him and place them on your nose, Eddie chuckled at the action which made you giggle slightly as you continued listening.

With no glasses on now, everything was a lot brighter, he settled into the new position and calmed down from his excitement and finally got a chance to register what you were wearing. A floral short white skirt he had seen before, he remembered well, because last time you had worn it was last year dropping the kids off at Steve’s for a sleepover. Oh he remembered it very well, last time your worn it you'd snuggled up to him on a blanket in the far end of the garden, hidden by trees and bushes, only to be seen from the house and gotten a little bit frisky, teasing turned to tickling which turned to Eddie lying on top of you pounding into you at a furious pace with your panties pushed to the side.

The memories flooded back to him and he realised that if he just moved his hand on your waist down a little bit, and then a little bit more he would find the hem of it and could slip his hands under the fabric to rest his broad palm on the fat of your ass, give you a little squeeze. Before he had time to consider it his eyes cast a glance at your top. Fuck. That brown crochet halter top that he had seen you curled up on the couch making as you watched tv in late January. From his position he could see right over you, tits pushed together by the way the triangles tied behind your neck, could see that one little freckle he always liked to give a kiss, could see that little scar almost hidden on the right. Fuck he wanted to grab them, and kiss them, and suck on your nipples to draw that one little whine at first contact, no he wanted to watch them bounce up and down in you bra as you rode him, no! He wanted to watch them bounce up and down as he sat back on his calves thrusting into you so aggressively that your tits would bounce up and slap you in the face and make you roar out laughing, NO! he wanted to hover over your ribs as you looked up at him with that twinkle in your eyes as you held your tits together, mushing around his cock slipping back and forth in the lube he kept in his nightstand. FUCK.

He had to look away, something, something that could find his attention, yes the tag on the bottle you were holding, yeah he was gonna read that. Now is not the time to get hard you asshole, she’s only just sat in your lap, for the first time in ages! on your dick… like right on it… no, fuck, you piece of shit, she’s gonna feel if you get hard and she’s not gonna be happy about it. Well she is smiling, she seems really happy.. Yeah so don’t ruin it fucker, remember last night? Yeah exactly. He was fighting with himself as he pretended to read the beer bottle, eyes following as it moved from its place on the arm rest with your hands loosely wrapped around it, followed it up to your lips as he saw you laugh and press your lips to the rim.

Oh shit those lips he wanted to kiss so badly, wait maybe he could? That's ok right? Kissing? We still kiss? It's not like we don't kiss? Fuck it, if he wanted to kiss his wife, he was going to kiss his wife.

As you brought the bottle back down to the armrest Eddie moved on instinct, his body working faster than his brain, his hand slunk out from under your arms and up to cup your cheek, causing you to turn to him in question, eyebrows raised awaiting him to say something. He didn't say anything, he only began to pull his hand back, slowly bringing you with him. He closed his eyes, it felt like forever, forever forever forever, until suddenly soft lips on his. Everything was in slow motion as if the world stopped around him as moisturised soft plump lips met his own, barely a craze, just a touch and then more, closer, lips pressing slowly to each other and then at its destination, pressed against your lips in a kiss that made him explode inside. Suddenly your lips drew back and so did you.

It was just a peck, a simple peck, but it made his heart stop, as well as time, the world and just about everything else around him. A sigh escaped his chest in content as he opened his eyes to see you smile down at him, his own smile quickly matching yours before you drew back and looked back to Simone. His brain was swimming around in a pool in his head, everything was a daze as he watched you lick your lips and grin slightly, turning to him again to whisper “Taste like beer” that cute nose in a scrunch as you spoke to him.

The daze halted as he chuckled “You too” which earned a smile from you and moved his hand back to splay across your thighs. Finally he turned to the rest of the group and lay notice to Steve a knowing wide grin directed at you, Simone in full ramble as Luke looked up at her in awe, Jeff listening in, and Gareth with an evil smirk on his lips, staring right at him. Eddie's smile faded and was replaced with a sneer directed towards his friend. Gareth's eyes flicked to you and back to Eddie as he mouthed an ooh which made Eddie's loose grip on you tighten immediately and pull you even closer to him, this time not easing up on his hold but insistent on holding you close, as if shielding you from Gareth.

Lunch came along not soon after, thankfully not as hectic as breakfast as Dustin and Suzie had grilled a bunch of hotdogs of various diets and put them all on one table along with bread, ketchup, mustard and dried onions. Everyone free to get drinks out of the various coolers around the kitchen.

The rest of the day was very similar to the morning, everyone hustled outside once the temperatures dropped a few degrees. Both you and Eddie had kept an eye on the girls as you mingled with all the parents and friends around the beach until eventually you walked up to Eddie placing your hand gently by his elbow to tell him you were going to go further up and lie down on a blanket and read in the grass. Eddie had taken the role of watching over the kids as they swam in the lake, at first only watching from the waters edge as he spoke to Dustin and Mike until he ran out on the jetty and cannonballed right next to Roxette, hitting the bottom immediately and landing right on his ass bouncing up to be splashed back in the face by Ophelia. She screamed in laughter as he picked her up and threw her away from him.

When he came up again water dripping down his skin he rejoined Steve and Lucas, as Lucas turned to tell Max something Steve nudged him and cocked his head behind him to the grass “Your wifes asleep” he chuckled as he motioned for Eddie to see you on your stomach, face resting in your crossed arms and book falling from your loosened grasp on it. “Go, I’ll look after the kids” he grinned as Eddie turned back to him. “You sure? I don't wanna-” “Yes I’m sure, just go spend some quality time with your girl” he grinned “Doubt it’ll be much quality time seeing as shes passed out but yeah ok, thanks dude” Eddie patted him on the back as he trudged through the sand, grabbing his towel on the way and patting himself dry.

Yup you were fast asleep he noticed as he got to the blanket and heard your soft snores, he bent down and picked your book up, dog earring the page, closing it and tossing it down into the grass. He groaned softly as he crouched down, falling flat onto his back next to you. Propping his head up on one hand while the other lay limp against his stomach he stared up at the sky through his now retrieved sunglasses. His gaze broke to turn and look towards you as he heard you stir in your sleep, you twisted your hips to pull the leg facing him up in a bend, knee nudging his hip. You seemed to relax for a few seconds before you grunted and turned to fully lay on your side, hands coming to press together and hold your head up only slightly.

Once again you relaxed and Eddie watched you amused with a smile on his face until suddenly an annoyed groan left you and the hand not forced against the ground slipped out from under your head shooting out in search of something. You blindly slapped lightly at the blanket before moving and slapping again, and again until your pinky came in contact with his skin, you hand lifted and slapped lightly against Eddie's chest, he had to fight the snort that threatened to fall from his throat as he watched you.

Finally your hand seemed to find the right place on his chest but surprisingly enough you didn't relax again, instead still hazy with sleep and with your eyes closed you moved on the blanket towards him, forcing your hips forward until you were flush against him. A heavy head thudded to his chest forced an oof to spill from his lips and a thick thigh moved and dropped heavily to drape across him.

You nestled up against him and finally you seemed to relax.

Eddie was beaming, the hand previously on his stomach searching for his towel to prop it up under his head and letting him wrap his arms around you to hold you to him. Soft breathing matched up to an even rise and fall of both your chests as Eddie soaked you up. The happiness he was feeling didn't last though, soon enough he too had fallen asleep under the hot sun and your skin against his.

Both of you awoke with groans as something landed on you, a very wet, very excited Roxette. “Why are you sleeping it's swim time!” she squealed as she rolled off Eddie and sat up. You groaned in pain as you too sat up “Cuz mom and dad are tired Roxy, so please don't jump on us” you told her as you stretched, Eddie doing the same from the ground. “But mom I wanna go play!” she stood up jumping up and down “Ok ok I’m coming hang on” Eddie was about to say something when you stood up and were whisked away by his daughter.

Dinner was tapas, everybody had brought a dish or some sort of food from the store ready to eat from the get go and was set up this time by someone other than Dustin and Suzie. You talked happily to Robin, Nancy, Will and his boyfriend Winter as you all set out plates, cutlery and food for tiny hands to grab excitedly. You ate in conversation with most of the hellfire club as you sat next to Eddie on a worn leather couch, pressing up to him and letting him give you the occasional kiss to your temple or lips, smiling the whole time. Eventually your plate was finished off and Eddie felt you slump against him after putting your plate on the table. His hand wrapped around your shoulders to rest your head on his for a while until eventually you leaned up and told him you were going to lay down for a bit.

You left with a squeeze to your hand and a sympathetic smile from your husband. You were planning on just having a lie down or maybe a quick nap but suddenly your clothes were to hot and too tight and too stifling so you quickly changed out of them and threw on the same ragged t-shirt from last night, falling onto the bed, not getting too comfortable because you didn't really want to fall asleep. The universe didn't seem to hear you though and soon you were fast asleep on top of the bed.

That's how Eddie found you after putting the kids to bed an hour later, knowing they wouldn't sleep with all the excitement of the other kids around but getting them to brush their teeth and change into their pyjamas. They had asked Eddie where you were and why you weren't saying goodnight so Eddie had to explain “Moms not feeling very well so she's resting but she’ll probably come say night night later”. When you told him you were going to your room it seemed like you just needed some quiet but that was clearly not the case when he found you like a log atop the covers.

He sighed, you needed your rest, the past year of work was clearly catching up to you but yet again he couldn't help the slight disappointment when he found you, he'd gotten hopeful and excited from the day, you'd been a lot more touchy than you ever had been the past few months, cuddling up to him, stealing kisses and it seemed that whenever you were near him you had a need to have some sort of contact, whether it be pressed up against him or his arm around you or even just your hand on his arm or thigh but he had to accept that you were too tired and needed to sleep.

Carefully he pulled the covers from under you and placed them back on you as you adjusted in your sleep to lie on your side. Just like yesterday he got in next to you and wrapped his arms around you as the big spoon. Falling asleep to the scent of your hair which his nose was nuzzled against.

This morning the girls actually knocked, waking Eddie from his light slumber to hum a yes at them to come in. Slowly you roused and sat up in bed to listen to your two excited girls tell you all about the cup phones they all made yesterday after dinner and how they had them crisscrossed around the room to talk to each other as Eddie rounded the bed, giving a kiss to your forehead before leaving the room to take a shower.

You were more relaxed at breakfast now that you knew what was coming and you even enjoyed it, sat at the dining table in conversation with Argyle and his girlfriend Eden, Winter and Jonathan's wife Charlotte who got the group's attention by balancing her cereal bowl on her 8 months pregnant belly which you found out would be her and Jonathan's fourth.

Across the room Eddie sat in an armchair next to Steve and Gareth “So you and your girl seemed to be very close yesterday” Steve leaned over and dropped his voice, “Yeah pay off? She put out?” Gareth grinned “That threat of me beating you ass is still on the table” Eddie stared at Gareth who only chuckled “But to answer your question, no she was asleep by the time I got to our room” Eddie shrugged, even if Gareth could be an assshole when it came to women he didnt want it to show that he was disappointed, it would only egg him on.

“Maybe we could do that bonfire thing tonight?” Steve suggested lightly “Besides I wouldn't mind some fun with Nance, she gets so exited when shes drunk its fuckin hilarious” he grinned and looked over towards how wife “Last time she was jumping around imitating a bunny she saw on kids tv” the other two laughed at the picture.

“Sure, we’ll go into town get some drinks, I think Dustin said he only had beer” Eddie shrugged happily.

Today was not the different from yesterday, things to do inside and people down at the beach splashing away. “Hey” Eddie bent down to talk to you as you sat on the couch playing shoots and ladders with a few of the kids after lunch “so were all having a bonfire night once the kids have gone to bed” Eddie smiled wide at your happy smile “so me and some of the guys are heading into town to pick some stuff up” you nodded and gave him a kiss before he headed off with Will and Dustin.

Dinner passed and you were pleasantly surprised that tiredness hadn’t overcome you. All the parents tucked their kids into bed and made a clear point that if anything were to happen they were just outside and to come get them if they needed to.

Eddie called your name with a yo you in here? as he knocked on the bathroom door nearest your bedroom, instead of answering him you unlocked the door and peeped out an intense stare directed his way “Sorry you can't come in without a warrant” you broke out into a grin as you went to shut the door, Eddies hand grasping onto the wood and forcing it open in a fit of giggles as you tried to fight him. Finally he stumbled in, almost knocking you over and catching you in his arms.

He locked the door behind him as he looked down at you “Mmm you smell nice” he hummed as his eyes took in your bare face, damp to match you hair, you giggled “Just had a shower” you explained as you slid out of his hold to pick your clothes off the floor. Eddie was slightly miffed as you brushed past him in just your towel and unlocked the door but he followed nonetheless.

Walking behind you as you tread carefully over the floorboards, hips swaying from side to side as you walked, Eddie leaned back to get a full view of you, hair wet and dripping water over your shoulders, thighs peeking out from under the towel, only long enough to cover your ass, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the towel pulled up slightly to reveal a peak of the bottom. Within an instant his hands circled your waist and picked you up, leaning back on his feet to pull you up off the floor. You squealed at him to let you down as you giggled, only dropping you back down to land softly when he thought he might fall over backwards from bending to steep.

“What was that?” you whispered as you began walking again, Eddie awkwardly tumbling along with his arms still around you “You just looked so liftable” he whispered back biting your cheek mischievously. You snorted an ok and opened the door to your bedroom.

Today you had been in a good mood, it seemed the long night sleep and absence of pressure to be productive had taken to you and you were still on a high from it. So pleased that you didn't even let your mind work up into a frenzy as Eddie let you go and flopped onto the bed.

You didn't think anything of it as you dropped the towel to change, the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen you naked since before christmas didn't even cross your mind.

Stood with your back to him you rooted through your bag to find a comfortable pair of sweats and a hoodie, preparing for the cold outside now that the sun had gone beyond the horizon. Eddie sat up straight in an instant. Eyes bulging wide and trained on you as the towel dropped to the floor when you found your clothes. He swallowed thick as you moved to another bag to look for underwear.

Holy shit. You were naked, like fully naked, no towel, no nothing covering you. Fuck he hadn’t seen this sight in over six months and here you were bathed in the moonlight and dim lighting of the old ceiling lamp, gold cast over your body, spotlighting the smooth skin, and rolls of your back, the stretch marks and cellulite of your thighs, the dimples in your back, every little colour and inked tattoo that showed in your skin. All out for him to see, all for him.

You turned with your clothes clutched to your chest to see a pin straight Eddie with wide awestruck eyes, mouth open in shock. “What?” you chuckled confused as you walked over to the foot of the bed, dropping your clothes onto the fabric. Eddie's brain stopped working as your front was revealed to him, soft breasts sloping down in a natural drop, a sliver of metal and nipples almost out of sight, round and calling to him like two beams of light in the night, your soft stomach spilling down, a patch of hair covering your puffy mound, framed by your soft doughy thighs. Fuck he just wanted to grip and suck and lick and kiss everything he saw right now, matter of fact he wanted to get down on his hands and knees and worship the ground you walked on as well as whatever higher entity out there that had created you.

You started to grow slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, suddenly feeling extremely exposed, an urge to cover yourself growing strong. In a rush you reached for your underwear to pull the black brazilian cut lace panties over your ass and hips. You looked over at Eddie again to see his mouth open and close as he blinked, awfully resembling a fish, it only encouraged you to get dressed faster, clasping the black bra and spinning it around to pull the straps up your arms. Once again you looked at Eddie, whose expression still had not changed, you threw the t-shirt over your head and jumped into your sweats, pulling the hoodie over yourself as you looked back. “Umm” Eddie started but trailed off “I'm going to the bathroom” you blurted out and within seconds you had practically ran out of the door.

Eddie stayed still, blinking and trying to wrap his head around what he had just seen. Finally he snapped out of it and shook his head, falling over on his side with a loud groan, pulling at the sheet to cover his face. What is wrong with you?! Your wife is naked for the first time in fucking forever and you just sit there?! He groaned even louder as he smushed his face into the comforter.

Finally you came to the realisation that you had just been naked in front of Eddie for the first time in a really long time, you rushed back into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet with your face in your hands. Well clearly you weren't just ugly on the inside now, you were ugly on the outside too. Why else would he just sit there and stare at you like you'd grown a second head? UGH what were you going to do?! You had finally loosened up, you were happy within yourself for the first time in ages and felt comfortable around Eddie again, you clearly should have had more control over yourself. He no longer found you attractive, Jesus Christ why were you kidding yourself?

A knock on the door broke you out of your spiral as you weakly asked a yes, the person outside of the door cleared their throat. It was Eddie. Oh, no, no no no no no. “Um, uh you wanna go down? Uh Mike just said the fire is lit” his voice sounded strained, uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable because he’d seen you naked and didnt like it, and now you had nowhere to hide AAAARGHHHH. “Yeah sure” your voice was broken as you spoke.

