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unicorncornflakes · 9 months

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Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 13

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Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at him. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasyjournal @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond @imaloserbby @youngcomputerpuppy @aemondsfavouritebastard @cloudroomblog @queenofshinigamis @bluevxnus @wooya1224 @serving-targaryen-realness @darkenchantress @padfooteyes @mariannnavao @moonlightfoxx @jennifer0305 @ammo23 @iloveallmyboys @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @okfashionista @shelbyteller @dahlias-and-marigolds @the-knights-of-ne @bellaisasleep

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome! And sorry for the delay theses weeks, I will try to be faster in next chapters.

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader, for all the patience and the love that always shows for my writing. Thank you so much for all the time that you spend with this. Thank you so much. i really aprreciate it :D

Word Count: 7.4K

“I know you don't want to see me, but could you at least take my call? We need to talk about what happened.' You deleted the message again almost automatically. Cregan had texted you almost every day that week and had called you at least five times. It wasn't like the harassment of a jealous or insistent boyfriend but more like the calls for attention from a man worried about you. You turned off the phone screen while having breakfast with your grandmother and Aemond on that Saturday morning.

You sighed in defeat, and Aemond looked over the top of the newspaper, wanting to know what was wrong with you. Alicent went on to talk about the benefit gala she did every year to raise money for the Faith of the Seven. It would be that night, and it would also coincide with being the first year that you would attend.

It was a gala dinner where the most influential personalities from all over Westeros gathered because Aemond brought them there simply to make his mother happy once a year. It would be your first time attending because you were already of legal age. Before, the agreement your parents had signed prevented any public exposure you might have. They both wanted to protect you from belonging to two of the most influential families in the seven kingdoms, but now it was different.

Aemond insisted that you would have to start participating in the few public events in which he also participated. While your father was making a weekly cover of the gossip magazines, the rest of the Targaryen brothers kept a discreet distance in the background. Understated, but not non-existent, and that was Aemond's idea for you; let the world know that you were a dragon, with the importance and responsibility that it entailed, but that you would not lose yourself in the world of luxury and pleasures in which Aegon seemed to be immersed.

The phone rang one last time, and you picked it up, annoyed. You ran your finger across the screen, ignoring the last notification of what you knew would be the only call Cregan would attempt that day, or so you thought and took a small sip of your coffee. Aemond raised an eyebrow. He knew you were hiding something from him, but making a scene in front of his mother wouldn't help you hide something you thought was too obvious, but no one seemed to notice.

"This year, I have put more desserts on the menu", your grandmother smiled at you, bringing you back to reality. "A very good selection. I know how much you like desserts," she explained sweetly and sympathetically. Your grandmother had always been quite lax with you, removing the prefects of faith, but after your birthday and what had happened, she seemed even sweeter, as if she didn't want to offend you in anything and to please you in everything. From what Aemond had told you, it was quite similar to the attitude she had taken towards him when he lost his eye.

"Thank you, Grandma." You smiled shyly at her, and Aemond smirked. The truth was that you had become even more aware of the strong bond that united Alicent and Aemond, and it seemed that the new status of your nameless relationship with him made things change between you and your grandmother. She wasn't just your grandmother anymore, at least from Aemond's perspective. On the other hand, her gesture touched you, but desserts had ceased to fascinate you since you had turned seven years old. "Who's going to the gala?" you asked curiously, not wanting to show your concern about meeting Cregan there. You couldn't face it, at least not at the time. It wasn't a question of love but because Cregan had been good to you and that, in the end, you had disappeared from his life without a trace. You were ashamed of your behaviour, but you were even more ashamed of the fact that you had changed him so quickly for the one you truly loved.

"Anyone who can afford it," Aemond replied, closing the newspaper. "The 300 kindest people in all of Westeros, but this is according to your grandmother," he chuckled, playing a joke on his mother that she reluctantly scolded, slapping her son on the arm. Alicent didn't know what was wrong with her son, but lately, he seemed happier, more cheerful, more human. Aemond had always been rigid in his convictions and behaviour. However, in recent weeks he had a behaviour similar to being in love. Your grandmother had no idea what this meant, but she was just happy for her son. She believed that he was seeing someone and that sooner or later one of her children, whom she thought would always remain sad, would give her grandchildren. Alicent had no idea how little of this happiness was left for her son, but at that breakfast, she thought that everything would be fine in the life of the most battered of her children.

"They are very important people, of that we can be sure," your grandmother smiled radiantly. She was about to start talking about her project again when your phone vibrated on the table again. Cregan was being really insistent that morning, perhaps because you suspected that he would also be attending this famous event, and he wanted to spare you the embarrassment and discomfort of meeting each other after you had ignored him, if only for your sake and Aemond's. You were beginning to see how jealous he could get over almost anything. He thought he hid it well under hisserious facade, but you were beginning to know the way he clenched his jaw, which seemed to break the teeth and bones that made it up.

"Why don't you take it?" Aemond tried to sound casual but failed in his attempt. You knew that he only demanded to know who it was, who called you so urgently on a Saturday morning. You saw him take a cigarette out of a fresh pack that he just opened at that moment. He brought it to his lips without losing sight of you, but you didn't look at him. You didn't want to talk to him about how Cregan was calling you to fix things. The old wolf was simply saying that he needed to talk to you. You heard the Zippo click and how he took a puff and then quickly blew smoke out of his nose.

"It's nothing important," you told him as you tried to continue eating breakfast. You picked up a piece of fruit and began to peel it in silence under the watchful eye of Aemond, who knew you were lying. However, this time it was not jealousy. It was just a worry that had been on his mind lately more than he wanted to admit: You didn't trust him. Or at least not to tell him everything that happened to you. It seemed as if there was some kind of barrier between you that you had built up in a way of protecting you both. For Aemond, it was beginning to be a concern. Where was all this leading you if you couldn't trust him?

"Good morning", your father appeared just then, stretching and with a tired face as he took his seat next to you at that garden table. At least he had managed to break the tension that had existed up to that moment and of which, as always, your grandmother seemed unaware. Your father ruffled your hair again, and you smiled at him. It was one of those things he should have done when you were little, but at least tried now. That was the only consolation you found. "Don't eat fruit for breakfast. That is only done if you are sick," he joked as he took a Croissant, and you laughed. Aemond looked at the two of you disapprovingly.

"Are you going to go to the gala with that face?" Aemond spoke unlovingly to his older brother, taking another drag, nearly draining the cigarette to the end. Aegon always managed to get under his skin. However, it was his brother. He had to protect him. He should always protect his family.

"It's my usual face," your father replied as he poured himself coffee under Aemond's watchful eye. That one-eyed look that always disapproved of him. His younger brother looked at him disapprovingly, having almost forgotten you at once.

"It's your face from having been partying days in a row", Aemond said as he stubbed out his cigarette, ready to scold Aegon, as always. You had rarely seen it because the three of you had met a few times in time and space together, but you were beginning to realize that it was a bit of a regular occurrence.

"Well, that's the same thing. My usual face." Your father shrugged and dunked the croissant into his coffee, ready to ignore his brother. He winked at you, and at that moment, your phone rang again. Aegon cheekily stared at your phone screen. What neither your grandmother nor Aemond dared to do, your father did shamelessly and was simply angry. "What is Cregan doing calling you?" he asked you, visibly angry. You did not answer, knowing that not telling him would anger Aemond.

"That man doesn't seem to understand endings", your grandmother spoke, worried about you. Everyone fell silent afterwards as the phone rang. Aemond's jaw clenched as if he was going to break it, and your grandmother gave you a worried look. However, it was Aegon who crossed all the lines of your privacy. After all, your father thought that Cregan was ultimately responsible for that anxiety attack that had landed you in the hospital.

"Fuck", your father picked up the phone. You tried to stop him almost desperately, but he simply took the cell phone and picked it up in an aggressive way, grinding his teeth and losing his mind for the simple fact that his puppy was suffering. Aegon was not violent. That attitude involved too much work, and he was not used to work. But, he was just starting to freak out lately under a desire to keep you safe and happy. That was all that mattered to him. He brought the phone to his ear, under the watchful eye of Aemond, who leaned back in his chair to watch the spectacle. “Listen to me well, old wolf. I want you to leave her alone,” you heard Cregan yell on the other end of the line.

"Dad, give me back the phone", you yelled at him as you followed him around the garden after he got up. You didn't want to put on any show. It wasn't your style or your ways, but it was partly your father's. Aegon, at that moment, only cared about you.

"If you don't stop calling her, believe me, there will be consequences, and I think you know very well what kind of consequences there are when you mess with dragons." You saw him sigh heavily as you tried to take his mobile while you chased him through the garden, where he was pacing nervously, trying to avoid you. Hewas going to protect you. He would do it like he hadn't in 17 years.

"Dad, please", you yelled at him again, but then you felt a hand grab you and pull you away from your father. You saw Aemond walk up to his older brother and take the phone away from him while yelling a thousand expletives at Cregan. After all, Aemond was stronger and taller than your father.

"You're an asshole.” your uncle spat on your father. At first, it had been fun to watch. "What the hell are you threatening him for? We can send whoever you want, but don't threaten him, okay? Don't even think of doing it again," he told him as he handed back your mobile. Now he was worried about what could happen. He could send a thousand guys to beat up Cregan, but he couldn't do what your father had done: yell it out in front of everyone through a phone that might be recording. He couldn't afford to be associated with acts of violence like that. Not him, not his family, or they would have problems.