Slowly slowly you stand, slowly slowly you step towards the door, and slowly slowly you turn the nob. Eyes pinned to the floor as you walk out of the door, you see Eddie's feet as you walk past them and walk down the hall, you hear him follow behind you. This is the worst feeling, so much worse than coming home late from work hungry, or being in too big of a crowd, or too tight clothes on a hot sweaty day, this unease is so much worse.

Time ticks by slowly as you feel like you're walking to your execution, feet dragging across the floor shameful as Eddie walks behind you. Anxiety, heartbreak, stress, unease, insecurity all bubble up in your chest, threatening to bubble up to the surface through hot tears if you let yourself. You feel it in your chest, plummeting down to your stomach and spreading all through your body like slim black vines as if a disease, darkening everything inside you. Until a touch, a slight intentional braze of fingers that send sparks, gold touching at your hip and overpowering some of the black. Gold vines take over throughout your hip as you feel a soft hand grasp onto it, guiding you down the stairs.

Another spark of gold bleeding out into your vines on the other as Eddie holds softly onto your hips as your feet hit the ground floor. Gold vines that threaten to overpower the black and meet in the middle just below your belly button. Your breath hitches and speeds up in anxiety.

One hand leaves your hip and the gold dies off as quickly as it came, as the first on your right hip slips to hold the small of your back, the gold follows, bleeding from its starting point and stretching as you bend down to slip into your sneakers. The hand never wavers as Eddie leans down to slip his own shoes on, the heat from it causing the gold to continue without the order of touch, spreading slowly through your back, creeping up your spine in a shiver.

He opens the door to near 20 people scattered around a brazen fire, reds and oranges contrasting the deep dark blues of the sky and the shade its cast around them all. You step cautiously down the now dark green stairs, feet hitting the gravel before they hit grass as you veer off to the side away from the parking lot. “Hey” Eddie whispered beside you as you walk, coming to a stop as you turn to look up at him. Eyes glassy and scared at what his words might do to you. Just as he opens his mouth “Hey!” Robin runs over and pulls you off by the arm so she can show you something.

Eddie stands frozen, What just happened? he was about to apologise to you for being so weird. His feet drive him forward however and before he can think it over he’s by the mass of people, eyes zoning in on the table of drinks set up he makes a beeline for it. Pouring a shot of tequila he downs it, and then a second, before he can get ahead of himself he picks up a beer can, popping the tab he scans the crowd. His eyes find Steve not far away and quickly he's marching over “I need to talk to you” he says with a grip on the man's arm almost pulling him away from the scene.

A few metres away from the nearest cluster of figures he stops “Dude what's up?” Steve chuckles, confused “I just saw her naked” is all Eddie can say, Steve's confusion just deepens on his face “For the first time in over like six months” he widens his eyes willing Steve to understand. “Oh, oooh how’d it go?” Steve grins. “Fucking terrible!” Eddie shouts exasperated, quickly straightening up with eyes wide turning to see if someone heard. Everyones too fixated on their own conversation as he looks over at the people around the campfire but he finds you at the drinks table with Robin and Nancy cheering you on as you seem to be taking three shots in a row.

He turns back to Steve “How was it terrible?” Stevs confused again as he stares up at the taller man “Because Steve, she took her towel off and I just sat there” Steves face shows once again that he doesn’t understand “I just sat there, gawking at her like I’d never seen tits before, like some fuckin’ teenager” he grits. “Oh. Wait so walk me through it” he took a swig of his own can, some fruity cider. “Ok. So she was in the room, well actually, no, here” Steve frowns at Eddie's backtracking “So she was in the bathroom so I knocked on it and she stuck her head out grinning saying I needed a restraining order” Steve smirked but chose not to make a comment “And so she liked tried to close the door and I tried to open it and get in. Ah before you say anything it was just like flirty fun, nothing weird” Steve nodded “And she was all giggly, then we left the bathroom and I like picked her up and she was all giggly then too” “Ok ok” Steve nodded along “Then when we got to the room I just sat on the bed and she just like dropped the towel while she was looking for her clothes, then she turned and I think she said something I can't remember, but then she started like pulling all her clothes on, said she was going to the bathroom and ran off” he finished his recounting of the recent events with a few large gulps of his beer, almost downing half of it.

“Sounds like you freaked her out dude. Did you like explain why you were being so weird?” Steve tipped his head back to finish the rest of his cider. “Well I was gonna but then Robin just came up and ran off with her” both of them looked over to see you now stood with Robin, Nancy, Max and El a large glass of wine in your hand.

“Just go up and talk to her now, explain” Eddie screwed his face up at the thought of pulling you away to awkwardly explain why he just sat there “Listen, Nancy gets insecure about her body sometimes maybe she is too” Steve shrugged as they looked back to each other “She's like never ever insecure though, and I don't even think its hiding, she likes her body ya know” the rest of Eddies beer was slung down his throat. “Yeah but you might have made her insecure dude” “Ugh don't say that!” Eddie groaned, his beer was gone he needed something to fiddle with, to distract him, patting his pockets he found his packet of cigarettes, ones he usually kept out of view so the kids wouldn't see him smoking. He flicked his zippo and took a long breath once the cigarette was lit.

“I’m serious dude, it's not just the first time you've seen her naked it's the first time she's been naked in front of you, might be kinda scary”

“Since when do you know all about women?”

“Wel-”

“Don't start” Eddie held his finger up to silence him.

“Just go talk to her ok?”

“Fine, but I’m gonna finish this up first, think you can go get me a beer? Don't really wanna look like im ignoring her”

“Sure” Steve walked off as Eddie turned his back to the fire to crane his neck back in frustration, looking up at the sky.

“Steve used to be like that with me” Nancy giggled in the huddle as Steve walked up to grab a beer and another cider. “I used to be like what?” he grinned as he leaned over the table “Butt out dingus” Robin stuck her tongue out “Nothing babe” Nancy hid a grin behind her solo cup as she looked away. Steve narrowed his eyes in suspicion at his wife “It's just girltalk” you smiled at him which made Steve's face break out into an expression you couldn't read.

“Alright well” Steve spun on his heel and power walked back to Eddie “You better talk to her now, I’m pretty sure I overheard the girls talking about it” Steve rushed as he forced the cold can into Eddie's hands. “Oh for fucks sake” he groaned as he took the beer and began walking over to the table. He saw as Robin awkwardly hushed the group as she laid eyes on him which made his nerves bubble up, yeah they were definitely talking about it.

“Drink all that beer that fast?” Robin chuckled as Eddie neared “Mmhmn no” Eddie held his unopened can up for show as he arrived behind you “Can I talk to you?” he bend down as he dropped his voice lower, breath fanning over your ear as he spoke. “Ok” you whispered back meekly. He had no idea about girl code, and had absolutely no clue what the looks all the others were giving you meant as you set your plastic wine glass on the table and turned to walk away from them.

You walked silently side by side as he nonverbally steered you towards the cars, the three shots and half glass of wine causing for a pleasant buzz, dampening some of the anxiety you felt “Um you want a beer?” he asked quietly as he held out the can towards you when you came to a stop by your own car “No thanks” you mumbled as Eddie seemed to cage you in at the hood of the car. You frowned surprised when he flung the can behind him to softly roll into the grass, he needed his hands free for this and he hadn't had a chance to drink it before he came over.

“So what you wanna talk about?” you fiddled with the string of the cuffs of your worn out hoodie which was actually Eddies as you leaned back to prop yourself slightly on the hood of the car. “Um I just wanted to uh tell you I'm sorry for just like sitting there super awkward before” he looked down at you as you stared into his stomach unwilling to meet his gaze. “If I’m being honest I was just like shocked, we haven't really uh done.. that, in like a long time and it was just sudden” he saw you physically curl in on yourself which made him freak out “No no not like bad sudden, good sudden” you finally met his gaze, looking up at him confused “Fuck, I just mean like I’ve missed you and my brain just like short circuited” he tried to get you to understand.

A breath he didnt know he had been holding finally escaped his lips as he saw a small smile tug on your lips “I dont wanna make you like uncomfortable, but when I saw you I was just like, holy fuck, she’s naked and I think this is the best thing I’ve ever seen” the grin that spread on his face was a relieved one as you snorted a laugh “Im serious, like baby” his hands came to rest on your shoulder “You are so fuckin’ sexy and just every part of you is like some greek goddess has sculpted you or something. I’m totally ok with us not being intimate, even though I do miss you I just want you to feel safe and comfortable, and for you to be happy but I really do miss you. Obviously I miss you like as a person, you're my wife, and the mother of my children and I love you so much, but like above that fuuuuuck I miss being with you” he groaned as he thought about how long it had been.

Something swelled within you at his words, you wanted to laugh at his phrasing of being sculpted by a greek goddess but the meaning behind the words were just too flustering and sincere. And following up with that stupid wording he knew made you weak in the knees, mother of my children, yeah you liked that. You were the mother of his children, his wife.

“I’m sorry” you whispered as Eddies hands travelled down to rub up and down your arms “It’s just been a lot recently, in my head and work and all and I pushed you away I’m sorry” Eddie manoeuvred his knee to push yours apart so he could stand between them and be closer to you “Don’t say sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for. We’ve both just been shit at telling each other things” as he towered over you you craned your neck back to see him properly, a grin spread across your face as you said in a whiny voice “Communication is key”.

Eddie laughed and brought his arms to wrap around your shoulders, pressing your face into his chest as he hugged you, kissing the top of your head as your own arms wrapped around his waist. You both lingered for a while as you hugged each other tight until Eddies arms loosed and he pulled back to look down at you again “While I do want to know what's been going through your pretty little head lately, why don't we go enjoy the fire and talk more when we get back?” you nodded with a smile. Eddie turned to walk back with you but spun around as you called his name. “One more thing” “Mm?” you grasped onto the fabric of his sweatshirt and pulled him down towards you.

Lips meeting his in a desperate hungry kiss you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck as his hands went to your hips, holding you softly to keep himself upright. He thought you were just going in for a long kiss when you broke off but soon enough your lips were back on him again as your fingers snaked through his locks. Another kiss and a tug at his hair had him groaning into your mouth as his hands squeezed tighter at your hips. A few more kisses and he felt your tongue poke softly at his lips telling him to open them. He pulled you flush against him as tongues swiped at each other, his hands moving from your hips past your back to grab angrily at you ass, pulling you up to stand and pushing your hips against his, forcing his hard cock against your mound, groaning at the contact and pressing even harder against you.

You pulled away from his lips and quickly out of his grasp “Ok now I’m happy” you laced your fingers with his as he stood dumbstruck, you began walking pulling him along with you “What??” his voice was slightly loud as he stumbled along after you “What? I said one more thing, that was my thing” you turned to grin at him wickedly “Oh you little-” he let go of you to run after you and lift you up off your feet as you squealed. The second he let you down you ran off with Eddie hot on your tail, tackling you almost immediately and turning you in his hold to face him so he could attack your hips with wiggling fingers, laughing as you shrieked from the tickling.

He ceased his attack on your sides as you stepped closer to the group, wrapping his arms around you once again and stepping up behind you to join the group around the drinks table. Steve gave him a knowing smirk as you bent over still attached to Eddie to retrieve a beer for him from the cooler on the ground and your wine, you giggled as he shoved the hand hold the ice cool beer under your hoodie to press against your warm stomach, fighting to move his hands away from you. “OOH smores! Come on!” Robin beckoned the group to sit in the half circle of logs around the fire, all squeezing together to fit as Robin planted herself on the ground to fish marshmallows out of ita bag.

“May I interest you in a shot of everclear mi ladies?” Gareth grinned as he stumbled over to you, Eddie, Nancy and Steve on one of the longs “Nah nah” Eddie waved the hand not wrapped around you in dismissal, “We got kids you dummy, gotta get up in the morning” Steve rolled his eyes at him. “More for me!” Gareth swiped all four each one after the other “I am NOT on duty to take care of this one!” Eddie held a hand up in the air as Gareth finished his last one. “Whaaaat? You don't wanna be my daddy?!” Gareth whined as he toppled over onto Eddie, Eddie’s hand coming to push him off, pressing hard against his stomach while everyone else laughed.

“Go sit down you drunk” Eddie motioned for Gareth to sit down next to Steve. “Oh hey Rob’s can you get me a vodka coke?” You smiled as the woman in question pushed herself off the ground, she gave you a thumbs up as Eddie leaned in “Vodka? How much have you drank already?” His breath fanned once again against you ear as he spoke to you in a low murmur “Eh its fine, I’m not planning on getting drunk” you waved him off “Mhm” Eddie hummed sarcastically as you grinned up at him.

“Jesus Robin how much did you put in here” your face scrunched up as you took a sip, you didn't particularly mind the taste of alcohol but you hadn't expected it to taste so incredibly strong “Like 80% vodka 20% coke” she grinned a dopey mischievous grin as she found her seat again “Chug it ya wont taste it” her grin widened even more “Come on chug chug chug!” she clapped her hands together as a few of the girls chimed in “You don't have to” Eddie searched your face with serious eyes “No no it's fine” your grin matched Robins as you looked up at him before swallowing the whole of the contents in the red solo cup. You cheered along excitedly as you crushed it and threw it down onto the ground.

Eddie felt you sway slightly as you sat up straight, well it seemed like the getting tipsy had gone a little too well, no doubt by the end of the evening you would be hammered and pass out again on the bed. It's fine he told himself, we’ll just do something.. another day. “Yo lets go get the chairs it's getting kinda cramped over here” Dustin walked over with Lucas and Mike on his tail “Oh sure. You gonna be ok?” he bent down to ask you as you stared up at the sky in a daze. “Huh? Oh yeah yeah” yup you were definitely drunk as you tried to focus your eyes on his face, he had a slight suspicion Robin hadnt put one single brand of vodka in your cup before handing it to you. “Nance could you..” he trailed off as he motioned to you, asking her to keep an eye on you, she nodded happily as he stood up, hands hovering around you to make sure you didn't fall over.

When he saw you could sit by yourself he grabbed into his sweatshirt by the collar and pulled it over his head, the fire was getting too warm for him, dropping it down next to you to occupy his place he got up and followed the others down to the edge of the beach.

“Oh!” you squealed as you planted a hand on his hoodie to feel the square cardboard box, digging through his pocket in mass concentration you managed to free the cigarettes and flipped open the top to see his zippo and a few cigarettes. Pulling the zippo and a cigarette out you turned to face Nancy, Tracy and Simone again as you lit the cigarette. Happily taking the next red solocup handed your way by Tracy. Taking a long breath and giggling as the nicotine swam up to your head, mind feeling floaty as you swayed from side to side, even more so as you sipped what seemed to be more vodka coke, this time not as strong.

“Aw man who let you-” Eddie cut himself off as returned a few minutes later, plucking the zippo and carton out of your hands after placing a chair down in the half circle of logs. You cackled as you watched him shove the packet out of view, this time into his jeans “Baby you know how you get when you smoke drunk” he grabbed into your free hand helping you stand up as you sucked down your second cigarette, almost empty solo cup left behind on the log. He led you back to the chairs to see one empty chair left “Really dude?” Gareth grinned as he spread out into the chair next to the empty one, revelling in Eddie's annoyance “Fine” Eddie breathed “Wait here” he told you as he turned to get his sweatshirt.

Gareth mumbled something to you as you swayed, trying not to fall over “What?” you almost shouted as you leaned forward, placing your hands on the armrest of Gareth's chair and dropping your head down to hear him. He said something again but your mind was too fuzzy to understand as you brought the cigarette back up to your lips. “Gareth stop flirting with my wife” you heard Eddie grit behind you as his hands slithered around your hips to bring you down with him as he sat down in the chair. “Whoo!” you squealed as you fell into Eddie's lap, flinging your hands into the air as if you were on an amusement park ride.

When you’d brought them back down you took another drag of the cigarette, closing your eyes as you exhaled, falling backwards onto Eddie's shoulder as your head began to spin back and back with the kick.

Eddie chuckled as he plucked the tobacco from your fingers and began talking to Will and Winter, he knew this was going to happen, everytime you drank and smoked your head began to spin, same with weed and smoking, if he wasn't careful enough you would fall flat on your ass with the dizziness. Suddenly you shot up, leaning forward “Oh Ophi loves that magazine!” you must have picked up on Winter talking about some fashion magazine Eddie hadn't heard of before. Soon you were in a deep conversation about the fashion industry and how hiphop had had an effect on it but within seconds Eddie zoned out.

You kept swaying back and forth, body vibrating with laughter as you flung yourself from side to side varying between leaning over to listen intently as catching up with your brain to form words. You were clearly quite out of it, wrapped up in your conversation and thinking nothing of it but Eddie did. The first few times you moved he didn't pay it any mind, but soon you were almost squirming above him, no longer just swaying but moving your ass, soon enough you were situated right on his crotch.

Eddie tried to pay attention to what Will was telling him, he really did but you just kept moving around, pressing even harder against him as you relaxed and dropped your weight down. The friction was just too much. Can she feel this? Does she even know she's moving so much? No she can’t feel I’m hard she’s too drunk. Fuck please don’t realize, shit. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, subtly trying to press you up against him more. What are you doing there’s people around! Fuuuuuck, you moved a little just as he pulled you flush to his chest and now he was situated right between your cheeks, pressure coming from all sides. He snapped his head when he heard you hum, could you actually feel him? Were you doing this on purpose?

Suddenly you turned your head and before he even had a chance to think about it your lips were on his in a hard kiss. As you broke apart he pulled away to frantically look around, Will and Winter were no longer next to you, he noticed them at the drinks table, now talking to Suzie, everyone else were in conversation all in their own worlds, drinking or making smores. Gareth had passed out next to him, Steve listened with a grin as Nancy talked excitedly, Jonathan and Charlotte were whispering to each other, matching smiles as their noses pressed to each others.

He found your eyes again, looking down at him with a drunken smile, eyes darting down to his lips with your pupils blown wide as glossed over, he gulped. That was a sight he hadn't seen in a long time, the want, need, in your eyes as you looked at him. You leant down again, capturing him in a sloppy kiss, he groaned into your mouth as you wriggled in his lap, turning to face him better. Hands coming up to wrap your arms around his shoulder as you sat twisted to face him. Lips smacking against each other desperately, hands planting firmly on your hips and squeezing, trying to twist you, and pull your chest to his.

Finally you broke apart with a heavy breath, Eddie's closed eyes opened slowly to admire your face with a smile. Before he had the chance though, you were sliding off him and getting to your feet with a grin, Eddie groaned and toppled over, hands coming to his crotch as his forehead almost nudged his knee. It had been a natural reaction, to cover his boner, now that he had he realised hiding it just made his problem all the more noticeable. He gave Steve the finger as he cackled at him just as you skipped off saying something about getting a drink.

Clearing his throat he had no other option but to follow his drunken wife, he reached for his sweatshirt that had been hung on the armrest and pulled it over him, making an effort to pull it down low in the front. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of the chair, his slow steps turning into large strides as he saw what you were doing. Within a second he was next to you pulling the bottle of everclear out of your hands “Hey!” you whined as you set your solo cup down. “Babe this is 95% alcohol, and I am not having you throw up all over me tonight” he set the bottle down and gathered you in a hug.

“Mean, you dont wanna take care of me? I see how it is” you joked as you made a show of untangling yourself from him, only making Eddie hold onto you tighter. “Of course I wanna take care of you” I’ll show you how fucking good I can take care of you “But I’d rather have you not throw up if I can” you made a mocking whine which caused a chuckle bubble up from Eddies chest.

“Let's get you some juice or something yeah?” he grinned down at you as you nodded “Jesus christ all these drinks and not a single thing alcohol free” he frowned as he inspected the table, all the mixers now gone. “There's some cartons inside” Dustin chipped in “Thanks dude”.

So Eddie was turning you in his arms to hold at your hips as he led you steadily up to the house, laughing as you stumbled and almost tripped over your own feet, slowly he led you up the steps and through the door. “Okay” he breathed as he walked you to the kitchen island, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to sit on the wood “Oh my god!” you squealed as he lifted you “I forgot you could do that! Do it again!” you squealed. Eddie shushed you quietly “I will if you keep your voice down a little, the kids are asleep downstairs” he pecked your lips as he turned to open the fridge “Oh riiiight” you leaned towards his back with an exaggerated whisper.

Just as Eddie turned he saw you about to fall over the edge, shooting a hand out to catch your arm, placing the juice on the table and coming around to hold onto both your arms and coax you upright. “Ok my little fall risk whose like a newborn baby that can't support its head” you snorted loudly as Eddie grabbed the juicebox next to you and poked the straw through the seal. Legs pressing up against the table to stand between your thighs, keeping you sitting up “Here, drink this” he held out the juicebox to you, which you took and drank all within one breath, slurping noises within the carton as you finished it.

Wiping your mouth you looked back up to him with a wide grin, collapsing into his chest and mushing your cheek to the green fabric. Eddie chuckled as his hands came to circle your back “I think it's time for you to go to bed yeah?” he whispered as you pushed yourself closer to him humming in agreement “But you have to carry me” Eddie laughed. He hadn’t carried you for a while, but he’d like to think he was still strong enough, lean muscles hidden under all his clothes from hard work at the auto shop. The only thing was that you were very drunk and he was afraid he’d drop you. “Ok” he whispered, marvelling in your giggle as he bent his knees and wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

“What? You told me to carry you” he drummed on your ass as he began walking past the dining table earning a drunken laugh from you.

Somehow he managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, throwing you playfully onto the bed, just as he was about to pull away from you to stand up two hands fisted at his sweatshirt, pulling him onto the bed sloppily as your lips connected to his. As you continued kissing him he moved, never disconnecting his lips from yours as he lay himself between your thighs.

His brain stopped as he heard your soft moan against him as he pushed himself flush against your clothed cunt. He needed to hear that sound again. He thrusted his hips hard against yours to hear your moan again this time slightly louder, quick to muffle it by kissing you harder. One of his hands on your hips travelled quickly under your hoodie to first at your breast over your bra. FUUUUUCKKK he hadn’t gotten to feel your tits in so long and now that he did it felt like fucking heaven.

Grabbing onto you desperately as he set a pace of thrusting his hard cock against you, sloppily swiping his tongue against yours. Soft groans and moans from both of you muffled by each other as you made out. Eddie couldn't begin to explain how good this felt, kissing you, touching you, it was too much for him. His pace quickened against you as you pulled at his hair, other hand pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt. Getting the hint he sat up on his calves to rip his shirts off, cock throbbing with eagerness as your hands travelled lightly over his happy trail, past his stomach and up his chest, hand grabbing at his neck pulling him back to you.

His lips connected to yours again as he cupped your face and let your hand trail up his side and grip at his shoulder. He pulled away to breathe, staring down at your face, eyes blown wide and filled with lust, kiss bitten lips, hips squirming for friction against him. You were drunk, he knew he shouldn't be doing this when you were drunk but he couldn't help himself, he hadn't felt you in ages and now that he’d gotten a taste he couldn't stop himself.

Sitting up again he pulled at your hoodie, urging you to sit up so he could pull it off you, nimble fingers eagerly unclipping your bra before pushing you back against the bed. Breath cut short as his nose pushed against your cheek and his lips connected to yours. His hips gave a particularly hard thrust as his hand went back to squeezing at your now naked breast, barbell piercing pinched between his fingers as his other hand propped him up, causing you to moan against him as the zipper of his jeans caught against your clit, igniting a fire within your core you hadn't felt for a while.

Your moan egged him on to thrust even harder as his lips relentlessly kissed yours. He heard a knock at the door but chose to ignore it, he had you here, in your bed for the week, topless, kissing him, moaning for him, wanting him, there was nothing he would do to stop this moment. The knock came again and he pulled away yelling an angry “WHAT?!” into the room. Aggravated and annoyed that there was something outside of this room, the world that had stopped around him, that needed him more than you did right now, more than he needed you.

It showed on his face, the annoyance which dropped immediately as well as his heart as he heard the low scared whisper “Daddy?” his forehead dropped to yours as he closed his eyes, breathing out a sigh “Yeah?” he called without moving from his comfortable position against you. “Um.. I peed” the voice whispered shamefully, Roxette on the other side of the door, no doubt clutching her teddy bear close to her as she called for her dad.

Eddie sighed against you as you let out a low giggle, the whole situation was kind of funny. Eddie straining against his jeans and boxers, frustrated and only thinking of you naked below him and his daughter interrupting to tell him she peed herself.

“Coming!” he moved slightly above you, staring down in to your eyes as he whispered “Don't go anywhere I’ll be right back” a hard kiss to your lips as he scrambled off you, making no effort to cover his bare chest as he walked to the door, opening it and slipping out you heard Roxy on the other side of the door ask curiously “Where’s mom?” “Uh she’s sleeping”. Boner gone, and everything else that surrounded you, gone for the moment as he took his daughter into the bathroom, placing her in the shower as he ran to retrieve a fresh change of clothes and bedding in your room, groaning as he saw you now on the bed in only a pair of panties. Rushing as fast as he could to change the sheets, his daughter and then soak them all off and hang them up outside to dry.

The five minutes he thought it would take stretched to a near half hour as he was caught up having to explain to multiple people why he was hanging bedding up and then staying with Roxette as she begged him to stay till she drifted off.

Finally he made it back to your room, taking a heavy breath in preparation before opening the door, heart dropping as he found you naked atop the covers, on your side, and fast asleep.

He loved his daughters but could they be more of a cockblock?! He went through the same motions as yesterday, tucking you in and shuffling in next to you to wrap his arms around you. He had to remind himself that there were five days left of this trip, plenty of opportunities to get you alone.

You woke up confused, head throbbing and.. naked? Why were you naked? You frowned as you tried to remember last night: Getting dressed and feeling insecure, shots, talking to Eddie about it, more drinking, something in the kitchen and oh right you and Eddie made out shirtless but you couldn't remember anything else. “Hey Eddie” you nudged the man behind you who groaned “Eds” your shook him slightly “What?” he grumbled behind you “Did we have sex last night?” you turned in his arms to face him as he opened his eyes “We were about to but Roxette peed herself” he murmured, there was a hint of annoyance and frustration in his voice as he recounted last nights events before nuzzling into your shoulder and pulling you tighter against him. “Oh” you breathed as you hand found his back, “Total cockblock” he mumbled against your skin drawing a snort from your throat.

So you were about to have sex with Eddie last night, for the first time in over six months. You found as you thought about it that you weren’t totally against that idea, it felt strange thinking about it, for so long you’d set up walls to block him out and now you felt like you didn't want them there anymore. They were in your way.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts “Just a minute baby!” you called as you scrambled to get away from Eddie, turning to look down at the floor, Eddie's Metallica t-shirt that lay inside his sweatshirt was the closest, you hastily pulled it to you, throwing it over your head as you sat up against the headboard. “Yeah come in!” you called to the door as you felt Eddie's hand fall limp on your thigh.

Ophelia and Roxette shuffled through the door, Ophelia going straight for her clothes and Roxette climbed onto the bed, laying her head in your lap and onto Eddie's hand. “Dad moooove” she shoved at his hand as he grunted in his sleep, flicking his hand in an attempt to move her head away “Daaad” she whined as she pushed at his hand, his hand slid down to hold your knee instead.

“I heard you had a little accident, you ok baby?” you stroked her hair as she settled back in your lap “Mm peed myself” she pouted “But no one saw so I think its ok” she told you. “And your dad cleaned you up you ungrateful” Eddie mumbled the rest of his sentence into the pillow as he rolled onto his stomach. “Oh, yeah dad helped”

Soon enough everyone was dressed and downstairs, “So!” Dustin clapped his hands together, gaining the attention of the room “Today is waterpark day!” he referred to the plan he had already set in place. Kids excitedly shovelling food into their mouths after the walkthrough of the day before running to their parents rooms to get dressed and ready.

Roxy was very excited about her new swimsuit, a blue flowery two piece with a blouse resembling top, but huffed when Eddie told her to come over so he could put sunscreen on her before they went out because she’d want to jump in the water as soon as they got to the waterpark.

Bags were packed, cars were started and everyone changed as 10 cars and two minivans rolled out onto the road. Setting up camp in a cluster of beach chairs under parasols plans were made. All the kids were very excited, making it quite difficult to get them all gathered and keep them from running off. “Mom I don’t wanna wear the floaters!” Roxette whined as you blew the arm puffs up for her. “Baby you have to” popping the cap closed you started with the other “But Ophelia doesn’t have hers!” She stomped on the ground “Yeah but Ophelia's older she knows how to swim” you explained as you coaxed her over to stand between you knees “I can swim too! No! I don’t wanna!” She ripped her arm away from you as you held it “Baby look a bunch of the other ones are wearing them” you pointed over at the other parents putting arm puffs on their own kids, Eddie stood nearby lathering sunscreen on your eldest. “Fine!” She whined as she let you pull one up her forearm “Be good and you’ll get an ice cream later” you grinned as her face broke out into a toothy smile “Ok!” She happily accepted her fate and let you put the other arm puff on her.

Argyle and Eden excitedly signed up for chaperoning the kids as well as Robin and a cautious Vickie, Lukas, Mike, Dustin and Suzie joining in as they set off with the kids for a waterslide, Steve and Eddie telling them they would catch up with them.

You, Nancy, Simone, Tracy, her daughter Ariana, El, Max and Charlotte all huddled together on the beach chairs, lounging as you looked over the waterpark. Will and Winter walked off to get some fancy waterpark drinks that caught their eye as Eddie, Steve, Luke, Gareth and Jeff looked over the map of the waterpark.

“Oh what a beautiful day!” Nancy smiled brightly as she sat down with baby Dustin in her lap, Simone undid her beach wrap and sat down in a cheeky black bathing suit with straps lining up to her hips, halter top neckline with an open back. “Oh it is hot!” she commented as a few of the other girls cheered at her. “We really doing bathing suits?” Charlotte asked cautiously “Oh come on girls we don't know these people who cares?” Simone smiled brightly as she took her sunglasses off and dropped them onto her wrap on the ground, “Yeah you're right who cares? I've been working on this six pack all spring!” Charlotte pulled her cover up off, thrusting her pregnant belly for show under her punch pink pregnancy dress bathing suit “Yeah baby got front!” she laughed as the girls cheered her on, “Come on Y/N its your turn to strip!” she grinned as she sat back down “Oh no I don't know” you shyed away.

The swimsuit you were wearing today was not one you were extremely comfortable in, it had been a gift from your friend and you brought it with you just in case, but your bikini had been haphazardly shoved into a ball in your room out of sight and out of mind and therefore not washed deeming it unwearable as it began to smell. This one was a blood red one piece instead, the hem was high on your hips and practically a thong at the back, low cut in the back and round cups pushing your tits together above an upside down triangle showcasing some skin and the undersides of your boobs. “Oh come on! Like Simone said no one cares!” Nancy grinned as she clapped, the others joining in and clapping along. “Oh ok!” they cheered as you stood up and made a show of dropping your towel and filing it onto your chair, even going as far as a little spin.

Not far away Gareth whistled, causing the group of guys bent over the map to look up, Eddie with his back to you asked “What?” following Gareth's eyes, turning around to see you throwing your towel away and spinning around. He swallowed. Have I seen that before? I don't think so, is it new? his eyes scanned your body, cheeky thong tucked between your ass cheeks, tits pushed together round. “You sure you still set on this marriage thing? Cuz if not I’ll happily take her off your hands. Get her on her knees for me.” Eddie turned back around to see Gareth grinning.

“Alright that's enough” Eddie lunged “No!” Gareth screeched as he ducked and took off towards you all, scuttling between plastic lounge chairs to stand behind yours which you now occupied. Eddie stopped by your feet as Gareth hopped from side to side “What’s going on?” you asked confused, other girls chiming in as Eddie matched Gareth's movements “If you say one more word I will personally see to it that you're six feet under by the end of the day” Eddie gritted through his teeth. “Eddie!” you shouted, shocked at his words.

Gareth suddenly became bold “Nah you're too much of a softy” he grinned as he stilled and leaned over the back of your chair, making a show of peeping down you to look at your tits “HEY! Stop looking at my wife!�� he shouted, making you turn in confusion to look up at Gareth who quickly disappeared out of view as he ran again. Eddie followed him shouting “You wanna see how much of a softy I am?!” and just like that both of them were out of sight.

You turned back to the rest “What was that?” they all shrugged telling you how they had no clue, you sighed and stood up walking over to Steve. “Can you tell me what's going on?” you crossed your arms, sweet Steve looking you directly into the eye as he awkwardly murmured “Uh Gareth said some things that upset Eddie so” he shrugged “What did he say?” you frowned “Uh you don't wanna know” Steve brought a hand up to rub at his stubble. Rolling your eyes you walked off in search of Eddie, who was now running through a children's pool.

“Eddie!” you shouted sternly causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to you “Come here” you stated frustrated. Eddie turned to Gareth who also stood frozen, back to you, to Gareth and finally back to you. He sighed and trudged towards you.