“He said he had to talk to her. I won't have it after what happened,” your father yelled, now turning his anger on Aemond.

"Alright. I don't want him to talk to her either, but let me handle it." Aemond took your father by the arm and whispered in his ear. Aegon just nodded his head, and your uncle's face grew grim. You ran to talk to Aemond. You didn't want anything to happen to Cregan because you knew that nothing that happened to you was his fault. It had only been a determinant, not a cause. However, your grandmother arrived first.

"Don't even think about doing anything. I know you too well. Both of you.” Aegon ran a hand over his face in despair, but Aemond ignored her.

"Hmmm", was all he sighed as he sauntered past you. You had never seen that side of your family, but it was something that scared you. You didn't feel comfortable, and you really began to fear what might happen to Cregan, just as you saw Aemond walk away to make a call that you never knew the content of. Alicent looked worriedly at her son. He had always been protective of you, and that was already too much.

Lya had always liked flashes, cameras and glamour. Those three elements had undoubtedly been determining factors in opting for that stable relationship with your uncle Daeron. The lawyer had remained for a couple of photos with his girlfriend at the entrance to the Hightower Hotel where the gala that took so much effort and time for your grandmother was held, but finally, he had let her enjoy having a little fame for herself.

Since Lya was only known for being the 'girlfriend of…' However, she didn't care. She enjoyed it equally and would enjoy it even more after Daeron proposed to her. It shouldn't have been that long. She had endured the unspeakable among the Targaryens, and at the very least, her reward had to be a proper marriage. Something that would give her a status similar to Alicent's in that family. But, Lya was not Alicent and never would be. Daeron Targaryen's young girlfriend enjoyed the last moment in which the photographers claimed her attention. At that precise moment, Aemond Targaryen and his brother made an appearance, getting out of the main family car. Alicent got out of the car with difficulty, helped by the eldest of her children, and behind her, you appeared.

A red and black velvet gown had been your choice for that night, or rather Aemond's. He held you by the waist as you got out of the car, and in a protective gesture, he took you inside the building, holding you tight, while the attention of the photographers was torn between taking a picture of your figure that your uncle would not let go of or your father with your grandmother, who did stay at the doors of the building to the delight of many photographers.

Aemond wanted you to participate in public life, not expose yourself, and you wouldn't have been comfortable with it either, but that paternal gesture from the man who was now your lover left you cold. What would anyone think of the way he had grabbed you? Well-dressed and in keeping with the moment, he ignored you as he entered the building. Now was the time to save face, though the long, silent look he gave you as you walked away from him said it all. It was the look of a man in love, and Lya could only narrow her eyes at that spectacle. What was between you and Aemond was not normal, and Lya, she could only suspect. Daeron gently took her hand as she entered the building, but the young Stark couldn't get the thought out of her head. She had seen how Aemond held you and looked at you. She did remember what had happened between Daemon and Rhaenyra, and she couldn't ignore that you two seemed too similar. Was the rest of the Targaryens blind?

After all day alone in the family home, you found yourself even more alone at that party. You saw your Aunt Helaena and her husband, Jace, dance together in the crowd. Your father was already missing, and your grandmother was chatting with one of her pious friends. You saw Lya and Daeron equally dance together after dinner, which had been tedious and almost unbearable. To be fair, you hadn't seen Lya since that night at the smallest of the Velaryon's clubs on your father's express orders. But, at that party and after such a long time, her presence continued to bother you. You would never feel comfortable with her again. Not after her friends had aired how she saw you.

You sighed, bored, and Aemond looked at you sideways, sitting next to you at the same table where you had eaten. He smiled when he saw you slip into your seat with your arms crossed. So pretty and, at the same time, so careless. He would have loved to have ushered you into one of the upstairs rooms right then, but he was content to see you like this while one of the main investors continued to discuss numbers and figures with Aemond. Without a doubt, this was a party for everyone. Except for you.

"I'll tell Alys to send you the closing of the quarterly", Aemond commented while that man continued chattering while the face of his wife, also sitting next to him, was quite similar to yours. However, it seemed to activate the moment your uncle spoke the name of his secretary.

"Oh, speaking of Alys, I miss her at this gala", the man's wife commented with a sarcastic giggle as she scanned you up and down. You tensed. You never expected that no one would give you such an accusing and cheeky look like that in that place "... but I see that you have changed it for a younger model, right?" That woman with the pearl necklace and ancient hairstyle lashed out again, and her husband told her reprimanded her while she looked away, embarrassed. Aemond didn't even look at you, now concentrating on glaring at that woman with his one eye, but the damage was already done. A younger model? Is that how they saw you at that party? That was a hard blow to reality. Perhaps you weren't being as discreet as Aemond expected, and you saw Lya look at you and smile as she was now whispering to one of her friends. And you started to feel bad. The world was spinning.

"I have to go to the bathroom," was all you said. You needed to cool off. You needed to get out of there while you felt in an almost paranoid way how everyone was looking at you at that party. What was happening to the world?

"She is my niece. Not a fucking prostitute." Aemond spoke just as you left, and that woman paled while her husband could barely swallow. Now they were in your uncle's crosshairs, and the man knew that he would not deal with dragons again. Much to his regret. All because of his wife's big mouth and her way of pointing out subtleties that weren't as subtle as the great Aemond Targaryen believed and his family of dragons refused to see.

You got your neck and chest slightly wet. Not the face. That would be spoiling the makeup that they had put on you in that very expensive beauty salon that your uncle had paid for. The red lips in the tone that he himself had chosen, you looked overwhelmed. You needed to get out of there. You began to believe in the words that your mother had always said and in her refusal to attend that party.

Also, you were beginning to believe that everyone was looking at you as if everyone suspected what was happening between you and Aemond, but you were discreet, right? Definitely yes. Never a major gesture in public. Never. So much sacrifice. Only, he had taken you by the waist in a protective gesture, and the way he looked at you said much more than any of his gestures.

You sighed slowly as if you were trying to regulate your agitated breathing, your anxiety. You saw yourself in front of that mirror in that lonely bathroom. The focus of attention was on you. You needed to get back to Aemond's side, not worry him and tell him that you wanted to go home. Make love in your room. Normalize what you felt for each other. No more secrets. Shout it out if necessary. But you knew you couldn't. So you were content with wanting to return only to his side. You left the bathroom for it after taking a deep breath and steeling yourself to face that crowded room.

"You look spectacular", you heard a familiar voice just behind you. You turned, and there he was, the man you'd been trying to ignore all week. Cregan has his hands in his pants pockets, dressed in a suit befitting the occasion like everyone else. He smiled sadly at you, and you almost blanched. He was well groomed, yet his eyes showed a lack of sleep. Two large dark circles under his eye sockets were proof that Cregan Stark, the old wolf of Winterfell, had been almost without sleep since he had returned to the capital.

"Thank you," was all you answered, looking away from him but unable to move from the spot. A small part of you told you that you should have taken some of his calls, answered some text, stood there and let him put his arms around you, but you were in love with Aemond.

Cregan was nothing to you anymore if he ever was. Cregan was the right choice. It always would be, but not always, the right choices are the ones we want to make. "I have to go," was all you could think of to say, almost scared to have found him. That simple exchange of words would make Aemond jealous, and this was something you did not want to experience again. Besides, you were also dreading the prospect of talking to Cregan. It scared you in a way you couldn't explain. You'd ignored him, and you'd ignored him because the girl from just a month ago would have seen herself capable of taking on anything, but you weren't that girl anymore. You had lost strength as if you were starting to let Aemond take care of everything. You weren't you anymore, were you? In the end, it all came down to the fact that you had developed an irrational fear of betraying, harming or offending Aemond.

"Wait", Cregan grabbed your bare arm, and that only caused you anxiety. What would Aemond think if he saw you like this, with his body so close to yours? With the northerner claiming you so fiercely? "Please, (Y/N), wait", he whispered to you, looking into your eyes with the sincerity that characterized him. I understand that you don't want to see me. I heard what happened after I left, but we need to talk." His hand loosened its grip on your arm.

"I don't want to talk, Cregan," you told him without taking your eyes off the ground. You were taking too long. You had only told Aemond that you would go to the bathroom and come back. He must have been worried about you, and you were just being hindered by Cregan. "I don't need to talk."

“Everyone needs to talk about what's wrong with them, (Y/N)", he whispered to you and at that moment, his eyes met yours. You wish Aemond was like this. You wish, sometimeAemond would open up so much to you that you could understand what was going on inside his head. You let your guard down, and Cregan smiled. A sincere and sad smile. "What happened… what happened to you and you going to the hospital was terrible."

"It had nothing to do with you", you replied, looking away from him. Cregan cradled your face in his hands, caressing your chin and lips. This was another kind of love, very different from Aemond's, completely different.