“What the hell is going on?” you crossed your arms again, watching as Gareth faking nonchalance walked off behind him. “Gareth uh was just annoying me” he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck “So you chase him?” you inquired “Well yeah” Eddie turned to give Gareth an angry glare as he neared the group again. He set his gaze back onto you, your facial expression telling him that that wasn't an answer and urging him to explain “Ugh, he, he just kept saying some things, and I told him to stop and he still didn't” he set his hands onto your hips as he looked down on you.

“What stuff?” you asked exasperated, Eddie opened his mouth “And don’t tell me I don’t want to know” you held a finger up to him, his mouth closed again, you could see his brain working to think of something to say “Just, well some things about your body” your face softened into scared hurt, Eddie understood instantly that you though Gareth had been making fun of you, your size, but he didnt know how to explain “Fuck sake, he kept saying how he was gonna” he closed his eyes annoyed “Fuck you and shit” he breathed.

The snort that left your throat caused him to open them again “Baby, just because he says that doesn't mean it's gonna happen” you placed a soft hand on his cheek. Immediately his mind brought up Greg, stupid fucking Greg who had him doubting himself. -doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen. He softened against your touch, nothing was going to happen, not with Greg, not with Gareth, not with anybody. “I know” he sighed, more of an admittance to himself “I just don't like him talking to you about that” he continued as he stepped closer to you, leaning further into your touch “Yeah well he's a pig, but it's just harmless stupid jokes baby” you leant up on your toes to give him a kiss.

“I’m only for you remember” you held your hand up to him, wiggling your fingers up to show off your engagement ring and wedding band.

Eddie hummed, why was he ever worried? You were his, you were married to him, had his babies, you’d been with him since you were 16 and him 17 for god's sake. Maybe it was the time spent together that had him worrying you had gotten bored of him, but no, it was the time together that only made the two of you stronger. You’d always been attached at the hip, stuck to each other like glue since his first senior year. Yeah you had your rough patches but you always found your way back to each other in the end.

Taking your hand and placing a kiss to the back of it before kissing your lips. “Now come on, you can buy me a gelato cuz it's too damn hot out here” you grinned as you took his hand. “Mm know something that's hotter” he snapped the elastic at your hip against your skin as he captured your lips in a kiss again.

Rejoining the group you stood with Eddie behind you, whose hands wrapped around your waist as his chin dropped to your shoulder. “Gareth, you're disgusting” you sneered “Anybody want ice cream?” you grinned to the rest, Eddie snorted behind you as the rest laughed. Soon enough you were back in your lounge chair leaning onto Eddie's chest as you sat between his thighs, happily eating your gelato while talking to Tracy, Ariana and Max.

You had so much fun going on slides with Eddie and the kids, throwing Roxette around in the water, your two girls fighting to get the other off each parents shoulders, slurping on ice cream, chatting with everyone and it wasn't as hard as you'd all though getting each kid into their respective car and away from the fun, all exhausted from the day and ready to go home. Dinner had been munching on whatever snacks there were around the house as kids were put to bed by nightfall.

“Damn forgot to brush my teeth” Eddie sighed as he walked into the bedroom with a towel low on his hips, tattoos on display under the same gold light Eddie had seen you in. “Ok well I’m dying for a shower so you're gonna have to do that while I’m in there” you told him as you brushed past him in a throw over beach dress, bathing suit still on. You didn't see Eddie grin behind your back as you clutched your toiletry bag on your way down the hall, quickly snapping up his things before following you.

“Oh I don't mind” he breathed as he caught up to you, you turned, rolling your eyes at him playfully as you pushed open the door, locking it after letting Eddie through, “Think I can join you?” he grinned down at you as the hand not clutching his toothbrush and toothpaste came to rest on your hip “Pretty sure you just showered baby” you smiled as you pulled away from him, pulling your dress over your head as Eddie flung his things into the sink. “Mm can’t be too clean sweetheart” he smirked as he crowded you from behind. “I’ll let you join me if you just think about this first” you turned around “You really wanna have sex for the first time in a shower in a home that's not even ours?” you began pulling the straps of your bathing suit down.

Eddie looked off into the distance thinking it over “No you're right” he sighed “Wait wait wait, you're saying we're gonna have sex?” His eyes found you eagerly as you stripped of your bathing suit and stepped into the shower, looking back with a cheeky smirk. Eddie groaned and fell back against the sink as you turned the water off. Fuck… YES! It was happening! It was really fucking happening!

You pulled the shower curtain closed, putting you out of view as Eddie turned and began brushing his teeth. He sat down on the toilet lid waiting for you to finish and it felt like the time droned on forever, even though it was just 10 minutes. His head perked up excitedly as you stepped out, reaching for your folded towel on the counter and wrapping yourself up in it. “Ugh fuck you’re so sexy” Eddie breathed against your ear as he wrapped around you from behind, you giggled as you picked up your stuff and unlocked the door. Walking slowly down the hall Eddie pressed his painfully hard cock against you, the evidence of the daydreaming he had been doing while you were in the shower.

“Can't wait to get my hands on you” he whispered as you made your way down the hall. Eddie wasted absolutely no time as you got to your room, pulling the towel off you and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes roaming the various ink splatters littered over your body, shining oh so beautifully in the dim light of the room, soaking in every inch of your undeniably perfect body. “Funny I’m usually the loud one but I have a sneaking suspicion you might beat me to it this time” you grinned as you let his towel fall to the floor. “Oh do you now?” his hands went down to grab a handful of your ass “Mhm you're gonna have to be quiet” you whispered as he captured your lips in a kiss.

Blindly he led you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the mattress, falling onto it, instinctively spreading your legs to make room for Eddie. “Fuck” he made an audible groan as his hard cock came in contact with you slick wet folds, pressing into you. “Ugh fuck I’m not gonna last long baby” he breathed as he broke apart from you “Would be surprised if you did” you panted as Eddies lips began kissing down your jaw and throat, lingering on occasion to suck harsh bruises into your skin, more than on occasion, he seemed to be doing it with every kiss.

You let out a breathless moan as his lips wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking lightly as his hand came up to give similar attention to the other. Two metal balls cold on his muscle as he licked at your pierced nips. He didn’t hover there long though, he continued his descent kissing down your body till he slid to his knees on the floor, hands wrapping strong around your hips to pull you to the edge as he kissed your things.

“Ughhhh fuck I’ve missed this” he groaned as he spread your folds “Missed sex or missed staring at my pussy?” You grinned down at him as you sat up on your elbows, he looked up at you mischievously “Both” and without warning he dove in, licking a broad strip from your hole up to your clit. Your head fell back as a moan ripped through you, you know Eddie had taken to pleasuring himself but above not doing anything with Eddie you weren’t doing anything alone, the feeling of Eddie's warm tongue rolling through you a second time was almost overwhelming.

A third long lick before he focused on your clit, shorter even licks right in the nub had you gripping the sheets. His lips wrapped around you, sucking hard as his tongue flicked up and down, your hand came to snake between his damp curls and tug harshly causing Eddie to groan as he went faster.

“Shit baby, we- we gotta be quiet” you forced out a strained whisper between pants as the vice grip on Eddie's roots tightened, all Eddie did was hum in response as one of the hands snaked around the backs of your thighs holding you to him lifted. The hand that had previously been gripping onto the bed sheets for purchase whipped away to hold a tight fist against your lips, biting down hard on your knuckles as you felt a long thick finger slip easily into you.

“Mm fuck” you whined against it as he pushed a second in, pumping in and out furiously as his tongue flicked at an angry pace. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something a harsh knock sounded at the door. Startling both you and Eddie as he pulled his mouth off you, head dropping down to rest his head on your mound “You gotta be fucking kidding me” he gritted through his teeth.

You took a deep sigh as you slackened your grip on his hair, other hand coming down to the sheets to half push yourself up. “Hang on baby, mommy’ll be right there” you called strained to the door as Eddie knocked his head on your mound, the hair tickling his forehead, fingers still deep inside you. “Uh it’s just me, Steve” a deep voice sounded from the other side.

“Oh” you fell back down on the bed, “Uh yeah?” you managed to even out your voice as you spoke, “No no don’t come in!” You shouted as you saw the doorknob turn, hand held out in the direction of the door as if to stop him. You sighed as it flung back into place “Uh I was just looking for Eddie” he tried keeping his voice down as he called through the door “What do you want?” Eddie hollered as he raised his head, irritation dripping from his voice “I was just gonna talk to you about uh my car, we talked about it earlier”

“Yeah yeah I’ll take a look at it tomorrow” he set his chin pushing down onto the sparse hair on your mound again as he looked over to the door Aalright great I was just-“ “Steve I’ll be knuckle deep in your car tomorrow right know I’m knuckle deep in something else” he called, the offended gasp you let out as you scolded him “Edward!” with a light slap to the back of his head only had him grinning up at you smug. “Haha alright dude see ya tomorrow” Steve laughed on the other side as he heard the smack “Ok BYE Steve!” Eddie almost shouted.

You both listened intently as you heard heavy footsteps lead away from the door “Eddie rea- ooooh shit” you broke off as Eddie set his lips back onto you, pumping his fingers in and out of you equally as fast if not faster than he had before, resuming his tackle on your clit as if nothing had happened.

With each pump he worked faster and faster until his hand was working at an angry pace to get you to the edge, your hand pulled harder at his hair as you writhed beneath him turning to sink your teeth into the comforter. You whined as you felt that familiar feeling boil in your core, only egging Eddie on as he sucked harder.

“Fuck I’m-I’m c-close” you whined as your hips inched away from him, Eddies fingers sinking into your skin in a bruising grip and forcing you back to him “Shit shit shit!” was all the warning as a spray of warm liquid hit him in the face, causing him to reel back. Watching in awe as you drenched his neck, chest and hand into a furious squirt.

Within seconds it slowed to a stop as well as Eddie's fingers as he watched you panting heavily in front of him. Eyes bulging he watched as the hand that had previously ripped away from his hair to grip the sheets and fall slack next to you as you sunk into the mattress panting heavily. “Holy fuck” he breathed as he himself panted, getting to his feet and looming over you, hand falling out to keep him raised off you as his other held your shoulder gently, smoothing over your skin as he went to cup your cheek, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, pausing your panting to kiss him back.

The skin previously dried from his shower now soaking pressing against you as he fell onto you, both hands coming up to hold you in place as he pulled you to him, head lifting from the bed to meet him. The long kiss broke apart and you fell back onto the bed, breathing slowing as you gathered yourself.

“Scootch up baby” Eddie whispered as he pushed himself off you “Hm?” You hummed as you opened your eyes, hands pushing into the patterned throw as you pushed yourself off the foot of the bed and up to land against the pillows. Eddie crawled up the bed, hand pushing softly to part your knees and make room for him.

Finally your daze melted away as you looked up to find Eddie on his calves, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as he stared down at you in awe, slowly pumping himself, each stroke revealing his angry red tip dribbling a hefty amount of precum.

You chuckled breathlessly “Don’t want me to return the favour?” Eddie shook his head furiously as he toppled over to rest on top of you “Uh uh” he breathed and without warning lined himself up with you thrusting himself into the hilt. He let out a loud groan while you gasped in surprise. “Aaahahahuuuuh fuck” he complained breathlessly as the hand on his cock slithered up to grab at your hip.

“Shiiit feel so good baby” his breath fanned against your ear as he buried his face in your shoulder, setting a slow pace of his hips, lips attaching back to your neck. The low whine of your throat only made Eddie speed his hips up “Baby, s-s’too big” Eddie laughed as you whined “Mm been a while?” he pulls his face out of the crook of your neck to grin down at you. As you roll your eyes Eddie plants both of his hands just below your armpits, leaning down to kiss you as he places one hard thrust into your hips, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside you he liked to call the danger zone for some stupid reason, actually the reason being that it either caused you incredibly pleasure, or incredible pain depending on what position you were in. This particular position was the former, and it showed as you moaned loudly against him.

Braking off the kiss he moved a hand to plaster over your mouth as he thrusted another hard thrust, somehow managing to hit even deeper inside you, his head nuzzling back into the crook of your neck to leave bruises all along the expanse of your throat. Muffling the second loud moan as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, mouth dropping in pure pleasure. Eddie hummed in agreement as he thrusted again “Mhm yeah thats the spot, fuck” he was now setting a slow pace of hard thrusts, each time inching deeper inside you as your hands pulled angrily at the roots of his locks.

Your left hand moved from the grip near his neck to circle around his arm, fingers pressing harshly into the skin of his shoulder, nails digging in to leave small crescent moons into the inked slightly tanned skin. The same tattoo which had Eddie moaning in something other than pleasure as he first lay down on his back after a five hour appointment, complaining that he had to lay on his stomach till it healed.

Now as you touched the ink Eddie only groaned as your nails scratched at his shoulder blades, hard thrust transitioning to quick smacks of his hips against yours, skin slapping against skin. That would have been the only sound apart from moans that would have been heard if it weren't for “Eddie the bed” you panted as the old wood and springs began squeaking with each of Eddie's movements. “You know how many beds I had to listen to rattling last night?” he pulled away from his attack on your reddening neck to stare down at you, panting between each word “Yeah it's our turn” he dove back in to suck hard at your collarbone.

His hips were now at a furious pace, how he hadn't cum already he had absolutely no clue but somehow he had managed to hold off. That was until he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him, the burning in his belly he’d been ignoring became reality all too quickly. Hips working faster as he pulled off your collar to look back at you, hand still collapsed over your mouth, neck craned back into the pillow to match your eyes practically looking at the back wall. “Fuck ba- shit” he broke off in a groan as you squeezed harder around him “S-Sweetheart, n-not gonna last loOoong!” he tried to whisper but failed miserably as your ankles locked behind him pressing him further into you.

Bed squeaking, skin slapping, throats groaning and moaning in blinding pleasure echoed all around the room as Eddie's movement stopped, bottoming out inside you in a loud groan as hot spurts of cum painted your walls.

For minutes both of you just lay panting, a jumble of limbs as both of you tried to catch your breath. It was nice, lying tangled up with Eddie, naked and sweaty, totally counteracting your shower but it was nice, until it got too hot. You pushed Eddie off you, a reluctant grunt sounding from the back of his throat as he pulled out “Where you going?” he whispered as he felt a dip in the bed next to him while he lay eyes closed on his back. “Gonna open a window it's boiling in here” you stepped cautiously over the floorboards as you opened the old window, sighing as cool night air hit your skin. You looked back to see Eddie fucked out and spent with his eyes still closed on the bed and awkwardly picked up one of the towels discarded on the floor and whipped yourself off.

Eddie peeked his eyes open as he saw you walk over to the duffle bags, dropping both towels on the bench “You-you getting dressed?” there was a hint of nervousness to his voice as he sat up, as if the prospect of you putting clothes on was like you closing yourself off again. “Relax I’m just putting on some underwear” you chuckled as you fished out a pair of forest green brazilians and pulled them over your legs.

Eddie fell back against the bed again, laughing as he felt a pair of clean boxers hit his face. Pulling them on he hopped back onto the bed with a wide grin, beaming at you like a child receiving a bag of candy or their favourite toy. “What's got you so happy?” you chuckle as you nestle up to him, pushing his hands away as he was about to wrap them around you, turning to lay on your side and rest your head on his chest instead of his face buried in your shoulder.

“Oh you know my stock shares went up” his joke earned a laugh as he held your waist and trailed his fingers up and down your arm. The giggle you let out had his smile cracking wider and his arms holding you to him tighter. “Yup I stiiill got it” he smirked as you slapped his chest lightly.

For once it seemed neither of you were woken by any distractions, Eddie roused slowly face mushed against your hair as he pulled back to see that during the night the both of you must have moved and he was now back to spooning you just like every other night. As the numb feeling of sleep tingled away he squeezed his fingers to find his hand cupping your breast. He chuckled as he heard the low whine from your throat, the sound jogging his memory.

Oh fuck, hed gotten to touch you, fuck you, even made you squirt! That wasn't even something normal when you were having sex on a regular basis. Memories of being inside you, a tangle of legs, you pulling at his hair, sucking at your neck, all swam to the forefront of his mind. Leaning over he found himself stunned by the amount of deep purple and brown hickies that littered your skin, he couldn't even count them on his fingers Jesus Christ. Dark marks going all the way from just below your jaw all the way down to an inch or so away from your nipples, when did he even have time to do all that?

He was torn from his thoughts as you stirred, turning in his grasp to lay on your back, eyes slowly opening to see Eddie hovering above you, dopey grin painting his face. Your hands went up to the hem of the comforter when you frowned, lifting it up you peeked at what was hidden, frown dissipating to realisation as you whispered an “Oh right” which had Eddie snorting and dropping his forehead on to yours.

“Mm morning handsome” you hummed as his lips pulled away from a deep passionate kiss “Morning beautiful” he croaked, head pulling back in shock “Beautiful” he croaked again, voice strained, he cleared his throat “Beautiful, there we go” he laughed as you giggled, those sweet noises once again having his heart doing flips in his chest.