"Even if it had nothing to do with me, I feel just as guilty", he whispered, trying to calm you down, trying to protect you. "I know that something has changed, and you don't want to see me again, but... I still like you, and I'm still in love with you, with your smile, with that beautiful way you had to bite your lip when we made love..." he moaned almost desperately for one more minute by your side. Cregan had always been a lovesick man. Yet you had managed to drive him crazy in ways he couldn't understand. The time he had spent in Winterfell without you had been eternal and painful, even more, hurtful when what had happened to you after his departure reached his ears. The old wolf always fixed things and wanted to be there to fix you. "Please, I only ask you for a coffee. You and I. Alone and calm. Without your family, Just you and me. Fix what we can fix…"

"I-I can't", you sighed, defeated because in front of you was a man even more defeated than you. You did not want to be alone with Cregan because you knew that in your heart, it was this affection that you had always needed and would always need. You would have killed for Aemond to have shown half the devotion Cregan had for you, but you knew your uncle was too arrogant for it. You looked Cregan in the eye to say goodbye and to close that chapter once and for all when you heard your father's voice right behind you.

"I told you to leave her alone!" he roared as he grabbed your arm to pull you away from Cregan. You had never seen your father violent, but he scared you at the time, just as his fist met Cregan's jaw and Cregan made a sound of pain. The girl who was with your father and whose presence you only became aware of then shrieked. And then there was only scandal, screams and people. A security guard grabbed your father, who was almost determined to kill Cregan, and Aemond hugged you as he found you in the crowd. That night two rumours began to resonate even louder throughout the King's Landing: Cregan had been to blame for what had happened to you, and your relationship with Aemond was too close.

Daeron sat wearily on the bed. He sighed and looked at the ceiling. At least he had managed to get Cregan not to press charges after a punch from Aegon. That was progress. The old wolf of Winterfell said he understood your father. After all, Cregan Stark was also the father of several girls. Daeron couldn't remember how many, but he was a father after all. Aegon would never know how to handle his emotions when it had to do with you. At least from the perspective of the smallest of dragons.

The youngest of your uncles fell on the bed after loosening his tie and would have let himself sleep there if it weren't for the fact that he had visitors that night. Lya came out of the bedroom bathroom wrapped in the bathrobe that a few months ago she had insisted on leaving at her boyfriend's house. Daeron hated that young Stark left her things at his house. It was almost a way to increase their commitment. A commitment Daeron was less and less sure of. Lya was capricious and spoiled at times as if being his longest-lasting girlfriend gave her permission to always have her own way.

Daeron leaned back on the bed to watch her as she sat at the dresser she'd asked for a few months ago. He had ended up buying it so he wouldn't have to listen to her. Those were the relationships that stuck, right? Give in to not listen to your loved one. Although, he doubted that he was in love with her. What was love? Has he ever felt it? He watched her remove her makeup in silence while she looked at him in the reflection of that mirror. He remembered that vacation in Pentos with the girl he really liked in college. The one whose parents, true descendants of Old Valyria, had rejected Daeron for his 'tainted' blood. After all, Alicent was the only one who didn't come from a place like this. This vague and imprecise concept that made Aemond proud was just a hoax. They were nothing similar. They never would be, and perhaps with that idea, Daeron had started dating Lya. He would never live up to what their last names were supposed to carry.

"You're very quiet." Lya woke him from his musings, and Daeron stared at the ceiling, weary. He needed a vacation away from his family.

"I was thinking that I'm glad your cousin didn't file a complaint with my brother," he lied because he didn't want to tell Lya what was going through his head because he didn't want to talk to her about how he felt that the relationship was going nowhere. Lya laughed cheekily, and Daeron looked at her again, confused. "What are you laughing at?"

"That my cousin would never press charges against Aegon. He still hopes to end up between (Y/N) 's legs." She smiled again in an unpleasant way as she turned around. Her brown eyes locked with Daeron's. "Poor fool. That place is already taken and awarded to another man. Only a fool or those who refuse to see reality would not see it." She shrugged and continued combing her hair.

"Pardon…?" Daeron started to speak, but Lya cut him off with a cocky smile and a know-it-all look.

"Aemond is fucking your niece. Are you going to tell me it's not true?" She challenged him. She challenged him because Daeron had never dared to raise a word higher than another against his girlfriend, because they had never argued, because he had always given in until Aegon made it clear that he did not want to see Lya again for a long time. She had hurt (Y/N) with her words, and it was clear that she was only with him for his money. She challenged him because he had removed her from his life with a few simple words from his older brother. She challenged him because she was hurt by the way he had pushed her away in an affront against you.

"They have always been very close," was all he could think of to say in answer to your farce. He also had the same suspicions, but he would never dare say them out loud. His conversations with Helaena had advised him to do so.

"Like Daemon and Rhaenyra", she sneered again, and Daeron couldn't take it anymore. He got up and did the unthinkable. Lya kept giggling silently, and her boyfriend grabbed her by the neck, pushing her against the wall. She went cold and saw a more dragon-like fury in Daeron's eyes. Daeron was never going to suffer the same embarrassment that happened to his older sister. The thing that had traumatized him to the point of saying enough, that had embarrassed him. It could be happening. He wasn't the one to reveal it, much less Lya.He would never again live with the shame of such a scandal. Because if Daeron had lived in fear of anything in his life, it was the shame he had felt for all those years until people forgot what had happened between his uncle and Rhaenyra. He squeezed Lya's neck again. That gallant knight, the meekest of dragons, was willing to take out his claws so as not to be embarrassed again.

"Don't you dare suggest something like that again," he whispered between his teeth. "Have you understood me?" He shook her again, and Lya just nodded in frightened silence.

For the first time, Daeron had brought out the angry, fucked-up dragon in him, and Lya knew that the one she had taken for a panoli with money would never ask her to marry him again.

He had offered him a cigarette, and Cregan had refused. He had given up smoking when his second wife insisted on it, for his health and for the curtains not to smell of smoke. The northerner had given in. He always gave in when it came to women. A true gentleman. Every woman's dream until they got bored of it. Cregan had never left a single one of his relationships. It had always been the other party who had insisted on leaving him. He believed that things could have been fixed by talking. He was old school. And with you, he thought exactly the same, but it was clear that your paternal family would never let him get close to you again.

"Just give me a number, and I'll pay you." Aemond Targaryen, CEO of Targaryen Industries, was in front of him. The dragon was indeed smoking. Leaning back in his large leather chair, as he stared at Cregan Stark with his one eye. He had invited him into her office that morning, just after Aegon had given him a black eye, to 'talk business'. Cregan had come with the hope that these businesses would address your situation, but he found that Aemond simply wanted to buy him the project that a month ago had seemed ridiculous to him.

Cregan wasn't stupid. He knew that this was a subtle and veiled form of blackmail. If he sold his project for an exorbitant amount of money, he was selling his silence at the same time. A nice and elegant way to mask everything that had happened at the gala the night before. It was a clear subtext that Aemond Targaryen wanted to offer him: 'I bought your project in exchange for not denouncing my brother and, in exchange for your silence for any statement you could make'. That was what dragons always tried to do. To master absolutely everything. The northerner scribbled an absurdly high figure on a piece of paper and offered it to Aemond silently. He didn't want to be there. Your uncle accepted that. Aemond just looked at the paper without showing a single reaction and picked up the phone in his office. Cregan watched in disbelief as he asked Alys to set up a transfer for the amount the old wolf had put on that piece of paper.

"If that was all." Cregan started to rise from his seat when Aemond waved him back to sit down. The northerner obeyed in silence but only lifted his chin in a haughty gesture. He knew that now the topic of conversation was going to be you. Your uncle thought that he had bought Cregan with such a sum of money, perhaps he had, but he wanted to make sure that everything would return to normal after such a monetary exchange.

Aemond fell silent, a warning. "I don't want you to see her again" he was direct in his request, much less violent than his older brother, but just as threatening and possessive of you. "Don't even try to talk to her. I want you to disappear from her life."

"I suppose that this request is included in such an amount of money", Cregan replied in a bad manner. The northern challenged him. Anyone else would have nodded and gone bowing to the King of King's Landing. But Cregan Stark didn't care. Never again would dragons intimidate him.

"All men have a price, and you have written it on a piece of paper," Aemond replied. He leaned back on his desk and offered Cregan up again. "I'm going to be magnanimous, I can offer you twice as much, but it's best that you never go near her again. I'm not going to be so nice if you do it again," he smiled. One of the corners of his lips turned up. A sneer and menace crossed Aemond's face.

"You don't scare me." Cregan would never understand what was going through Aemond's head with you. He didn't think it was a healthy relationship or even logical, and yet your uncle didn't seem to want you to be happy in the eyes of others. Aemond was used to doing and undoing everything. You were not an exception.

"I know, but I think you should think about those around you" Aemond smiled again, almost laughing at Cregan. “Your eldest son Rickon is starting college at Dreadfort College this year. The streets there are dangerous, but I think that's something you already know about.” Aemond began speaking in a confident tone.

"Look…" Cregan was also planning to counterattack, but surely your uncle was much more versed in threatening than Cregan. Aemond had always grown to own everything, and he was going to prove it to the northerner.

"And I know that the kindergarten where you take the smallest of your offspring is extremely elitist, but it is not free of dangers, Cregan." He smiled again. "By the way, you should keep a closer eye on your twin daughters' nights out. It would be a shame if something happened to them in one of the clubs they frequent. You have ten children, I can go on, but I think you are already catching on to how all this is going."

Of course, he was getting it. For Cregan, the main thing was his children. Aemond Targaryen reminded him right in that conversation that Cregan might not be scared of what happened to him, but he was scared of what could happen to his children. Cregan just got up. Willing to go, he wouldn't bother you again because he knew Aemond was capable of anything. He was a dangerous man and always would be, but he turned away. Ready to challenge him one last time, trying to appeal to his conscience. "You're never going to make her happy..."