“So beach day again or you wanna do something else? Dustin mentioned a hike” Eddie rolled off you to lie on his back as you propped yourself up on an elbow next to you “Hmm well I am torn, can either watch you hopp around in that sad little excuse for a bathing suit you wore yesterday or stare at you ass in those bike shorts, it really is a tough decision” he grinned down at you, snorting you told him “Well my regular bikini is all dry now so don't worry you don't have to watch me hopp around in that other one” Eddie shrugged “Probably for the best, not easy hiding a boner in swim trunks, trust me” he widened his eyes.

Ophelia and Roxette strolled in not much later to find Eddie getting dressed as you had wandered off to the bathroom.

“Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's like 90° outside” Lucas threw his hands out as he plopped down next to you on the couch, everyone eating an assortment of fruit, cereal and toast. Eddie snorted from the other side of the table which had both of you turning towards him, Lucas with a confused frown and you with a warning glare “I’m just cold” you explained weakly “How on earth are you cold?” Mike sat down on the arm of the chair El was occupying. “Uh I just am?” “Oh come on, just take it off” Mike shrugged.

“I-I’d rather not” you tried taking a bite of your toast to signal the end of the conversation, “Yeah she's gotta hide those massive hickies” Gareth sauntered over to hang of the back of Eddie's armchair taking an animalistic bit of a baconstrip “Not doing a good job by the way” you pulled the hood up further around your neck as the people around the living room area all turned to you. “Whats a hickey?” Jonathan's son Charlie piped up “Oh it's like a-” “Gareth” you turned to him to glare at him too who held his hands up in defeat “It's just a bruise sweetie, like when you fall and hurt yourself” Charlotte waddled over to pat her son on the head, everyone on the couch scooching up to make room for the pregnant lady.

“Eh no one cares babes just take your hoodie off, you must be boiling” Charlotte smiled happily as she waved you off next to you, sighing you set your plate down and pulled the hoodie over your head, “Jesus christ!” the room erupted in laughter as near 20 hickeys in a steady flow down to the hem of your tanktop was revealed. You forced a straight tight lipped smile and gestured your hands out. Gareth slapped Eddie on his shoulder as he laughed “Didn’t know you had it in ya big guy” chuckling he stood up straight behind him “Mm thanks” Eddie grumbled as he finished the rest of his cereal.

“Seriously what did you guys do yesterday?” Mike laughed, “Didn't you hear them?” Gareth imitated a high pitched version of a bed squeaking as you curled in on yourself. Roxette hurried over and climbed into you lap as she laughed “What is uncle Gareth doing?” the supposed uncle in question was in the midst of thrusting his hips back and forth, thankfully not making any lude imitations of moans “He's just being silly” you explained as you wrapped your arms around her. “Oh god” you sighed amused as Charlie and Lucas's son Billy copied Gareth's movements “Would you please refrain from teaching my kid that stuff? He’s four” Charlotte complained as she grabbed her son by the arm and yanked him to her “Yeah dude stop, no one wants to see that shit” Lucas chimed in.

Soon enough almost everyone was outside gathered by the beach, save from Charlotte who went inside to rest, Jonathan following her and trusting Dustin to keep an eye on his kids. Blankets and towels were spread out in the sand and grass as the same group from the first day lounged on the chairs now back in their place from bonfire night. Kids splashed in the water as well as adults, some lying tanning in the sun or forcing sunscreen onto stroppy children.

Roxette and Ophelia ran up jumping excitedly as you pulled your shorts down to tan, begging you to come jump off the jetty with them. After some faux complaining and getting a rise out of Roxy you agreed, laughing as they ran off in front of you. Walking past Eddie caught his attention immediately, the rim of the beer bottle he was holding falling away from his lips as it seemed that the world stopped around him and watching you move in slow motion. Teeth showing in a happy laugh, fingers wrapped around the hem on each side of your bikini bottoms, securing them to your hips, thick thighs rubbing against each other with each step, tits in a soft bounce from your movements. Faded ink tattoos mixed with fresher ones glittering in the sunlight as it sat high up in the sky. The quick one second of a flash of a smile towards him was the equivalent of an hour as you turned and continued walking.

The laughter and chatter died around him as if he was submerged under water simply listening to the sounds of the ocean. In the back of his mind he thought he may have cooled down with his rapid heart beat and tensing in his thighs whenever he was around you in anything close to the line of modesty after you’d finally had sex, but no. If anything his heart was beating even faster than it had before in his life, not even the muffling of his chest could hide the beats from sounding out around him, much less hide the feeling of his swim shorts tightening around him.

Sitting up straight from his wide legged slackened position he stared in awe at the plush thickness of your thighs, to your concealed mound up to the soft rolls of your tummy, slight jiggle of the fat around your arms and bounce of your tits, and Oh. My. God. As he zoned in on the particular area which consumed his mind most of the time he saw those faint outlines of hearts, pressing against the lavender fabric, had it not been for the sun beating down on you he most definitely would have seen the shape of your hardened nipples framed so perfectly by those little diamond encrusted silver hearts.

Since this morning you had switched your nipple piercings, at some point, without his knowledge, and he knew you knew those little hearts were his absolute favourite of all the body modifications you had. She’s put those on for me. The hearts disappeared out of his view as you veered off to the small wooden dock, the globes of your ass swaying from side to side with every step you took, following your girls down as they desperately jumped up and down in waiting for you.

Just as quick as the moment came, it was gone, as he watched you disappear under the surface of the water, cannonballing in with a large splash, Roxette eagerly on your tail, copying you and cannonballing in only a few inches away from your face. You laughed as you splashed her back, clapping as Ophelia too resurfaced.

“Yo you listening to me?” Gareth slapped Eddie's arm in an attempt to regain his attention, not having noticed you walking by, he turned away from the small dots of your heads floating in the distance. “Hm? Oh right Zander yeah what about him?” Gareth repeated his comment about how their boss at the auto shop had slipped up with a recent purchase that was vital in the repair of a snazzy Rolls Royce he had been working on.

Eddie's attention drifted way off from the conversation again as he saw you swim up to the ladder and pull yourself up. Water dripping off your body as you shoved your hair out of your face. Time slowed again as you dipped your fingers into the hem of your bottoms, pulling at the fabric to lay back properly over your ass from the water forcing them up to nestle between your cheeks as you jumped into the lake. The action wasn’t graceful, in fact it was far from it, but from the edge of the beach where Eddie sat currently having an out of world experience it was the sexiest, hottest thing he had ever witnessed you doing. Even though he couldn't see it he just knew the skin of your ass would jiggle as the elastic snapped back against it.

“Seriously dude!” This time Gareth shoved him, almost spilling the beer in the bottle over his lap, most definitely making the little situation with the raging boner straining against the mesh a lot worse had it gone further than sloshing around the neck.

Somehow he managed to regain focus and partake in a conversation which mostly consisted of slagging his boss off, coupled with a few swares which had several moms turning their heads in a glare. And somehow he managed to calm down and let his mind focus on other things as his cock slowly softened beneath the black and blue fabric.

“So Edward Munson” Steve grinned as he walked over the sand and slapped his friend on the shoulder “Don't let Nancy hear your wife calling you that, she'll start walking around calling me Stephen” he grimaced as Eddie turned from Gareth chuckling at his comment. “Seems something you did was successful” he walked over and sank down into the chair Gareth previously occupied, walking off to answer Jeff calling him over.

“Seems so” Eddie raised his bottle in a mock cheer as Steve uncapped his own “Seriously dude you gotta tell me how the fuck you manage to hold out that long” he leaned in, deepening his voice so no one could overhear. “What hold out for six months? a hellofalot of polaroids and dirty magazines and taking alleged showers” Eddie’s smirk matched Steves as he chuckled, Steve let out a loud obnoxious snort “No, bro, you're like 40 years old-” “41” Eddie grimaced as he cut him off “Right well 41, I’ve never in my life heard a bed make so much noise, you were going at it for like 30 minutes with constant eek eek eek” it was Eddies turn to snort now as Steve copied Gareth's form of imitating the bed squeaking.

“Do 50 hour weeks at an auto repair shop and maybe you'll catch up to me” Steve laughed as he spread his legs and sunk further into the wood. Ophelia ran up dripping cold water all over him as she hung off the armrest of his chair “What's up rugrat?” Eddie ruffled her already tousled and drenched hair “Dad wanna come play princess with me, Mercy, Louise and Emma? Roxette doesn't want to, says it's for girls. Even though she is one which I don't understand” Ophelia mumbled the last sentence as a low rumble left Eddies chest in the form of a deep chuckle “Not right now sweetheart, daddys talking to Steve right now but maybe later” he offered an apologetic smile towards his daughter. Even though he loved her, he wasn't quite fond of having her smear her moms makeup on his face as he wore a blanket for a dress, he was banished from wearing your dresses since he almost flashed Roxette while jumping on the couch.

“Okeeey” Ophelia grumbled and ran off to join Steve and Jonathans daughters who were already pulling at Charlottes arms. His gaze turned from his eldest to find you stepping off the jetty and making your way through the sand towards him. It was almost uncharacteristic how quickly he switched from trying not to upset his daughter to hungrily watch you in motion. Sure he drifted off and lost focus sometimes, ok a lot, but this wasn't something normal for him, he didn't even hear as Steve barked out a laugh beside him at the change in demeanour, before he even got a chance to let his eyes drift up and down your body you were stood in front of him, lips moving as you talked but not a single word registering to him.

He straightened his back and fought with himself as he desperately tried not to let his eyes roam your body and instead look into your eyes giving you his full attention “Huh sorry what?” Steve barked another laugh beside him, you giggled “I just said hi” you reached over behind him to grab your towel on the back of his chair, “Oh hi” Eddie breathed as your tits hovered two inches away from his nose, suddenly all the air had left the sphere around earth and he had to sputter to find his breath.

A pressing matter swam to the front of his mind and ripped him out of his trance “Where's Rocky?” he whipped his head around to look behind you and scan the beach “She’s inside, Arianas showing her the wonders of The Notorious B.I.G” you ran the towel over your head, squeezing the water out of your hair “Great first Tupac now B.I.G, you know I really had hope for her, she was listening to Mötley Crue and everything” the brown bottle raised to his lips as he took a sip of the now luke warm beer, he scrunched his face up in disgust and propped the drink into the sand.

“Hah relax babe, she still obsessed with Mötley Crue, not that I’m very happy about it, the day she starts fangirling over them is the day I divorce you” Eddie scrunched his face up again, soft lines forming on his nose as his brows furrowed “Im kidding!” you held your hands up. With your towel in your hand and arms out by your sides Eddie was fighting for dear life to keep eye contact with you, if only he had his sunglasses on.

“Oh yo the car” Steve cut into the admittedly mundane but to Eddie, it was a heart squeezing conversation with his wife “Oh right!” Eddie made to stand up as you moved out of the way, eagerly you took his place as the seat next to you vacated with Steve standing to join him.

It was your turn to oggle now.

For the first time since December, watching Eddie pull at the neck of his threadbare t-shirt was exhilarating. Unbeknownst to you you were falling into the exact same trance Eddie had been, where the world fell silent and time stopped. Your eyes widened as you saw the sun bleached fabric float over his skin, inch by inch revealing that faint happy trail and that toned v-line pointed down like an arrow towards the price you were now dying to win over. Toned abs revealed themselves slowly next to a set of sleek inked hips, twigs and vines littered with roses winding down the v-line, roses matching the ones that sat under your right breast, peeking out from under your bra. A demon head and a spider showed on his left peck, hovering above a large majestic dragon protecting its four ribbed eggs, each symbolising a different person he admired and loved deeply, a constant reminder that he never wanted to lose them. Ophelia, Roxette, Wayne and you.

Tattoo sleeves windled from his shoulders down to his wrists, puppet masters, bats, more dragons, daggers, dice and so much more all woven perfectly together resting under the surface of the soon to be golden brown skin. Formerly pale now tanning shining under the brightness of the sky, reflection of the water sparkling at his sides.

It was your turn to not register a word as Eddie spoke “We’re just gonna go have a look at Steve’s car, I’ll be back in a bit” you felt your neck twist as you followed the collections of tattoos on chiselled muscles past you where a hand dropped his shirt onto the arm of the chair and back behind you, leaning in your chair and twisting uncomfortably to follow the wide spread wings connecting to a female form, organs on show and hands displayed to its side, a tribute to his musical hero and favourite album In Utero by Nirvana.

You felt like a teenager caught staring at her crush as you whipped around to look back at the beach when both Steve and Eddie turned to look back at you.

“Dude she was totally checking you out?” Steve slapped him on his chest as they tread through the grass “What? Who?” Eddie turned to see you quickly pull back in your chair “Who do you think idiot?”.

Part 2!

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babydollmarauders · 9 months

Note

what were everyone’s reactions to el telling the fam that lovie was pregnant ?

i decided to use this ask as a gateway for a joint blurb post on how everyone found out so…

Luke was the first one to find out, which they tried to hide for as long as possible, because they really wanted to tell him with everyone else, but he found out on accident.

because it’s Lovie’s second pregnancy, her bump appears faster than it did in her pregnancy with El, so beginning to mid october, when she’s 3 months, her belly has already popped, but it’s small enough that she can hide it by wearing Jack’s shirts around the house and not wearing tight fitting clothing. which keeps Luke oblivious. until….

i sit at the end of the bed, sweatpants and a sports bra adorning my figure, showing off my 3 month baby bump.

my eyes track my husband as he gets ready for morning practice. it’s still too early for El to be up, but i can hear Luke clashing around the house, getting his gear together.

Jack crouches down in front of me, his warm hand pressing against the side of my belly. he leans forward, leaving a soft kiss on my bump, and my heart flutters at his gentle touches.

“love, you gotta finish getting ready for practice. Luke has knocked on the door twice now.” i remind him, running a hand through his wavy hair.

“i don’t wanna leave.” he groans, standing from his spot at the end of the bed. he holds a hand out for me to latch onto, pulling me up from my sitting position and into his arms.

“you’ll be back in a few hours.” i laugh. “and by the time you get back, El will be awake and bugging me about you.”

Jack chuckles and steps away from me, double checking his gear bag that sits on a chair in the corner of our bedroom.

i rest a hand on my small bump, looking at the full length mirror in front of our bed.

“Jack, let’s g-” the bedroom door swings open, and through the mirror, my eyes lock with Luke’s which widen at the sight of me and begin to flicker between me, my stomach, and his brother.

“what the fuck, Luke?” Jack huffs, moving to step in front of me, as if it’ll erase the sight of my protruding baby bump from his younger sibling’s mind.

“what the fuck, me? what the fuck, you!” Luke exclaims, pointing at his brother with a face of shock. “Lovie, you’re pregnant? does mom know?”

“Luke, we’re married adults that already have one kid, mom doesn’t need to know everything.” Jack reminds him, rolling his eyes.

“so, no?” Luke raises an eyebrow, and i take this as my time to step in.

“Momma doesn’t know yet, Lukey. we plan on telling her, Dad, and Quinn on the trip to Vancouver at the end of this month.” i explain, stepping out from behind Jack, to show myself to brother-in-law.

“we were gonna tell you there too, but you don’t know how to knock.” Jack scoffs and i reach back to smack his chest, making him pout.

“was this one planned?” Luke eyes my bump warily, as if at any moment the baby could just pop out.

“yeah.” i nod. “we’ve always talked about having our kids 2 years apart, like you guys, and with El’s second birthday in March, we knew we should start trying. we didn’t expect it to happen on the first try though.”

Luke’s face contorts, his lip spreading in a wide smile, and he steps forward, pulling me into a tight hug.

“congratulations, you guys.”

“thank you, bubba.” i pull back, watching as Luke claps my husband on the back.

“how far along are you?” he asks, poking my bump with an index finger. Jack swats his hand away from my belly, rolling his eyes again.

“14 weeks. so, 3 months.”

Luke’s eyes get wide again.

“oh gross, you guys! my bedroom at the lake house was right next to yours.”

Jack and Lovie’s plan to tell Ellen, Jim, and Quinn pretty much blew up in their faces once they got to Quinn’s apartment though.

i wrap my coat further around myself in attempt to hide my growing baby bump. 4 months along and i’m already feeling like i’ll be back the waddling instead of walking any day now.

Jack holds El on his hip, letting her watch the glowing little elevator light that tells you which floors you’re on; finding amusement in her entertainment.

the elevator stops at the 10th floor and we all pile out. i trail behind my husband and his younger brother as we walk down the hallway, stopping in front of Quinn’s apartment.

it’s not but a moment after Luke knocks that Quinn answers the door, letting us in as he’s mid-talk with his mother.

he hugs Luke first, before moving onto Jack and pressing a kiss to El’s cheek, making her giggle from the scratch of his beard. finally, he gets to me moving in to give me a hug but i bypass him, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek before stepping away.