"She is happy; with me, she is happy. And always will be," your uncle spoke for the last time to the northerner without looking at him. His gloomy face against the light of the enormous window of his office. And at that precise moment, Cregan understood what was wrong with you. He would never say anything. It was just another form of dominance, but he was repulsed at imagining the very thing your uncle had confessed was going on between you. Those who do not remember their history are doomed to repeat it, and it seemed that Aemond Targaryen did not remember the same thing that had happened to his uncle.

"It is quite expensive, but it is a good project", Alys woke Aemond from his thoughts. He was looking out the window of his office. It was almost dark. However, he did not want to go home. He didn't want to look you in the eye right now and think about how he had threatened Cregan so he wouldn't see you again. It wasn't something he was proud of. He wasn't proud of any of the actions he'd taken to keep you by his side. He would never be. But he needed to be with you. That was all he needed. He knew it. He needed you by his side. His. Even if you were to go to Sunspear, you would still be his. He would take care of it. “It will triumph in the congress next week. I've already booked our rooms and…” Alys started blathering on about dates and meetings. She pretended that everything was fine between them for the good of the company, for her benefits within it, but Aemond was about to blow up that feigned peace for your good, for your uncle's idea of what was your good.

“(Y/N) and I are going to the congress. Us two alone. Nobody else. You will stay here and run my schedule. I know you know how to do it. You don't need to come.” Aemond gave a firm order, and Alys's world came crashing down.

No one had the right to remove her from her post, not after working so long at that company. She was almost as important a figure as Aemond. She…she had always given her all for Targaryen Industries. She had betrayed Daemon for the good of the company, for his command to pass into the hands of someone more just but, Aemond was becoming his own uncle by leaps and bounds, and Alys was going to suffer the consequences of it.

"You are kidding, right?" It was all she answered as she felt her legs give way. No. This couldn't be happening. Alys could be many things, but she was a hard worker. The Sunspear Conference was her favourite time of the year. The time to shine, the time to be more than just a secretary. Everyone was talking about her effectiveness at that congress. She hadn't missed it once in the last 30 years. She had even attended more than Aemond had. She was the visible face of Targaryen Industries at that congress, and everything was going to change because of you. It was inadmissible.

“I want you to book the suite in any of the luxury hotels. I don't care where it is. Another smaller room next door. We can't raise suspicions.” Aemond followed his idea, ignoring each and every one of the astonished grimaces that were drawn on Alys' face.

"Aemond, I have to go," she yelled at him, almost desperate. She couldn't let anyone put out her light. She had given everything for the company. She was the one who had placed Aemond in his position. Her mind, her intelligence could not give any more. Her life was that company and nothing more. She hadn't sacrificed so much to be now placed in her simple secretary position. She didn't care that Aemond hadn't taken her to the charity dinner. She didn't care, but not when this was so extremely important.

"Alys, I think you are forgetting your place in this company. Am I going to have to remind you?" Aemond's jaw set, and Alys turned, determined to leave. Aemond Targaryen was ungrateful and didn't know who he was messing with. No doubt he was biting off more than he could chew.

An old but elegant clock marked midnight in that house in the Summer Islands. Subtle, muted cream curtains swayed in the breeze, and light from a pool in the garden shed some light on the quiet room. Old volumes of the history of Ancient Valyria between modern detective novels and political books. Daemon Targaryen had always been a man of eclectic tastes, but what he enjoyed most was a glass of whiskey and a good book.

That rather comfortable and elegant house seemed to sleep. An old photo of Daemon and Rhaenyra sat on a high teakwood mantel on which Dark Sister also rested, an old family heirloom. Proof that the Targaryens had always been into weaponry. When Daemon left his beloved company, that sword and that photo were the only things that had accompanied him to his sad exile from the rest of the mortals. His had almost seemed the most unforgivable of sins. Sitting in the darkness of his living room, an ageing Daemon thought about everything that had destroyed him and led to this situation. Aemond had never deprived him of any luxury. That was true. He had assigned him a lifetime salary, which Daemon enjoyed and squandered in his elegant home on the Summer Isles. He was still drinking a bottle of whiskey a week and fucking a different woman almost every night, but he was missing something. He was missing his beloved Rhaenyra.

Although his nephew thought himself very cunning, Daemon knew who had leaked the information. The only problem was that it seemed impossible to hit back at a man who had shielded his private life almost masterfully. Daemon wondered if his one-eyed nephew ever enjoyed life. But, that night, while reflecting on it as, almost every night, the phone rang, and Daemon Targaryen received the most important call of his life. Someone had betrayed Aemond Targaryen, and you were going to be one of the collateral victims of the revenge that Daemon was certain to execute on Aemond.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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just-some-guy-joust · 1 year

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Doomed By The Narrative Showdown - Contestants List

Note: This is NOT the order of the brackets! I'm doing something different this time! All brackets and their orders will not be revealed. This list was randomized from the brackets I set up and does not represent who each character will be up against! The only thing you know for sure which side of the bracket they're on! When the polls go up, they'll be posted in order based on the list here, NOT based on where their brackets actually are!

Round 1 is finished. Round 2 will start on Saturday the 13th at 5 PM PST. All polls are tagged "tournament poll" for easy access. This post is also tagged with that for easy access.

If you want me to see propaganda you've made, please tag me! Yes that includes if you put the propaganda in a reblog of the poll, tag me anyways! It makes it easier for me to find!

(Full list of characters in text format is under the cut)

Side A:

The Narrator (The Stanley Parable)

Beatrice (Umineko: When They Cry)

Eden (In A Manor Of Speaking)

Anthy Himemiya (Revolutionary Girl Utena)

Primrose Everdeen (The Hunger Games)

The Hollow Knight (Hollow Knight)

Red Guy (Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared)

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead)

Phosphophyllite (Land of the Lustrous)

Claire Elford and Noel Levine (Witch's Heart)

Five Pebbles (Rain World)

Jinx (Arcane)

Mordred (High Noon Over Camelot)

Ghost of Hallownest (Hollow Knight)

Spamton (Deltarune)

Carmen (Lobotomy Corporation)

Side B:

The Elric Brothers (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood)

Hiyoko Tosaka (Hatoful Boyfriend)

Hatchling (Outer Wilds)

Homura Akemi (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint)

Audrey Redheart (Wandersong)

Benrey (HLVRAI)

The Porygon Evolution Line (Pokemon)

Madoka Kaname (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Maria Robotnik (Sonic the Hedgehog)

Jackie Taylor (Yellowjackets)

Lyfrassir Edda (The Bifrost Incident)

Mike Walters (Woe.Begone)

Vanitas (The Case Study of Vanitas)

Akane Kurashiki (Zero Escape)

Ganondorf (The Wind Waker)

#tumblr showdown #tumblr competition #brackets #doomed by the narrative #doomed by the narrative showdown #to quickly reach the polls tap this next tag!#tournament poll

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stevesbestgirl · 10 months

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Phases of the Moon - Part 4

Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader

4880 words

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, chances of a few swears, reader is still oblivious in the beginning and as always, painfully American, reader has a few moments of insecurity

A/N: Not a warning, but honestly, this is disgusting. Like it’s so cute it should be illegal. And I’m not sorry. Steven Grant being an absolute sweetheart means that it’s all fair game. Posting the first date in two parts at the same time because it’s ridiculously long.

As always, keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point.

*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*

Masterlist

“Steven?” You were surprised to see he was calling you. You hadn’t made plans with him for Saturday, had you?

“Could you come to the museum today?” Steven skipped the greetings, his words blending together in his haste to get them out.

You chuckled, “I suppose I could. Are we touring more today?”

“Not today. But if it’s alright, I’d sort of like it to be a surprise.”

Your brows pinched; what was he up to now? “Alright then. It’s not more of those awful candies from the gift shop, is it?” You’d dared Steven to try one after he’d complained about their lack of relevance to Egypt, arguing that they were still a good product if they tasted good. They were not a good product, as it turned out and you’d both found out the hard way.

He laughed, the sound making your heart skip, even over the phone, “No, it’s a good surprise. At least I think it is.”

Now curiosity was gnawing at you a bit, “What time then?”

“When can you arrive?”

“Maybe a half hour, depending on if the bus is running on time.”

“Let’s say twelve then- don’t want you rushin’ around.” His words didn’t quite match his eager tone.

“Right, guess I’ll see you in a bit then.”

You really weren’t sure what to make of any of this; it was outside your routine with Steven- outside the carefully laid boundaries you’d set for yourself. But you still hung up and got dressed, said goodbye to Dalton, and headed out to wait for the bus.

Meanwhile, Steven was fiddling with his collar in the mirror, “I don’t know why I have to try the tie every time- I know it doesn’t work.”

“You’re a mystery, Steven,” Marc quipped. He liked seeing Steven all whipped up like this. “Maybe you should try the jacket again.”

Steven stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, “Don’t be putting ideas into my head, I’m all mixed up as it is.” He glanced at his phone on the bedside table, “D’you think she sounded excited?”

“About the gift shop candies? No.”

“Marc-”

“Fine. But isn’t it a little hard to be excited about something you don’t know about?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Steven admitted, his excitement quickly morphing into nervousness.