Quinn’s brows furrow, his nose scrunching in confusion as he eyes me while his parents join us from the kitchen.

“oh look at my baby!” Ellen calls as she steps in the room.

“mom, i’m not a baby anymore.” Luke huffs, but his mother rolls her eyes.

“i was talking about El.” she shakes her head, opening her arms for a hug from my daughter. Jack sets El down, but all the talk about babies must turn a light on in her head, because as soon as her feet land on the floor, she’s turning to me.

her little hands quickly rise and press against my bump and she calls out “baby!”

the room goes silent, Jack and i exchanging a flustered glance as Luke stares gobsmacked at his niece. Ellen’s eyes go wide as she rises to her full height, clutching Jim’s arm, and Quinn’s jaw goes slack as he look between my husband and my daughters hands.

“what?” Ellen is the first one to speak, a grin on her face.

“mommy, baby!” El shouts, hitting the bottom of my stomach now. i wince, causing Jack to go in full dad mode and scoop our daughter back up.

“what did we say, El? we gotta be gentle with mommy’s tummy.” he scolds, looking straight in her eyes. El pouts, her lips falling in an exaggerated frown, and she hides her face in Jack’s neck.

i can see the guilt in Jack’s eyes at the fact that he’s upset his baby girl, but i don’t a chance to comfort him before Quinn is speaking up.

“you’re pregnant?” he asks, excitedly, making his mother smack at his arm.

“let them say it themselves!” Ellen scolds her eldest son and i giggle.

“i’m pregnant.” i confirm. Ellen squeals, bounding over to wrap me up in a hug.

“oh honey, congratulations!” she pulls away her hands hovering over my bump as she looks up at me for approval. at my nod, her hands drop down to touch my belly, a large smile gracing her lips.

Jim and Quinn say their congrats to Jack before Ellen moves over to her middle son, allowing her husband and eldest to get their turn with me.

“congratulations, hun. can’t wait to spoil the little one.” Jim tells me, wrapping me in a bear hug.

“you already spoil the first one, i think Jack might not be too happy if you spoil this one too.” i laugh, pulling back to let Quinn hug me.

“he’ll get over it.” Jim shrugs, stepping back.

Quinn looks at me with a fond smile first, before his arms wrap around my shoulders, his hand running over the back of my head.

“congratulations, sis.” he whispers in my ear, swaying our bodies back and forth just slightly.

“thank you, Quinny.” i grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“this one planned?” he asks as we pull apart.

“why do you guys keep asking that?!” i chuckle, hitting his arm. “yes! this one was planned, you asshole!”

he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “just had to check.”

Jack, Luke, and i shed our coats and the family moves to the living room, sitting all around on Quinn’s furniture.

“so, how far along are you?” Ellen asks excitedly, her fingers drumming together as i dig through my purse for a sonogram picture.

“four months.” Jack tells his mother, watching as her face lights up when i hand her the photo.

“not too long until you know the gender.” Jim chimes in, looking over his wife’s shoulder at the photo.

“that appointment is in a few weeks.” i tell them, smiling as Ellen hands the photo to Quinn, who grins down at the black and white picture.

Ellen looks between me and Jack, who plays peekaboo with the almost two year old that sits on his lap. “oh, i’m just so happy for you two.”

#faithlynn speaks 🪐#ask faithlynn ✨#el!hughes au

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patheticdarling · 1 year

Text

Decisions

Part II of Traitors

Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon & her grandmother, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen have now successfully fled the capital and have just landed on Dragonstone to warn her mother, Queen Rhaenyra, of the inevitable war to come. Princess Y/N is faced with the toughest of decisions.

Warnings: ANGST/switched povs (aemond’s + reader’s)/cussing/crying/swords/pregnancy/mentions of miscarriage/childbirth/talks of war/burning bodies/ALL RIGHTS TO HBO…possible part 3 👀

Word Count: 5770

*NOT MY GIF*

*Y/N’S POV*

The two of you had made it to Dragonstone safely and quickly. Luckily, the Greens were too busy readying everything for Aegon’s coronation that they hadn’t been prepared for a stunt like the one you and your grandmother pulled. You should’ve been happy as you dismounted Seasmoke, your feet landing on the soft sands of Dragonstone’s beaches.

“Are you alright?” your grandmother asked, rushing to check you over.

You pulled your hands from hers, “I’m fine.” A lie. You both knew it. You had just abandoned the love of your life and it wasn’t even your choice.

She pushed your hair behind your ear, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. If it could be another way-”

“But it cannot,” you cut her off, “Let us go. I’m already dreading telling my mother the news.”

Your grandmother sighed, “Which do you think will upset her more? That her father’s dead or that her stepmother and siblings have betrayed her and usurped her throne?”

“Gods be good,” you muttered as the two of you began your climb up the long steps of Dragonstone. Your swollen feet would’ve given out had it not been for your grandmother lending you an arm.

It had been a while since you’d been to Dragonstone, your mother had taken all of you there to live shortly after Joffrey was born. You had returned to King’s Landing for your wedding when both you and Aemond came of age then you didn’t see your mother until just recently when she came to defend Luke’s right to Driftmark and simultaneously announced your two eldest brothers’ engagement to your younger cousins, Baela and Rhaena. It almost seemed foreign to you even if you had spent most of your early childhood here.

“Princess Y/N, Princess Rhaenys,” Ser Lorent greeted you, “We weren’t expecting you. And on dragon back no less.”

“We need an audience with Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon immediately. It is a matter of extreme urgency,” your grandmother explained.

He gave a curt nod, “Follow me.” He led the two of you through the gates as you waddled and held close to your grandmother. He stopped before a set of doors, “One moment.”

Ser Lorent slipped into the room. You waited for a few moments before he returned, “They’ll see you now.”

You followed him once more into the Great Hall of Dragonstone, “The Princess Y/N Velaryon and the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.”

“Y/N,” your mother beamed at you. You practically ran into her arms. You laughed as your swollen bellies collided a bit, “You’re glowing. Motherhood becomes you.”

“You as well, Mother,” you smiled back before letting out a soft sigh.

“Princess Rhaenys,” she greeted your grandmother, “Might we hope for news of Lord Corlys’ recovery?”

“Viserys is dead,” she replied rather bluntly.

“Grandmother,” you snapped at her slightly.

Your mother’s welcoming grin had fallen as Daemon’s head whipped around, “I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father, possessed a kind heart,” your grandmother walked closer, “There is more,” your mother’s hand tightened around yours as tears built in not just her eyes but yours as well, “Aegon has been crowned as his successor.”

A soft wince left your mother as she dropped your hand to cradle her stomach slightly, “They crowned him?” her eyes nearly vacant as the tears slid down her cheeks.

“How did Viserys die?” Daemon asked as he leaned himself and Dark Sister against the Painted Table.

“I could not say,” Rhaenys sighed.

Your mother’s voice quivered, “How long ago?”

“A day past, perhaps two,” your grandmother answered, “Y/N and I were made prisoners in our quarters while the Queen made her preparations.”

“Viserys has been slain,” Daemon asserted.

“Alicent demanded you both declare for Aegon,” she looked between you and your grandmother.

“She did,” your mother’s brow raised at your grandmother’s answer.

“We refused her,” you cut in.

“And yet you are alive,” Daemon had a teary glare set on the two of you.

“The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit,” Rhaenys explained.

“We witnessed it ourselves just before we fled on Meleys and Seasmoke,” you continued.

“They crowned him before the masses,” your mother’s voice filled with agony as her hand clutched the end of the table.

“So that the masses would see him as their rightful king,” you clarified.

Daemon’s voice full of anger, “That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you both could have burned them all for it.”

“A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure,” Daemon nodded slightly with a grunt, “But that war is not mine to begin. Nor is it Y/N’s. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house.”

“The Greens are coming for you, Mother,” you added, “And for my brothers and for me and my baby.”

“You should leave Dragonstone at once,” Rhaenys turned to leave.

Tears fell from her eyes before a sharp gasp left her mouth, one of her hands clutching her belly and the other on the table for support. All of you turning to her, concerned.

“Mother?” you put your hand to her back as she keeled over, “What is it?”

She quickly folded up the ends of her dress, sticking her hand up the ruffles. A soft gasp left your mouth at the sight of her bloodied fingers, “The babe is coming.”

“Maester!” you cried out, “Get the Maester! Now!” The guards in the hall rushed out, Daemon and you moved to support your mother. The Maester met you outside of her chambers.

“We’ve got her,” he reassured you.

“Mother, are you sure-”

“Get out!” she practically shrieked. You and Daemon were quick to listen and scurried off.

“Where are my brothers?” you asked him, practically running to keep up with him as he stormed through the halls.

“Your grandmother has already gone to fetch them from the beach,” Daemon’s voice curt.

“Daemon,” you stopped him, “There was nothing we could have done.”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “Rhaenys, I understand. She’s never been the biggest adversary to your mother or to me. But you? They stole your mother’s birthright and you just let them-”

“I did not! I was made a prisoner. The Queen only kept me alive so she could use me as a political bargaining tool to get my mother to bend the knee! And yet I refused her even when she assured me that no harm would come to any of you if I bowed to Aegon.”

Daemon scoffed, “The One-Eyed Prince must really have you wrapped around his finger.”

“I beg your pardon?” you hissed, “Do not speak of my husband in-”

“Your husband is a traitor. And do you know what happens to traitors, Princess?” your jaw clenched at his words, “They die. Screaming.”

“My husband had no choice, just as I did,” you spat.

Daemon scoffed, bordering on a chuckle, “You just keep telling yourself that.”

*AEMOND’S POV*

“Aemond, please, stop pacing,” Alicent groaned, “Drink some water and-”

“Water?” Aemond scoffed, “Will water bring my pregnant wife back to me, Mother? Will water ever convince her to forgive me? Or me to forgive her? Tell me, Mother. Will it?”

Alicent sighed, “I only meant that you need to ease your mind, darling. Your grandfather has already gone to give Rhaenyra the terms of surrender. No harm will come to any of them, especially not to Y/N.”

“You don’t know that,” he shook his head, “She is going to be surrounded by people who only thirst for the throne, no matter the cost. It was my job to keep her safe and now I cannot even do that. My child will be fatherless and-”

“Your child will not be fatherless because they will have a father,” the Queen Mother cut in as she took her son’s hands in her own, “You will be there to father your child, Aemond. Rhaenyra will agree to Aegon’s terms because it is the best thing for the Realm and all will be as it was.”

Aemond’s hands fell from his mother’s, “It will never be as it was. My wife and child are lost.”

“That’s not true, Aemond,” Alicent sniffled.

“It is, Mother. I will have to learn to accept it. Live with it. I have duties to this family and I cannot allow my judgment to be clouded.”

The Queen Mother was taken aback by her younger son’s words. She had never seen Aemond happier than when he was with Y/N and she nearly wept tears of joy at his excitement to become a father. But that light in his eyes was dwindling and it broke her heart to know that she was partly to blame.

She cleared her throat, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes, “We need to send terms to the larger houses first. Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Lord Borros Baratheon seems an ideal man to-”

“I will fly to Storm’s End myself,” Aemond cut in, “Lord Borros has four unmarried daughters. We could promise Daeron to at least one of them.”

Alicent nodded in agreement, “Yes, we could. But Aemond, I only want you to go if you feel-”

“I leave on the morrow,” he answered quickly before leaving his mother’s chambers.

The One-Eyed Prince had chosen to stuff his feelings away, not only from others like his mother, but from himself as well. Aemond had forced himself to face the belief that he would never see his wife again, would never kiss her or hug her. And that his child would never meet him and he’d never get to hold them or watch them grow. His entire heart was gone.

*Y/N’S POV*

The wind carried off the dark smoke of the funeral pyre. You wept softly with your brothers as the flames cradled your late baby sister, who your mother had lovingly named Visenya, after Aegon the Conqueror’s fierce sister-wife.

“This was not supposed to happen,” you sniffled.

Your twin brother, Jacaerys sighed, “No, it wasn’t. First, they killed Grandsire and now our sister. The Greens will pay for this.”

“Jace,” Luke whispered, “Not here. Not now.”

The attention was drawn away from the funeral pyre as a member of Viserys’ former Kingsguard approached your mother. He removed his helm, revealing Ser Erryk, your saviour back in King’s Landing. You turned to your grandmother who already held a small smirk on her face.

Ser Erryk removed your grandsire’s crown from his bag and knelt before your mother, “I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers,” he began to recite the Kingsguard vows as Daemon took the crown from him, “I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honour,” Ser Erryk finished.

Daemon approached your mother before gently placing the crown onto her head and falling onto his knee, “My Queen.”

The rest of you followed suit, slowly bending the knee to your new Queen. You held Joffrey’s hand as you guided him down with you and your older brothers. Everyone was then instructed to gather in the Great Hall to await the arrival of your mother. You elected to walk alongside your brothers and cousins.

“She was born to wear that crown,” you spoke proudly.

Luke smiled slightly, “Grandsire would have been proud.”

“Not if what the Greens claim is true,” Jace scoffed, “He would have rather seen Aegon bearing it apparently.”

“Jace,” you snapped at him, “Our mother is the rightful Queen. No one here thinks otherwise. The Greens will be dealt with when the time comes.”

“And what of your husband, Y/N?” Rhaena had cut in.

You had not thought about Aemond after the events with your mother, “I am not sure, Rhaena. What happens to him will not be up to me but to our Queen.”

“And what if she wants them all dead?” Baela asked, “That seems to be the customary punishment with traitors. Aemond is a traitor, is he not?”

You swallowed hard as you fidgeted with your wedding ring, “I know you’d all prefer it that way,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes, “Aemond, good and dead. Vhagar free for Rhaena to claim, as it should have been, right?” They all stood silent, “I know you all hate him and I know you all have good reason to. But he is still my husband. The father of my child. And the man that I love. So, my apologies if talk about murdering him does not bring me as much joy as it does to you.”

“Y/N, that is not-”

“It’s alright, Luke,” you cut him off, “I do not wish to discuss it further. It is time for us to hear from our Queen.”

You turned, walking ahead of them towards the Great Hall. The rest of the lords and ladies congregated around the Painted Table as it lit up in all its glory. Rhaena had become your mother’s designated cupbearer and waited near the top of the table, Baela joining your grandmother’s side while you and your brothers walked to the far end of the table.

Your mother, accompanied by some of her Queensguard entered the room as Daemon moved to introduce her, “Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” All of us bowed to her, “Your Grace.”

Rhaena approached her, “Wine, my Queen.”

Your mother kindly took the goblet, “Thank you, Rhaena. Come,” she nodded for both your cousins to join at the table. There was a slight awkwardness that filled the air as you all stood around. Your mother looked uncomfortable, “What is our standing?” she asked.

“We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men at arms,” Daemon answered, “Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there, but I cannot speak to the numbers.”

“We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon,” the Maester explained as Jace placed the pieces onto the table.

“My lady mother was an Arryn,” your mother pointed to the Eyrie on the table, “The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.”

“Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, Your Grace,” the Maester noted, “With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I’ve already sent ravens to Lord Grover.”

“Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed,” your mother huffed, “He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position and that we will support him should it come to war.”

“I’m going to treat with him myself,” Daemon answered.

“What of Storm’s End and Winterfell?” Lord Steffon Darklyn asked.

“There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath. And with House Stark, the North will follow,” Lord Bartimos Celtigar answered him.

“Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father’s promises,” your mother declared before turning to your grandmother, “What news from Driftmark?”

“Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone,” Rhaenys answered.

“To declare for his Queen,” Daemon interrupted.

“The Velaryon fleet is in my husband’s yoke. He decides where they sail,” she rebutted.

“We shall pray for both you and your husband’s support,” your mother stepped in, “Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake’s return to good health. There’s no port on the Narrow Sea that would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet,” she turned back to the table, “And our enemies?”

“We have no friends among the Lannisters,” Daemon explained, “Tyland has served the Hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.”

“Without the Lannisters we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth,” your mother concluded.

“No,” Daemon was quick to disagree, “The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace.”

“Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but talk of men is moot,” one of the lords spoke up, “Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.”

Your mother was a bit stunned at first, “The Greens have dragons as well.”

“They have three adults, by my count,” Daemon was again one of the first to speak up, “We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys,” your grandmother scoffed under her breath at the mention of her dragon, “Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Your daughter has Seasmoke. Baela has Moondancer.”

“Daemon, none of our dragons have been to war,” your mother argued.

“There are also unclaimed dragons,” Daemon ignored her as he continued, “Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.”

“And who is to ride them?” your mother asked. Oddly one of her messengers rushed up the stairs, Ser Erryk going to meet him.

“Dragonstone has thirteen to their four. I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmont,” Daemon continued, “Now, we need a place to gather, a toehold large enough to house a sizable host,” he placed a piece down, “Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King’s Landing with the dragons. And we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.”

Your mother’s jaw tensed at Daemon’s attitude before Ser Erryk interrupted, “Your Grace, a ship has been sighted offshore: a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.”

Daemon was quick to move, “Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies,” he snatched Dark Sister from the table. The guards, your mother, and Daemon went to go meet with whomever washed up onshore. You knew Aemond had not accompanied them, he would’ve rode in proudly on Vhagar.

You were sitting in your chambers, reading an Old Valyrian story and humming softly to your bump, “Ahem,” you looked up to see Jace and Luke standing in the doorway, “May we come in?”

You nodded, “Yes,” placing down your book and standing from your seat, “What is it?”

“We just wanted to apologize for earlier,” Luke answered, “We should not-”

“Not we,” Jace stopped him, “Me. I know what you did couldn’t have been easy, Sister. And I apologize for my lack of empathy. I should have been more understanding of your situation.”

You sighed, “It’s alright. I know your past with Aemond is not a pleasant one,” Luke shifted uncomfortably, “But it is the past. We have grown. We’re not the same people, we’re not children anymore. And whatever is about to happen to all of us is larger than some childhood quarrel. I just want you to both understand that.”

“We do,” Luke nodded, “I’ve wanted nothing more than to put all that ugliness on Driftmark behind me. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did and I know Aemond won’t either. But, that does not mean we should dwell on it. He is my brother-by-law and the father of my future niece or nephew.”

“You’re a good man, Luke,” you smiled at him, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Man?” Jace chuckled, “He’s still a boy.” You both rolled your eyes at his lame teasing, “But, he is right. We care about you and the baby far more than some fight from years ago.”

You reached over and gave his hand a squeeze as well, “Thank you, brothers. This talk meant a lot to me.”

“You’re our sister, Y/N. We love you,” Luke smiled softly.

“I love you both,” you hugged them, “I just wonder what the next step is.”

“As do we,” Jace agreed, “The Greens are wise enough to know that they are outnumbered when it comes to dragons. Ships are another thing. Without Grandsire’s fleet, we’re left to whatever men we have on land.”

“Grandsire is a loyal man. House Velaryon is not fickle,” you explained.

There was word that your mother and Daemon had returned from their meeting with the Greens. Otto Hightower, himself, had presented Aegon’s terms of surrender to your mother. All the lords who backed your mother continued to argue back and forth on what should be done next, Daemon and your mother especially bumping heads on the matter. Your paternal Grandsire, Lord Corlys, had finally landed on Dragonstone but he was still weak and needed his rest. You opted to walk the halls of the castle in an attempt to ease your own worries.

“Y/N,” you turned to see your mother walking towards you.

“Mother,” you greeted as she joined your side, “How are you? Is Daemon-”

“Fine,” you could always tell when she lied but you decided not to push the matter further, “And Princess Rhaenys is with Lord Corlys as we speak,” she stopped the both of you, taking your hands, “How’re you, my sweet girl? I feel that with everything that has been happening, I have neglected to check in on you and your condition.”

You caressed your belly, “I’m alright. Just a lot on my mind, I suppose.”

“That is understandable. You have been through quite a lot in the past few days. But,” she moved to pull something from her pocket, “Perhaps this will help put your mind at ease.” she extended a letter to you, the Targaryen wax seal still unbroken around it, “Otto Hightower brought it with him. He told me that it was for you, from Prince Aemond.”

Your breath caught in your throat, “Aemond?” you practically choked out as you stared at the letter in her hands, “Did he say anything else? What it might be about or-”

She shook her head, “Only that it be delivered to you directly and urgently.”

You fidgeted with your wedding ring, wondering whether or not you should take it, “I..” you could barely find your words.

“Y/N,” she took the ringed hand you had been fidgeting with, “Take it.”

“But, what if he wants me to come back? Or worse, what if he never wants to see me again? I-I wouldn’t know what-”

“You won’t know what to do until you read the letter,” she cut you off, “So,” she placed it into your hands, “Go to your chambers. Read it. Then decide.”

You nodded, “Yes, Moth- sorry. Yes, Your Grace.”

She caressed your cheek, “I am still your mother. Doesn’t matter if I wear a crown or not,” she kissed your head, “Now go.”

You let out a deep breath before heading towards your chambers. Shutting the door behind you as you finally broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment. Immediately recognizing the neat cursive that he had always worked so hard to perfect because “how will I ever be taken seriously if I write like a seven-year-old?”

My Dearest, Y/N,

I know you little thought to hear from me. I little thought to even be writing this letter in the first place. However, I knew I needed to because there is so much I need to say.

I miss you, my wife. My true family. And I know you could probably never bring yourself to forgive me and I cannot say I blame you. I know my decision broke your heart just as yours did mine. I should not have made you choose. And I know we are both in an impossible situation. But I believe I may have found a solution to these problems.

Tonight, at the hour of the wolf. Meet me on the far side of Dragonstone, away from the guards and the castle. Come alone and tell no one.

All My Love,

Your Husband, Aemond

You continued to re-read it as hundreds of questions flooded your mind. What did he mean by solution? What if this was some sort of trap set by the Greens? What if this wasn’t from Aemond at all? And none of them could be answered if you didn’t listen to the instructions.

Even if you told your typically understanding family, war was afoot. Even if your mother trusted it, Daemon would never. He’d go to meet Aemond himself, Dark Sister in hand. Telling anyone was not an option. Once again, you had no choice.

The darkest time of night came faster than you would have hoped for. You paced your chambers for quite a while, spinning your betrothal ring over and over as you did. You nearly jumped whenever you heard guards or servants pass by your door. And before you could think twice, you had thrown on your cloak and boots before walking out of your chambers.

You tried to conceal your face with your hood as you hurried through the empty halls of Dragonstone. The sound of your heels against the cobblestone echoed throughout them. You continued a quick pace, well as quick as you could go at nearly eight months pregnant.

“Y/N?” a voice called from behind you.

You turned to see your mother, “Mother,” you gave her a nod, “Good evening.”

She raised a brow at you, “Where are you off to? It is quite late.”

You stuttered a bit before finding your words, “I was just going on a walk. It has been quite hard to find sleep in these last few months of pregnancy.”

She smiled softly, “It was the same for me when I was pregnant with you and Jace. I suppose it must be first-time mother worries and such. Would you like me to ring for a servant? Perhaps they could give you something to help you sleep.”

You shook your head at her offer, “It’s alright. I’ve found that evening air has been the best remedy thus far.”

“Alright,” she nodded, “Be careful. Be sure to find sleep at some point. There is another small council meeting tomorrow and your attendance is needed.”

“Your Grace,” you smirked as you curtsied.

“Good night, sweet girl,” she smiled before turning to her own chambers. You waved her goodbye before continuing on your mission. You had elected not to take Seasmoke, worrying that you might wake someone. The air was crisp and cool as you trekked to the other end of the island. When you had finally made it to your meeting place, the breeze from the ocean was salty as it hit your face and tousled your hair, your fingers twirling your ring round and round.

“You never could break that nervous habit,” his familiar tone practically rang in your ear.

You whipped around to face him, “I-I was not sure what to expect. Part of me believed this to be some sort of trap. I’d be a fool not to be nervous.”

He let out a low chuckle as he finally stepped into the moonlight, “You know me well, my love. But I assure you, I am not here to trick you.” Aemond stalked closer to you, one of his hands slowly taking yours while the other rested on the curve of your bump.

“Then why are you here, Aemond? Surely, it is not to back my mother’s claim or convince me of your brother’s.”

“I am to take a new wife.” At first, his words seemed to be in some foreign language. That was the only possible explanation your mind could muster before they finally sank in.

“W-What?” your voice shook, a combination of anger and sadness. You tore away from his touch.

“My brother’s council speaks of annulling our marriage and betrothing me to one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters, so that we may ensure the loyalty of Storm’s End. I am to fly there on the morrow to present the terms to Lord Borros in person.”

The tears welled in your eyes, “And you are telling me this, why?” You did not give him the time to answer, “Did you truly need to hurt me even more? Why not just drive a blade through my heart and be done with it, Aemond? I would rather be dead than live just to see you be given to someone else!” you sobbed, “I-”

Your voice faded off as a sharp pain hit your abdomen. A tightening cramp-like feeling making you gasp and nearly keel over.

“Y/N? What is it?”

“The babe...” you grunted between words, trying to catch your breath, “The babe is coming. Now!”

Aemond did not hesitate to scoop you into his arms, the pain of your contractions distracting you from just how fast he was running.

“Stop there!” Ser Erryk tried to step in front of Aemond.

“Princess Y/N is in labour,” he huffed, “You must let me pass.”

“Prince Aemond, you helped in the usurping of the throne. I cannot allow you-”

“Seven Hells, just let him in! We can deal with all this political horse shit afterward!” you cried.

Ser Erryk seemed taken aback, “Y-Yes, Princess.” The guards finally stepped aside as Aemond carried you through the halls, finally arriving at your bedchamber.

“Get the midwives and the Maester now!” he barked his instructions at one of your handmaidens.

“AHHHH!” your screams practically shook the walls of the castle. Nearly all of the staff questioned Aemond’s surprising presence in the room but were too focused on your labours to pay attention for long.

“Y/N?!” your mother’s voice trembled with worry as she entered your room.

“Mother,” you called out for her, shakily raising one of your hands to her.

“I’m here, sweet girl,” she quickly took your hand, sitting at your side, “I’m right here.” She had been too consumed with you to even note Aemond’s presence on the other side of the bed, “What in Seven Hells is he doing here? Guards!”

“No!” you stopped her, “I-I want him here. He...Seven Hells...He needs to be here. Please, M-Mother.”

She nodded hesitantly as she stroked back your hair, “Alright, Y/N.”

“Push, Princess,” one of the midwives encouraged, “Push!”

“AAAGHHHH! FUCK! AHHHHH!” you screamed, pushing with all your might.

Hours and hours seemed to pass and still, your baby was not here. Sweat dripped from your skin as you tiredly clung to Aemond and your mother.

“I-I can’t,” you whimpered, “I’m...exhausted.”

“The child is close, Princess,” the Maester reassured you, “Just a few more-”

“I cannot!” you exclaimed, panting as your head lolled over to Aemond, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head fervently, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I do, A-Aemond. I could not be the wife you needed. I can’t even birth our child. I-It’s no wonder you will be taking a new bride.”

“You are doing what?” your mother glared at him, “Do you truly think you could just make a fool of my daughter? Of your child? Of our family? I could have your head-”

“Your Grace,” he stopped her, “I have no intention of annulling my marriage to your daughter or make a fool of anyone of you especially not Y/N or my child.”

“B-But you told me that...”

“I told you that my brother’s council desires this. I do not desire being married to anyone but you, my love.” he corrected, “Iksā ñuhon hae iksan aōhon.” You are mine as I am yours.

Aemond pressed his forehead to your damp one, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.

“Avy jorrāelan,” I love you. “Now, push. Our child is nearly with us.”

You nodded as you took in a deep breath before resuming your labours. Your nails dug into both your mother and Aemond as you pushed. A sudden relief overcame you as the soft cries of your newborn filled the air.

“A girl,” one of the midwives announced, “As healthy as can be. Praise the Mother!”

Smiles filled the room as they handed the infant to you, “Y-You’re so beautiful,” you cried. But before you could truly enjoy the moment, there was some sort of pressure from between your legs. You assumed it was the afterbirth as you pushed again.

“There is another babe,” the Maester frantically answered as he resumed his work.

“Another b- AHHHHH!” a final scream before those soft whimpers filled the room once again.

“This one’s a boy, Princess,” the midwife smiled, “Just as healthy.”

They handed Aemond the squalling baby boy, “Seven Hells.”

Your mother kissed your forehead, “Well done, sweet girl. They’re beautiful.”

You sighed contently, “Mother, I have something to ask you.”

“Anything,” she smiled.

“I think I want to name her Visenya.”

Tears fell from her eyes, “It is wonderful. Just wonderful,” she sniffled, “And for the boy?”

“Viserys,” you answered, “After Grandsire.”

“My dearest girl,” she sniffled, wiping her tears as she stood from the bed.

“What do you think?” Aemond had hardly pulled his gaze from your children.

He let out a content sigh, “They are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Absolutely perfect.”

And that’s what that entire moment should have been. Absolutely perfect.

Your mother had rejoined your side, Daemon accompanying her this time, “I’m sorry but I must insist that Prince Aemond is removed from these chambers and brought to the cells to await proper questioning.”

“Mother, please,” you begged as the midwife took your son from Aemond while Daemon went to seize him, “Daemon, no!”

“I warned you, Y/N,” Daemon spoke, “This is how it has to be.”

“No, it is not,” Aemond finally cut in.

“You betrayed your Queen,” Daemon scoffed, “You committed treason. And now you must pay-”

Aemond fell to one knee, pulling his sword and raising it towards your mother, “I pledge my sword and my allegiance to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” He stood again, sheathing his sword, “I love your daughter, Your Grace. And if bending the knee is all it takes to prove my loyalty to her, then I will do it. And whatever else I must to ensure that I never risk losing her again.”

You bit back tears as you rocked your children. All eyes fell to your mother for the final decision, “Very well. Prince Aemond Targaryen, you are hereby the sworn protector of Princess Y/N Velaryon as well as her children Princess Visenya Targaryen and Prince Viserys Targaryen, and any future heirs she may bear. By order of your Queen.”

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hd-junglebook · 3 days

Text

"Hey Sugar"

-said with rizz

Luke Hughes x F!Reader, Trevor Zegras x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist Link

a:n Now we're delving into some of the drama. I have so much planned for Luke, so I hope everyone's excited. I will be posting a little 'announcement' later today to see what work you want from me next.

Warnings: throuple jumpscare, flirting, maybe cursing, suggestive flirting, nausea/vomiting, arguing

Summary: Luke's brother Jack arrives with friends, and a misunderstanding about you and Luke being engaged unsettles you. You long for Luke to clarify the situation, but he doesn't. When Luke suggests slipping away together for a bit, you're torn between giving in to your desire for him or protecting your peace.

Word Count - 3774

Part 3

Two agonizing days had passed since the disastrous dinner, and the volatility raging through your system showed no signs of abating. If anything, the jarring mood swings and bouts of nausea seemed to intensify with each lurching hour.

One moment, you'd be curled in a tight, miserable ball on Luke's rumpled sheets - stomach cramping viciously as you fought back waves of queasiness. The next, an irrational spike of anger would crest within you, bitter resentments and grievances spilling forth in a blistering torrent aimed at anyone within blast radius.

Poor Luke had borne the brunt of your mercurial temper more than once over the past couple days. You still cringed inwardly at the snippets of venom that replayed through your mind...the unfair accusations and white-hot outbursts detonated at even his mildest gestures of concern.

Yet, despite the vitriolic lashings, the man remained a stalwart presence at your side - steadfast and seemingly undaunted in the face of your hormonal cyclone. As if determined to simply weather the tumult until it passed, Luke took each scorching barb with stoic poise before eventually gathering you into the protective circle of his powerful arms.

It was there, cocooned in his solid warmth with his soothing baritone rumbling through your quaking frame, that you found fleeting moments of reprieve from the flames. Until, inevitably, the fires would rage anew - sparking from some unknowable origin deep within you.

This morning appeared to be no exception as the first fingers of dawn spilled buttery light across Luke's titanium sheets. You squinted against the pale glow filtering through the parted blinds, feeling that telltale cramp already blossoming in your lower belly. A low moan slipped unbidden past your lips as you instinctively curled into a tighter ball, dreading the hell to come.

In the periphery of your vision, Luke's massive frame shifted almost imperceptibly - the steady rise and fall of his sculpted torso indicating he still clung to the final wisps of slumber. A rueful smile tugged at your lips as you watched the slight furrow materializing between his brows, no doubt registering your fitful stirrings on a subconscious level.

Sure enough, those ridiculously thick lashes began to flutter in the next breath.

You tensed in anticipation as Luke's searing browns slowly blinked into awareness, searching your side of the bed with instinctual concern. When his hooded gaze finally landed on your hunched form, his features contorted into an achingly tender look of understanding.

"Hey..." The graveled endearment was little more than a whisper as Luke shifted onto his side to fully face you. "Another rough one, huh?"

You could only nod tightly, jaw clenched against the impending cramp as you focused on his beloved face. Luke regarded you with those piercing brown pools for a weighty moment, seeming to assess if reassurances or remonstrations would be required for this particular flare-up. When your expression remained pinched with stoic endurance, he simply sighed and extended one arm in mute invitation.