“She sounded happy to hear from you, Steven. Don’t overthink it. Just listen to your gut. And me.”

“Right. Gotta listen to my gut.”

“And me.”

Steven hesitated, “Sure.”

At five to twelve, you stepped off the bus and crossed the street to the museum. You’d thought you would see Steven out front, but there were only a few stray patrons on their way into the museum. Making your way up the steps, you paused in the entrance, spotting Donna at the information desk.

Skirting around the edge of the room, you made a beeline for the gift shop, but you heard Donna’s voice call out, “Oi, you!” You kept walking, hoping she wasn’t talking to you, but then her footsteps approached, “Hang on a second, would you?” How was it possible for someone to be so disagreeable so consistently?

You looked now and she was indeed speaking to you and, as always, she looked rather cross, “Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“Are you out of your mind, bringing food into a museum?” Your expression must have betrayed you because she looked a bit smug, “That’s right, JB told me about last night. He also told me that our boy Stevie got all riled up when he shooed you out.” She smirked at that, as though the idea of Steven upset was somehow satisfying.

“Actually-”

“I haven’t got time to hear your reasons, alright? I know you and Stevie had a date scheduled for yesterday or whatever, but just because your boyfriend works here doesn’t mean you can do whatever you please.”

“Steven and I are-”

She cut you off again, “I won’t ban you this time because I suspect he might just quit if I did and I need someone to cover the shop next week, but don’t press your luck, you understand?”

You’d given up on replying, so you just nodded, absently wondering if Steven had called it a date or if Donna was paraphrasing. Donna cocked an eyebrow, “You mute or something? I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

“Right. Then trot on- he’s in the gift shop.” She shook her head, “In on his day off again-” the rest of her musing was unintelligible as you parted ways.

Donna was right about one thing; Steven was in the gift shop, fiddling with his unruly curls in the mirror behind the counter while the staff member manning the counter tried awkwardly to avoid meeting his gaze. You watched him for a second, a small smile at the corners of your mouth.

He looked a bit more put together today, if only a bit. His shirt was plain, not one of the patterned ones he normally seemed to favor. His jacket didn’t seem quite as wrinkled as usual either, almost like he’d made a vain attempt at ironing it.

“Got a big date tonight, Steven?” It was a stupid thing to say; what would you do if he said yes? But he was too cute not to tease, fussing over his hair as if he would ever cooperate with him.

He gave a start, whipping around and burying his hands deep in his pockets to hide the evidence. He shuffled over to you, hands still buried, and the awkward gait almost made you laugh aloud; he was definitely nervous about something.

Steven tried to smile, but it almost looked painful, “I was, ah- actually sort of hoping that might be the case.”

Your eyebrows pinched together, “You were…hoping you’d have a date?” He was biting his lip, his hands still buried in his pockets; that one stray curl was slowly being pulled back into its usual spot by gravity, determined to spite his efforts at styling it.

And then you got it, just as Steven spoke again, “Would you wanna- you know, go on a date with me today?” Your lips parted in surprise; you’d resigned yourself to never hearing those words. Your moment of shock was enough time for Steven to lose a bit of his nerve, “It’s alright if not, apologies if I’m out of line-”

“I’d love to.”

He didn’t seem to notice your response, “I’d be devastated if you and I weren’t friends anymore, so I understand-”

“Steven,” you said, more firmly this time. “I’d love to go out with you.”

There was another pause as your words sunk in, “You would? You’re not just having a laugh? Because I’ll be crushed if you are, honestly-”

A laugh bubbled out of you and you reached for him, hesitating a bit, “Is it alright if I-”

He nodded rapidly, “Y-yeah, course.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle in a hug, tucking your head into his shoulder. He did seem surprised at first, his arms rising to make room for you and then hovering for a few moments before he gently rested them on your back.

You breathed deeply, that distinctly “Steven” scent washing over you. “I thought I was just pining like an idiot,” you admitted, your words muffled.

Steven felt like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hug- a real hug. And it was you. Your head was tucked against his shoulder, your breath on his neck. Realizing he’d been holding his own breath, he forced himself to exhale and then inhale. It took a couple of repetitions to find a rhythm again. He could smell something sweet; he wasn’t sure if it was perfume or just soap, but he thought it might be making him dizzy. Or maybe that was just you.

He knew he was too stiff- unused to the sensation of that much physical contact, but god, he didn’t want you to go. He wanted to hold you like this for as long as you’d let him. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure what you’d been asking for, but he would’ve agreed to just about anything you’d asked.

And you’d been pining for him? He’d been a bit pleased with himself for deducing that you’d liked him, but it was entirely different to hear you say it out loud.

His heart ached when you pulled away, unwinding your arms from around his back, but then you smiled and he didn’t mind as much.

You couldn’t have put the relief you felt into words if you’d tried. You glanced around the gift shop; the clerk was still pointedly looking anywhere but at you two and you felt a bit guilty. Grabbing Steven’s hand, you pulled him into the next room, “Not that I mind, but why didn’t you just ask me out when you called?”

Steven looked a bit affronted at the question, “Well you don’t ask someone on a date over the phone, do you?”

You smiled at his conviction, “Of course not. The only proper place to ask a girl out is in a museum.”

“Well, it’s not the only place-” he paused, “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Only a little.”

That warm glow swept up his cheeks, “I should have asked you when we were here last week, except I botched it. So I thought that maybe if I did it here for real, I could- you know- do it over.” He followed up quickly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I’ve wanted to take you on a date since the first day I saw you, but I didn’t want to rush it, you know? And I’m sure it seemed like that was what I was asking, but it never even occurred to me since I wanted to take you on a proper date, ‘cause that’s what you deserve.”

Steven was rambling; you probably should have stopped him, but instead, you listened to him speak, a faint smile on your face. He was, without a doubt, the sweetest man you’d ever met.

He stopped, noticing the way you were watching him, “And here I’m going on and on and you can’t get a word in edgewise- that’s fantastic, Steven.” He bopped himself on the temple with his palm in a show of penance before you had the chance to speak.

“I like listening to you talk.”

“I think you’d be the first,” he chuckled, suddenly self-conscious.

“I’m quite happy to be,” you assured him. “Shall we get started then?”

Steven nodded, “Right, yeah- I thought we could get some lunch. You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I should I have said something on the phone, but I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes-”

You were smiling again, “Lunch sounds good, Steven.”

“Great. After you then?”

He gestured grandly, making you laugh, and following you out into the lobby. You could see Donna muttering something to JB at security as you and Steven left the museum together.

He began walking down the sidewalk and you followed his lead, “So was yesterday supposed to be a date then? Donna seemed to think so.” You couldn’t help teasing a bit more; you were feeling giddy.

“I meant to ask you to dinner after the tour.” He looked a bit chagrined, “I thought dinner might be a bit more romantic.”

You felt the corner of your mouth twitch upward, “We could have done dinner today, if you’d have preferred.”

The rosy glow returned to his cheeks, “Well I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure I could wait all day to call you.”

You leaned in, your shoulder brushing his, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“When did you talk to Donna?”

“She caught me on my way in- scolded me a bit about the pizza. Said she wouldn’t ban me this time only because she didn’t want you to quit.” He looked a bit distressed until you gave him a reassuring smile. Your hand brushed the back of his. You were walking close on purpose, hoping he might take the lead, but he’d been taking things slow, so you didn’t want to rush him.

He chuckled in disbelief, “She said she didn’t want me to quit?”

“Well, she said she needed you to work the desk next week.”

“Now that sounds more like Donna,” he grimaced. Though he quickly brightened, “Ah, here we are.” He stopped outside a little cafe; it was rather cute, with little, iron-wrought tables out front under the awning. He peered into the front window, looking like he’d suddenly remembered his nerves.

“Have you been here before?”

“Just once. I thought it was quite nice, so I made sure to remember it in case- well, in case I ever had someone to bring.”

“It looks cute. Shall we get a table?”

He nodded, rushing to get the door for you, smiling at your flustered thank you. The woman manning the counter smiled, “Will it be two then?”

Steven’s head bobbed rapidly, “Yes, two. Just us- on a date, you know.” He cleared his throat and you glanced at him, trying not to smile. He grimaced, “Sorry. Bit nervous.”

The server smiled, “That’s lovely. Pick a table wherever you like and I’ll be over for your drinks in just a few moments.”

“What do you think? Outside?” you prompted, trying to save Steven the anxiety of deciding where to sit.

“Sure- I mean, yes, that sounds quite nice.”

You led the way back out, opening the door for him, which sent him tumbling into a spout of flustered thanks intermingled with halfhearted protests. As if to compensate, he pulled your chair out for you before taking his own seat across from you, looking like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands.

You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just like all the times we chatted at the museum. You were never nervous then.”

He smiled weakly in return, “Hard to be nervous when you’re spoutin’ off facts about ancient Egypt, innit?”

“I’m just as interested in what you have to say now as I was then. Arguably, I never cared so much about Egypt as I do when you tell me about it,” you admitted.

“I suppose that explains why your pronunciations could use some work.”

You opened your mouth, gasping in mock offense, “You said I was getting better!”

Steven panicked, “Oh god, I was only trying to tease you, they aren’t really that bad-” He cut off when you smiled, catching on to the joke again.