The profound relief that blossomed in your chest was instantaneous and overwhelming. Without a second thought, you surged into the solid warmth of Luke's bare torso - shamelessly seeking the grounding familiarity of his scorching skin against yours.

He didn't hesitate to accommodate, muscles flexing fluidly as he secured you against the powerful cage of his chest. You sagged gratefully into the protective cradle of his unyielding frame, drawing solace from the reassuring lub-dub of Luke's heart reverberating against your cheek.

Potent arms like towers of steel encircled you, one corded forearm cushioning the tender dip of your waist while the other smoothed over the rigid line of your shoulders in broad sweeps.

As always, Luke lent his steadfast strength without reservation or expectation - merely offering the uncompromising bastion of his body to weather your internal squalls.

You focused on the smoldering brand of his touch, allowing the cadence of Luke's respiration and the exquisite familiarity of his clean, male musk to sweep you under like a balmy riptide.

There would be time later for confusion, for interrogation over these distressing symptoms plaguing both body and spirit. For now, surrendering to the sanctuary of this man's healing embrace was the only sensible form of self-preservation.

…

Two hours had passed, and you felt it was time to get up. You walked around the room, gathering your clothes scattered haphazardly across the floor. Luke's rich baritone reached you from the rumpled bed. "Where you goin', gorgeous?"

Pausing, you shot him a glance over one shoulder, taking in his tousled bedhead and sleep-swollen features. "I'm gonna go talk to Jess. I'm tired of rotting up here, you know?"

Luke regarded you steadily for a beat before giving a slight nod, seemingly accepting your need to rejoin the world beyond these four walls.

"Don't take too long to come down, okay?"

The gentle plea beneath your somber tone wasn't lost on him. It caused a small, reassuring curl to unfurl in your chest as you offered a tight smile.

"I won't."

Then you were shouldering out of the bedroom, pulling on clothes with clumsy motions as you made your way down the hall. The hushed cadence of voices soon reached your ears, and you followed the murmurs into the open living room area - freezing at the scene playing out before you.

In one corner, Jessica and Maggy were engaged in what looked to be a heated exchange - their body language taut and confrontational as they traded heated whispers. You watched with a growing frown as Maggy gestured emphatically, clearly trying to make a point.

"I don't know how you expect this to work out, Jess," she hissed, slicing one hand through the air. "We both like him. He's either gonna choose one of us with your stupid ultimatum, or we can both be happy!"

Jessica scoffed loudly at that, tossing her silk tresses as her eyes flashed with indignation. "Don't give me that 'we can all be happy' bullshit, Mags! Trevor deserves more than being passed back and forth."

As their heated words escalated, you realized with a jolt that the object of their dispute was conspicuously absent. Scanning the cavernous living area revealed no sign of Trevor anywhere in the fallout radius of their confrontation.

It wasn't until you turned again that you finally spotted him - a hunched, dejected figure tucked in the far corner beside the hearth. His hulking frame seemed to radiate naked defeat as Jessica and Maggy's scathing tirades washed over him.

The swell of pity and protectiveness that bloomed in your chest was visceral. How could any of you have let things deteriorate to this point? Trevor was the kindest, most tender-hearted soul you knew. He didn't deserve to be torn asunder by your dysfunctional dynamic.

You took an instinctive step towards him, intent on extracting him from this torture. But before you could cross the distance, Trevor lifted his gaze to yours - and the breath punched from your lungs in a soundless gasp.

Glittering tear tracks shone down both whiskered cheeks, those warm hazel eyes glimmering with a devastation so profound it pierced straight through to your soul. For the span of a haunting, eternal moment, you held that hollowed stare...letting its harrowing anguish sear into your very marrow.

Then, as quickly as the connection had materialized, it was severed. Trevor blinked and rose unsteadily, turning to make his silent escape out the back entrance as Jessica and Maggy's shouts reached a fever pitch around him.

You could only watch, stunned and horrifically impacted, as he slipped away - your mind reeling from the truth that revelation had shored into aching focus. This was the insidious danger of your tangled web, of prioritizing passion over genuinely healthy bonds...

…

Luke bounded down the stairs at the sound of arriving cars, his heavy footfalls reverberating with unbridled energy. You watched from the entryway as not one, not two, but three vehicles came to a rumbling stop outside the lake house, kicking up plumes of dust in their wake.

Your brows hiked skyward as you registered the unexpected numbers, though Luke didn't seem the least bit fazed. If anything, his features were split by a wolfish grin of anticipation as he reached the front door in a few powerful strides.

"That'll be my brother and the rest of those delinquents," he supplied by way of explanation, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he brushed past.

You could only nod mutely, trailing after him as Luke flung the door open with gusto. A chorus of raucous hoots and hollers immediately assailed you, accompanying the cacophony of car doors slamming and heavy footsteps crunching up the gravel drive.

At the head of the boisterous pack was a towering, broad-shouldered figure that could have been Luke's doppelganger were it not for the closely-shorn chestnut hair and thick mustache framing his full lips. This man - undoubtedly Luke's older brother - wore an equally shit-eating grin as he bounded up onto the porch, thick arms already outstretched.

"Bout damn time you got here, dipshit!" Luke crowed with unbridled affection, not even bothering to dodge the crushing embrace that sent them both rocking back on their heels.

The two titans of men crashed together with the force of linebackers, deep laughs rumbling through their powerful frames as they jockeyed for supremacy. You couldn't help but hover in the open doorway, temporarily dumbstruck by the sheer unvarnished joy radiating from their reunion.

"Hey, watch the shoulder, asshole!" the brother growled out between peals of laughter, giving Luke's trapezius a playful shove. "Just had that shit rehabbed!"

Luke simply cackled louder at that, ruffling the cropped bristles atop his sibling's head with unrestrained glee. "Don't be such a bitch, Jacky. Maybe if you toughened up, you wouldn't keep getting hurt."

The snide remark earned Luke a solid jab to the ribs, causing him to let out an undignified wheezing grunt. But the brilliant smile never faltered, only stretching wider as he hauled his brother into another fierce hug - this one softer, more lingering.

"Missed you, man," you heard Luke's deep bass rumble against the solid plane of Jack's shoulder.

The tender endearment, mumbled as it was, still managed to strafe your heart with a piercing ache of...something. You blinked rapidly, struggling to process the sudden upwelling of emotion clogging your throat as you watched them embrace.

What was happening? This was hardly the first time you'd witnessed a brotherly reunion between Luke and Jack. Hell, the two had been practically inseparable growing up, despite the five-year gap in their ages. You'd lost count of how many rowdy homecomings and holidays you'd shared in their boisterous presence over the years.

So why did this particular moment feel so viscerally charged? Why were your eyes prickling traitorously as you drank in the simple scene of contented intimacy? It made absolutely no sense, and yet you couldn't seem to halt the swell of sentiment cresting within your thundering chest.

Luke must have sensed your roiling inner turmoil because he suddenly disengaged from their clinch, turning to face you with a softened expression. Those searing brown eyes found yours over the solid mass of Jack's shoulder, glowing with naked tenderness that momentarily stole the very breath from your lungs.

"Y/N..." he rumbled, somehow managing to imbue your name with gratifying weight. "You know my knucklehead brother, Jack."

The gentle prompt snapped you from your fugue, forcing you to blink rapidly as you refocused on the newcomers scattered across the front yard. Jack had spun towards you now, those craggy features arranged into a rakish grin that could have been lifted straight from Luke's playbook.

"Well, well...if it ain't my future sister," he all but purred, sweeping you up into an enthusiastic bear hug before you could protest.

You instantly found yourself engulfed in sinewy muscle and subtle cedar musk - not entirely unpleasant save for the way it constricted your ribcage. Still, you managed an awkward sort of half-laugh, giving the man's broad back a few consoling pats.

"Nice to see you too, Jack. Take it easy there, I need these bones."

The teasing only earned you a full-bellied guffaw as Jack finally relented, carefully extricating you from his vice-like embrace. His eyes - a slightly paler, more aquamarine shade than Luke's midnight browns - crinkled with unrestrained warmth as he regarded you.

"She's a goddamn knockout and she can hang? No wonder you finally stopped fuckin' around and put a ring on it!"

The vulgar observation, accompanied by a roguish wink, instantly resurfaced the blooming mirth in your chest like a lead weight. Suddenly, the giddy elation of witnessing their reunion had evaporated - leaving only an unmistakable hollowness in its wake.

Luckily, the moment of visceral emptiness was fleeting. Luke quickly crowded in beside you, snaking one long arm around your waist in a infinitely more welcome embrace. His palm settled low on your hip, radiating delicious warmth even through the thin cotton barrier.

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Jackass," he admonished lightly, those smoldering browns finding yours once more with weighted intention. "There's still time for her to call the whole thing off if you keep running that mouth."

Jack simply scoffed at the empty threat, already turning back towards the cluster of cars where the rest of his companions were beginning to emerge. "Whatever you gotta tell yourself to sleep at night, baby bro!"

Though the flippant retort rankled you momentarily, you couldn't find it in yourself to properly bristle at Jack's outrageousness. Not when Luke was nuzzling his prickly jaw against the sensitive curve where your neck met shoulder, blissfully impervious to his brother's antics.

…

The raucous celebratory energy suffusing the lake house should have been infectious, intoxicating even. Jack and his misfit band of cohorts had effortlessly slotted into the group dynamic, their arrival sparking an instantaneous resurgence of riotous laughter and shamelessly off-color anecdotes.

Yet you remained closed off from it all, a mere bystander watching the raucous bonhomie unfurl at your periphery. No matter how many times Maggy looped an arm through yours with a conspiratorial wink, or Jessica pressed a fresh drink into your hand, you couldn't quite shake the leaden emptiness seizing your chest.

It was a persistent, gnawing ache - as if someone had nestled a lead brick between your ribs, slowly constricting your lungs until each inhalation was a monumental feat. You'd never felt so profoundly untethered from yourself, from the steadying anchors that typically kept you grounded.

Worst of all were the furtive glances you kept stealing towards Luke, desperately hoping to lose yourself in the contented glority of his smile...only to have Jack's parting quip ricochet through your skull like shrapnel.

Over and over, you replayed the crude insinuation in your mind's eye, feeling that spiderweb crack in your temporarily invulnerable facade each time. Why hadn't Luke corrected his brother's assumption about your relationship status? Sure, putting a defined label on the passion between you was unimportant in the grand scheme.

But the fact remained - you weren't Luke's fiancée, and the very notion that he'd allow someone to believe otherwise disquieted you in ways you couldn't fully articulate. It felt dishonest somehow, a falsehood woven into the rich tapestry of your lives that didn't belong.

So you lingered in the periphery, watching the party swirl around you in roiling eddies of boisterous camaraderie. Luke, ever the epicenter of the chaos, ricocheted between boisterous debate with Jack and sotto voce flirtations whenever you drifted within arm's reach.

Each time, you found yourself silently imploring him to bring up the innocuous comment, to casually clarify with that easy cadence of his that you were simply...complicated. That labels and conventions meant little in the face of your profound bond.

But the words never materialized, and you were left suspended in tangible torment - questioning everything and nothing all at once as the night raged on around you.

It was well after midnight when Maggy plopped down beside you on the sagging sofa, knocking your shoulder playfully as she sank into the buttery leather with a contented sigh. You barely registered her arrival, too consumed by the bitter chorus in your head.

"I'm sorry you had to see that earlier," she murmured after a contemplative pause, drawing your vacant stare instinctively. "We...Jessica, Trevor, and I...we decided it's best if we're just together. All three of us. It makes us happy, you know?"

The gentle confession, layered with audible reticence, had your brows hiking towards your hairline in a silent question. Maggy caught the wordless probe and flashed you a rueful half-smile, clearly interpreting your confusion.

"The arguing, the jealousy bullshit...it's just not worth it," she elaborated with a philosophical shrug of those curvaceous shoulders. "We're happiest when we're completely open and honest with each other - no holding back. Even if it means breaking some stupid societal norms along the way."

You felt your lips part, a thousand queries marshaling on your tongue as you processed Maggy's candid revelation. But in the end, the only response to materialize was a low, ragged exhalation - somewhere between a snort and a rueful chuckle.

Because in that endless night, with an internal war raging inside your shattered breast...you'd never felt more adrift and utterly rudderless than in the presence of their blazing certainty.

There was a tangible rightness to the path these beautiful souls had carved for themselves - a fearless adherence to the truth that burned within, regardless of proverbial norms or expectations. A level of uncompromising vulnerability that you could scarcely fathom in your current state.

It was transcendent and horribly enviable all at once...and it scorched you from the inside out.

"I...wow," you eventually managed in a papery tone, giving Maggy's slender fingers a reflexive squeeze. "That's...amazing, Mags. I'm really happy for you guys, and proud of the courage it took to get there."

Maggy's incandescent smile could have powered a small city as she angled herself towards you fully. "Thanks, babe. That means everything coming from you."

She bumped your shoulder playfully, as if to ease some of the heaviness between you. But nothing could alleviate the maddening ache spiderwebbing through your marrow - that hollowness that threatened to devour you from within.

From across the room, you watched Luke throw back his head in a rich peal of laughter at something Jack had said, jaw clenched and eyes crinkled in genuine merriment. Something fragile in your chest simultaneously blossomed with tenderness...and withered into stark disrepair.

…

A tranquil hush had descended over the lake house, the typical raucous energy giving way to contented quietude as the night crept deeper. Outside, the inky blackness was softened by a shimmering blanket of stars reflecting off the glassy waters, casting everything in an ethereal glow.

You shifted drowsily on the plush leather sofa, savoring the remaining tendrils of warmth radiating from Luke's solid frame where he was nestled against your side. His arm was looped securely around your waist, palm splaying possessively over the slight curve of your hip.

For a few languorous moments, your mind pleasantly drifted - lulled by the steady cadence of Luke's breathing and the occasional chorus of night birds trilling outside. He always ran several degrees warmer than you, his potent furnace of a body suffusing you with delicious heat.

You had nearly succumbed to a light doze when the low rumble of Luke's voice reverberated against the back of your neck, sending a shiver rippling down your spine.

"I planned a really special night for us, y/n." His midnight timbre was velveteen and hushed, thrumming with an undercurrent of anticipation.

You stirred groggily, twisting in the haven of his embrace until you could regard him properly. Luke's striking features were gilded in the pale moonglow filtering through the windows, casting his chiseled jawline and proud nose in stark relief. But it was his eyes - those blazing, all-consuming pools - that arrested your full attention.

They fairly smoldered with unnamed intensity, holding your drowsy stare hostage as one corner of those obscenely full lips quirked upwards.

"For what?" The words were slightly graveled from impending slumber as you blinked owlishly.

Luke's smile deepened into something richer and infinitely more weighted as he began tracing lazy, spiraling patterns along the soft skin of your thigh.

Each meandering caress of his calloused fingertips seemed to sear straight through the thin barrier of cotton separating you, raising delicious gooseflesh in their wake.

"I just want to do something for you," he rumbled in that sinful rasp, holding your molten stare unblinkingly. "It's...a surprise."

You felt your breath stall in your lungs at the heated promise that single word seemed to ignite. A surprise from Luke invariably meant some grand romantic gesture - extravagant and shamelessly indulgent in a way that never failed to overwhelm you.

Luke must have registered the momentary paralysis in your features because he leaned in fractionally closer, close enough for you to drink in the rich amber and cedar notes of his cologne. His palm drifted higher, finally coming to rest low on your abdomen as those blazing browns searched your face with undisguised intensity.

"This one won't be like the others, y/n," he murmured, the graveled lilt seeming to caress every syllable of your name. "This is going to be really...really special. For you. For us."

The naked sincerity, the profoundity behind those quietly uttered words...it stole the very air from your lungs in a sharp exhalation of pure wonderment.

Every nerve ending in your body seemed to blaze into awakeness, zeroing in on the scorching brand of Luke's touch as it meandered across your tingling skin.

You could only gape at him mutely through the rushof feeling, overwhelmed by the searing tenderness flowing between you in dizzying riptides.

Luke was many things in these moments - playful, irreverent, smoldering with the promise of white-hot passion. But above all else, he was steadfast - grounding you in the unshakable truth of just how treasured you were to him.

"Where?" you eventually rasped out once you'd recovered enough to form words. Moisture stung at the corners of your eyes as you held his blazing stare, everything inside of you seeming to crystallize into this single suspended heartbeat.

An achingly gentle smile curved those beloved lips as Luke reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, callused knuckles grazing your fevered cheek in a scorching caress.

"I want to take you somewhere we can be alone for a little while. Just you and me under the stars. After we get home to Jersey, a night for just us, Y/N."

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