You laughed, “I’m sorry I keep teasing you, Steven. It’s sweet how you get so flustered.”

He chuckled weakly, “Maybe that’s why Donna is always so cross with me.”

He was joking, so he was surprised to see your expression harden, “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but why do you stay at the museum when she’s so awful to you? I know you love Egypt, but I’m sure there’s lots of other jobs that could use someone as smart as you.” You spoke with conviction, but your gaze kept pulling to where his hand rested on the table.

He glanced down at his shoes, “Well, I would really like to become a guide someday. You’re givin' me too much credit anyway.”

“I’m definitely not giving you too much credit, Steven,” you insisted. “You know so much about Egypt; you’re probably overqualified to be a guide. Donna is wasting your potential. And even if she won’t make you a guide, she should treat you better.”

He shrugged, “It’s not so bad. I like spending time at the museum. Plus, I’m lucky to have got my job back after I got binned.”

“They fired you?” you asked incredulously.

Steven rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I deserved it though. Bunked off for a couple of days without calling.”

You looked puzzled; you couldn’t imagine anything making Steven jeopardize his job, “Like a mental health thing?”

He offered a weak smile, “Something like that.”

You weren’t planning to press; you knew how that could go, but the silence was saved by the arrival of the server, offering you the lunch menus and taking your drink orders. Steven ordered a white tea and while you were tempted just to get the same as him, you were afraid you might not like it; you didn’t have much experience with tea. You ordered a chai tea, the only kind you really recognized on the menu.

You wanted to mention the fact that you were on a leave of absence from your own job- maybe it would make him feel better. But talking about that was a direct line to why you’d come here in the first place and that wasn’t exactly a first date topic.

So instead you tipped your head, “I suppose as long as you’re happy there. I’ll try to hold my tongue with Donna, if only for your sake.”

“Sorry love, I’m afraid she’ll probably have it out for you if you’re associated with me.” He looked genuinely apologetic, like you may have wanted the opportunity to be friends with his witch of a boss.

“You think? Maybe if I tell her we’ve had an awful time, she’ll forgive me and I can get back on her good side.”

He gave a hesitant chuckle, like he couldn’t tell if you were joking, “If you insult me enough, I’m sure you could.” He paused a moment, “You’re not, are you? Having an awful time, I mean.”

“I’m actually having quite a lovely time with you, Steven,” you slid your hand across the table, brushing the edge of his fingers with yours.

“There we are, two teas: a chai and a white.” Steven quickly moved his arm out of the way as the server returned with the drinks. You did the same, busying yourself toying with the menu. “Do you both know what you’ll have?”

You placed your orders and the server disappeared again, taking the menus with her. You gave your tea a cautionary, cooling blow before taking a sip. Steven watched you curiously, making you a bit self-conscious, “What? Am I drinking my tea like an American?”

He grinned guiltily, “A bit, yeah, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow, “How is that then?” You rested your chin in your palm, waiting for his answer.

“You sipped it like you were afraid of it,” he chuckled, drinking his own, the correct way, you presumed.

You let your hand fall to the table with indignation, “I haven’t had much tea up until now. Apologies if I’m not a natural tea drinker.” You rolled your eyes, hoping he was catching on to when you were joking.

He moved quickly, like he was afraid to lose his nerve, resting his hand on top of yours on the table, “I think it’s quite cute, actually.” He tipped his head to your cup, resolutely not looking at your hands on the table, as though you’d believe he was feeling nonchalant, “How d’you like it then?”

You bit your lip to suppress a smile, flicking your gaze to his, “Not bad. I could be a tea girl.”

Once it became clear that you weren’t going to pull away from his touch, he curled his fingers around yours. His palms were surprisingly rough. He swallowed a bit thickly, “I could make some different kinds for you to try sometime, if you wanted.”

“I’d like that.”

His thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand, the movement slow and deliberate, “D’you wanna try a bit of mine?”

You gave him a small smirk, “Drinking from the same cup? That’s a bit like indirect kissing, isn’t it Steven?”

His eyes went wide, “I didn’t mean anything untoward. You’re right, that was a bit silly-”

Your laugh broke his train of thought and he faltered, “I’d love to try it, Steven.” You held out your free hand toward the cup, “Unless you mind, of course.”

He shook his head, “No- no, course not.”

You paused before taking a sip, “D’you want to try mine? Fair’s fair.”

He looked surprised at your offer, but he nodded, reaching for your cup, his hand looking a bit shaky. You raised his cup in a small toast, smiling at him before taking a sip.

“Pretty good,” you admitted, returning his cup to its saucer in front of him. “And you?”

He nodded again, “Good.” He liked the faint spice of a chai tea, but he couldn’t think of anything other than the fact that your lips probably had that same spice lingering on them right now. But he was getting ahead of himself. He was already pleased just to be holding your hand. Just brushing his thumb over your soft skin made his heart race.

So when the server came over with the food, he almost wished it had taken longer because he wasn’t ready yet. He thought he might have to manually unwind his fingers from your hand because he really didn’t want to let go, but when the moment came, he released you, not realizing that his emotions were transparently displayed on his face.

You thanked the server and waited until she departed to smile at Steven, “You’ll get to hold my hand again, Steven.”

He gave a weak chuckle, “Am I that obvious then?”

“A little. But I think it’s very sweet.”

He still looked a bit nervous before blurting out, “Sorry. I’m a bit new at this sort of thing.” His expression changed instantly to one of regret; like he’d had an agreement not to disclose that particular tidbit and failed to keep his word.

You had questions; how new did he mean exactly? But it was obvious that he was embarrassed by it, so rather than ask your questions, you sampled a fry from your plate, “That’s alright- no shame there. I’d rather you be a bit new than some tosser who thinks he knows everything.” You laughed at the new word, “Did I use that right? I’m still learning the slang here.”

He nodded, “Yeah, that’s how you use it.” He took a moment, appearing to rouse himself, “But you’ve gotta sort of throw it away- like you don’t care. It’s not a word you use quite so deliberately; it’s more like they’re an afterthought, yeah?” He seemed to remember his own food, suddenly realizing he could eat.

You nodded, pleased to see him relax a bit again, “Right, I’ll remember that. I’ve started picking up a few things from my cousin and his wife, so if I misuse something, you’ll need to let me know, alright? I’m counting on you to keep me from sounding like an idiot.”

“Well, I might not be the best for that job- I’m fairly certain I sound like a knob all the time.”

“You do not!” You rolled your eyes, “Just because Donna and JB don’t appreciate you doesn’t mean you’re- what was it, a knob?”

His face flushed; he wondered if he should have chosen his words more carefully- not very romantic for a first date, “Yeah that was it.”

“What’s that one mean then?” He almost choked on his food and you followed hastily, “Oh god, I was only teasing you, Steven. I know what it means. I’m so sorry.”

But he wasn’t annoyed at your ill-timed joke, he only cleared his throat, muttering, “Oh, thank the gods.”

You made a little sound of excitement, “Oh! Speaking of the gods, we’re still going to finish our tour, right?”

Steven cocked his head, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, you said the museum tour wasn’t your idea of a date, but I would quite like to finish it. I might’ve been more interested in learning about you than the museum the first few times I came back, but now I’m a bit invested. In both, actually.”

Steven gazed at you, his eyes soft, “You came back because you were interested in me?”

“Well, the first time I came in, I really meant to just walk the museum that day. But I was a bit embarrassed after making a fool of myself-”

“You got knocked over, that’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” Steven interjected.

You raised an eyebrow, “So if someone knocked you down in front of a pretty girl, you wouldn’t be embarrassed at all?”

“Well of course I would, but I’m no pretty girl, am I?” he gave a nervous chuckle.

“Steven, you are very handsome, first of all. And second of all, you were so sweet to me that day that I was absolutely mortified. So I bailed and decided to come back and hope I would run into you again.” You sipped your tea to cover your embarrassment.

Steven couldn’t seem to formulate a response, but you took that as a positive sign, considering he had a dopey half-smile on his face. You wondered how far and few between compliments were for him to react this way; he seemed so stunned by your interest in him.

“At risk of sounding forward, I’d like to go out with you again, but I don’t want to give up the tour. So maybe you can make an exception for me and we can plan a date to finish the tour so I can stop wasting your breaks.”

That appeared to break him from his stupor, “You haven’t wasted anything- spending time with you is the best way I can think of to use my break time- or any time, really.”

You smiled, “I do like visiting you. But if I keep making you go over on your break, I might end up banned from the museum.”

“Maybe I would quit then,” he offered.

You pointed a fry at him, “I wouldn’t let you. We can follow the rules so no one gets banned or fired.”

“You know, if you’re feeling up to it, we could go back to the museum today,” he suggested, hesitating a moment before clarifying, “If you want to, of course.”

You nodded, “I’d like that.”

He held your gaze seriously, “You’ll still come to visit me on my break even once we’ve finished the tour, yeah?”

You laughed, his intensity making you self-conscious, “Of course I will.”

“Then we’ve got a deal.” He beamed, making your heart skip. You’d been on one date with the man and you were already good and smitten. Steven raised his hand to signal the server that you were ready for the bill and you reached for your wallet. “Come on now, put that away,” he insisted. “Call me old-fashioned, but it’s on me.”

“Steven-”

“I asked you here today, it’s only right that I should pay.” As the server approached with the bill, he hastily placed a few notes into her hand before she could even drop the slip on the table, “Keep the change, love.” Hearing him call the server “love” made a tiny spark of jealousy erupt in the pit of your stomach.

But he sprang out of his seat, rushing around the table to help you push back your chair and offering you a hand up. As you stood, he not-so-subtly slipped his hand into yours. You smirked at him, “Smooth.”

He dropped your hand, “Oh god, sorry, is it a bit much?”

You laughed, chasing his hand with yours, “Wait, come back!” Steven thought his heart might stop as you laced your fingers through his. “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know. I like you a lot, Steven.” You wrinkled your nose, “That is a bit much for a first date, huh?”

He shook his head, “No- yeah- I like you quite a bit.” God, you made him want to relax, but every time he did he grew too bold. He wanted to treat you with respect. And god forbid he do something to offend, making you come to your senses and tell him to get lost.

You half smiled, “I don’t think ‘quite a bit’ is very much compared to ‘a lot,’ you know. Should I be offended?” You made no move to remove your hand from his, so he was pretty sure you were teasing.

“No offense intended. I like you a great deal. And I think you’re quite lovely, I might add.”

You looked away, your lips betraying you with a smile, “Normally I wouldn’t believe such a nice comment, but if you spend all your time with Donna and JB, I’m sure even I seem lovely in comparison.”

Steven spoke before he could talk himself out of it, “You’d seem stunning next to a rose, love.”

Despite all of your effort to brush off your embarrassment, your face burned, “Bit prickly though, aren’t they?"

“Some things are worth gettin’ stuck on, yeah?” He brushed his thumb over your knuckle where your fingers were intertwined.

You were entirely speechless. He was so earnest that you couldn’t even be annoyed about how cliche that was because he seemed to really mean it. You gave his hand a little squeeze in lieu of a response; nothing you could come up with was the right way to reply to something like that.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fluff #phases of the moon series

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punkeropercyjackson · 3 months

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Why afrolatino Jason Todd works,an analysis by an irl afrolatina and thee Jason expert

His personality is EXTREMELY realistic for a black or latino and especially both man.He's cocky asf,a (multiple time!) mama's boy but mouths off to his dad with no hesitant and for fun even,respects women by seeing the female characters as either equals or above him,roughouses with his brothers,a big ass nerd since childhood and acts tough and invulnerable for the sake of looking cool but his heart's as big as his tits and a lot of his lines are so sappy in a poetic way i feel the need to avert my eyes when i see them to give him privacy

His pre-reboot Robin self reminds me of SEVERAL canon young black boy characters(Miles Morales,Oscar Pine,Zak Saturday and possibly more)

Duke is his favorite brother despite knowing him YEARS less than the other Batboys.Do i even need to say anything on this one

Every single woman he's been attracted to have been woc,those being Rose(half cambodian),Artemis(egyptian)and Dana(black).He dosen't like white girls <3

Further proof?He had KORIAND'R HERSELF throwing herself at him but showed active disenterest.For context:We're talking about post taking away her black-coding

Him growing up poor can be explained by being a second/third gen inmigrant making finding jobs hard for his family and to this day i remember when my history teacher called us 'a poor country' because of how much damage colonizers did here.Let me have this

The Joker killing him at 15 and him getting victim blamed and a bad rep despite what a good kid he was gains a new light if it's because he was a black child and so does him becoming Red Hood because of it.Also.Red HOOD.C'mon

The artist for Red Hood:Outlaws said he headcanons him as latino because he is and an iconic event a few years back was John Boyega clowning a racist on twitter by saying he wants to play Jason.Here's how the stars can align

African-American parents commonly give their kids greek names and the original Jason was a greek mythos hero!!

Let's be deeply serious,Jason would not have even HALF the gross fans he does if he was black.You think fanon onlys would be riding that hard for an afrolatino man seeking vengeance for himself with gray morality?They'd act like he's worse than Slade and the Joker combined and call him ugly nonstop💀Comics readers would have him all to ourselves with no weirdos getting their hands on him

Canonically almost entierly uniterested in casual relathionships,smoking or drinking so there's some stereotypes off the table

Selina,Babs and Kory have green eyes.They're all black in one way or another.Jason has green eyes.You understand

He's a classical literature nerd and latino lit is some of the best there is

Bombshells him is a spaniard and that's exactly the kind of move DC would pull with an actual latino character(the run released post the hc for him becoming popular)

Legoverse and webtoons made him a gamer.Hashtag cringefail black gamer dude realness

Something something the soft uwu black boy Robin is actually kid him and not Duke

Giving him a fridge ass build and a buzzcut in Gotham Knights was DC stereotyping(/BIG JOKE,PLEASE THERE'S ACTUAL REASONS IT'S SHIT)

Five words:Dominican horror folklore based tactics

Talia and his' mother-son relathionship is made all the more heartwarming and sad

Stephanie and i are the same person so she's black like me by extension and she's the only Batfam girl he really gets along with and imo this would also include Nell and Tiffany if the writers weren't fuckasses and went through with their actual good stories

Look up Aubrey Joseph vids.There's no better fancast for him out there not in looks but in personality

Trivia finale:His birthday is the same date as Dominican Restoration Day,red represents blood on our country's flag,at our schools we sell mini packets of neapolitan cream with mini spoons to eat them and his Lego movie is called 'Family Matters'

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just-some-trans-nobody · 5 months

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Put on pause due to sickness.

Ok so I have the December Christmas Monster stories schedule made and the first five days written already. You can ask for your request to be on certain days, if not they will fall into the first available request slot. If I some how get more requests than the available request slots don't worry I'll still write them but they will have no scheduled time.

Remember check my pinned post to see what things I will not write before sending in a request, ones that break my rules will be ignored completely or be blocked if it breaks three or more things on the list.

*Small edit to update the schedule the list*

December 1.) Yautja Christmas head cannons

December 2.) Female Naga

December 3.) Shadow Creature

December 4.) Orc Breeding

December 5.) Crazy Mothman

December 6.) Centaur + Drider raising human child Platonic

December 7.) Yautja

December 8.) Horny Krampus

December 9.) Saturday Snake

December 10.) Werewolf Neighbor

December 11.) Satyr

December 12.) Bigfoot

December 13.) Half Giant

December 14.) Siren

December 15.) Harpy

December 16.) Saturday Snake

December 17.) Dragon with knight reader

December 18.) Orc bestie

December 19.) Minotaur

December 20.) Octomerman

December 21.) Robot's first Christmas Platonic

December 22.) Requested Eldrige Horror

December 23.) Saturday Snake

December 24.) Requested Centaur dads with teen kid

December 25.) Bat Creature

December 26.) Grumpy centaur dad with toddler

December 27.) Fire demon

December 28.) Requested Walter part 2

December 29.) Orc Tavern

December 30.) Saturday Snake

December 31.) New Years Kiss

Happy holidays everyone and happy reading.

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moonlight-prose · 2 years

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♱ PRETTY BOY ♱

a/n: not going to lie this was going to be a fic idea a few months ago, but then i decided to throw it in with my kinktober prompts. i've been deep in my moon knight feels lately and writing for steven was a must. enjoy!

day three - face sitting | kinktober 2022

summary: date night with steven gives you all that you could have wanted and more.

word count: 2.5k+

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, pussy drunk steven, praise (m receiving), oral (f receiving), cum eating.

Date night was an annual thing Steven started. With him and Marc out being a superhero at all hours of the night, you rarely got to see your boyfriend if you weren’t helping him patch something up. Sure, he healed quickly, but with Steven he somehow managed to injure himself outside of fighting. An odd bruise here and there, a cut on his nose. All things that went away the next day.

Yet still he continued to ask for your help in patching him up. You teased him about it, telling him that he just wanted you to worry over him, but you didn’t even mind doing that.

Which led to the idea of date night. Every Saturday night he would take you wherever you wanted to go, giving you a whole night of just you and him with no interruptions. Marc played along with it. He gave you this, because he loved you just as much as Steven did—your happiness was always his top priority—and if spending the night with Steven meant you were content with them, then he let it happen. Some nights you yearned for Marc, wanting to know everything and anything he would tell you.

Except Saturdays solely belonged to Steven. The man who held your heart in his hand, who bought you flowers just because, and gifted you books that reminded him of you.

Walking down the street, you felt Steven’s hand slip into yours, a tipsy smile gracing his lips. After one whole bottle of wine and a filling dinner, the both of you were high on the endorphins of alcohol and lust. It started off innocent enough. He told you about the things you weren’t yet caught up on and you told him how things at your job were going. But then the touching set in. His thigh brushed against yours, his hand holding yours and purposely tracing the pulse point on your wrist.

Eventually you had to get out of the restaurant to get some fresh air or you’d wind up dragging him to the bathroom. Getting banned from one of your go to spots wasn’t a part of the plans for the night. So, you left. Leaving you here, walking hand in hand beside him as he led you back to his flat for the night.

You knew the second you were inside the both of you would revert back to your lustful nature. Both desperate for one another after so much time apart. But for now…you relished in this. A simple act of romance that would have seemed minor to anyone else, but to you it was everything. He wrapped an arm around your waist, brushing against the fabric of the maroon dress you chose for the night.

“I’ve missed you love.” Five days away from you was far too long in Steven’s opinion and he knew you shared the same sentiment.

Grinning, you leaned further into his hold, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked a bit unsteady in your heels. “Not as much as I’ve missed you.”

His building was just down the street, yet you didn’t want to go inside just yet. The night air was crisp and lovely against the bare skin of your legs—the sky practically sparkling with the sight of the half moon. You found it funny how often you looked up to the moon on the days Steven and Marc were gone. As if that was your way to connect to them—as if they’d hear you call out to them simply by looking at it too.

“I had a nice time,” you murmured, leaning against the wall of his building, taking in a deep breath.

Steven’s lips twitched, his eyes raking down your body with a look you knew you wore as well. The streetlamp cast a glow on the side of his face, sharpening his jaw and turning his brown eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. You knew what he looked like as Mr. Knight, knew that the suit he wore and the powers he possessed truly made him an ethereal being. But tonight…he was merely Steven Grant. The man you’d met by practically falling on top of him—the man you loved.

“Come here,” you whispered, watching entranced as he stepped closer, his hand coming to press against the wall beside your head. “You’re so pretty.”

He flushed red, eyes darting down to your parted lips. “I should be the one saying that to you love.”

“How about…” Trailing a hand up his button down shirt, you traced his bottom lip. “You kiss me instead.”

Steven didn’t need to be told twice. Surging forward he captured your lips in a kiss that practically seared through your body. You sighed, leaning into his body as his tongue swept across your bottom lip. Kissing him always felt like this. Soft, tender, and passionate enough to leave you wanting more than what he gave you. He kissed you like he knew in the back of his mind that you were breakable when held in his hands—you were his precious piece of art, something he had to protect.

It drove you wild with need.

You slid your hands into his hair, tugging sharply at his curls to hopefully elicit some sort of response.

“Steven,” you gasped, your knees buckling when his tongue delved into your mouth, sliding against yours. His other hand gripped your thigh, hiking it up around his waist in order for him to press even closer against you.

The space between you was nonexistent, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. This was the Steven that you knew as your lover. The Steven that fucked you hard and fast into the mattress until you were incoherent. The Steven that licked, kissed, and nipped his way up and down every crack and crevice of your body. The one who wasn’t afraid of breaking you.

“I want you.” The words were tenderly pressed to his jaw and you smiled at the shuddered moan he let out—his hips bucking into yours.

“Out here?” he asked incredulously.

While that thought alone was appealing, you knew that he wouldn’t take you against the wall of a building. No, he favored comfort over the neediness of pleasure. He wanted to have you in a place where he could take his time with you. In a way that only made your heart ache for him even more, because no one had treasured you this much before. No one cared for your pleasure above their own before Steven and Marc.

“No.” You smiled, dragging your lips along his lightly. “There’s not enough room out here for that.”

He hummed in agreement against your lips, cupping your cheek lightly and brushing his thumb along the top of it. Hooking your leg even more around his hip, you dragged the evident bulge in his jeans closer, grinding against it to bring out the needy whine from him that you craved. He knew you held as much power over him as he did you and maybe that’s where the core of your pleasure stemmed from. The understanding you held with one another.

He wanted to give into you—wholeheartedly.

“Take me upstairs,” you whispered, moaning softly when his lips dragged along your throat. “Please.”

You threw in the please for your own benefit, feeling particularly needy tonight. Steven however was yanking himself away from you at the word upstairs, grabbing your hand in his and dragging you with him. The alcohol had worn off, leaving a burning desire in your chest to warm your body. Watching as he pushed a hand through his curls, heaving in a deep breath, certainly didn’t help the throbbing between your legs. If anything it made it worse.

Five minutes—and several dirty looks in the elevator—later, you were stumbling through the door of his flat. He locked the door, dropped his jacket on the chair, and was on you within seconds. Tender Steven, loving Steven, began to dissipate to the very back of his mind with every step closer you took towards the bed.

He bit down hard at the top of your right breast, sucking the skin into his mouth and smiling at the cry you let out. Meanwhile you were trying to unbuckle his jeans with shaky hands. The job was harder than you anticipated. Especially when his hand slipped beneath the hem of your dress, his fingers pressing right against your covered clit. Your head fell back as you moaned his name. The underwear you wore was practically soaked through—nothing but thoughts of tonight going through your head all dinner.

“Is all this for me love?” he asked, a slight hint of disbelief tinging the edges of his voice. Steven was always surprised when he found you wet and desperate for him. Almost as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, let alone that you wanted him to be the one inside of you.

“Yes,” you gasped. Stumbling back, you nearly fell into his chair but his arm wrapping tightly around your waist kept you balanced.

“I want—” He paused, raising his head up to see your glazed eyes and swollen lips. His brain short circuited at the sight of you so willing to do what he wanted. If only he could get the words out.

“What do you want?” Your voice was dazed and heady with lust—just like the rest of you.

Steven took in a breath. “I want to taste you. I want you to use me.” He took your hand, leading it up to his jaw, tracing the angular curve of it until you eventually reached his lips.

Your eyes went wide with the realization, the breath catching in your throat, and very briefly Steven came to the conclusion that he made a mistake. That you wouldn’t want to do this with him. So, he tried to backtrack. Wracking his brain for anything to say that would fix this situation.

However, you dragging him to you by the collar of his shirt and roughly pressing your lips against his stopped his panic.

“Yes,” you said, the thought of riding Steven’s mouth, his jaw, all too enticing. “Fuck, I want that too.”

Somehow amidst all the kissing, you found yourself straddling him as he lay back on the bed. You still wore your heels, even your dress, but your underwear had been tossed off to the floor along with his shirt. Steven’s hands gripped your waist, his lips trailing along your shoulder with every roll of your hips onto his. If he hadn’t already told you what he wanted, you’d be sinking down onto his cock, but his request still rang loudly in your mind.

He wanted you to use him. To take your pleasure by sitting on that perfectly sculpted face of his.

You could feel yourself grow wet, your slick spreading on the tops of your inner thighs. Pulling away, you allowed yourself a moment to admire him. To imagine what seeing him between your thighs this way would look like. Steven and you had done your fair share of experimenting with one another, but this…this was new. Something you didn’t know you wanted until he said it out loud.

Climbing up his body, you hiked the skirt of your dress up until it was around your hips. His hands fell to your hips, eyes fixated on your dripping cunt as you pressed your knees on either side of his head. You’d never been so turned on in your life, but this…him, it caused an almost unbearable throbbing between your legs.

“You look…” he trailed off, running his hands around your hips, thumbs spreading you open for him to admire. “Delicious.”

Heat spread rapidly up the back of your neck at just his words alone. How were you ever going to survive him doing this?

“You look pretty,” you replied, pushing a hand into the curls that sat on his forehead. “My pretty boy.”

Steven simpered, his eyes lighting up at the compliment. You wanted to keep admiring him like this—continue to watch transfixed as his tongue ran along his bottom lip. But he wrapped his arms around your thighs, dragging your hips down and sealing his mouth over your cunt. Falling forward with a cry, your hands slapped against the wall behind his bed. It made him smile, his tongue running along your slit and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Fuck Steven,” you gasped, grinding your hips down into his mouth even further. “You’re so good at this. You look so pretty like this.”

His moan was muffled, his eyes falling shut as he sucked on your clit fervently. So much so that your eyes rolled back in your head, your hand shooting down to tug on his hair—hips rolling in short stunted thrusts. You knew you wouldn’t last long, knew that Steven was certainly capable of breaking you apart with just his tongue. Except you willed yourself to last.

Panting his name, you tried to get a hold of the control that quickly slipped away with each stroke of his tongue. Maybe if you pulled away, gave yourself some reprieve, then you’d last longer. But he didn’t like that. His arms became an unbreakable vice that kept your cunt pressed so tight against his mouth you worried you’d suffocate him. Grinding down, you let out an incoherent cry as the final strands in your control began to fray—your release building up in your stomach so tight you were afraid it would break you in two.

“Steven!” His brown eyes fluttered open to meet yours, a moan vibrating against your cunt, and that did you in.

You pressed a hand against the wall, trying to steady yourself while shocks ran up your spine and your thighs shook. The feeling was visceral. It tore through you, roaring like a tidal wave until you were unable to think of anything other than him. He kept going, licking up everything you had to give him and moaning for more. If you hadn’t stopped him with a shaky call of his name he would have certainly driven you to the very brink of insanity.

Funny thing was…you didn’t mind if he did.

On shaky legs you managed to collapse to the side of him, your chest heaving with every breath. But then you looked at him. Saw the dazed look in his eyes and how the bottom half of his face was shiny and wet with your cum. Your cunt clenched around nothing, a whimper leaving your lips.

“I want to do that again,” he said, wiping a thumb along his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth.

How this man didn’t know he was beautiful was beyond you. This sight alone made you want to learn how to paint just to embed his image to the permanency of history.

“Baby,” you breathed, drawing his eyes back to you. “I need you to fuck me.”

He paused, eyes wide with lust and thumb still pressed to his lip. “Anything you want love.”

Reaching out your arms, Steven didn’t need to be told twice before he was laying himself over your. Kissing him, you moaned at the taste of you on his tongue. The night hours were just beginning, the moon barely reaching its highest point in the sky, and you…you were at peace with the man you loved. There was nothing more you could have wanted than simply this.

#steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #my writing #kinktober 2022

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taccobelle · 1 year

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WELCOME TO MY BOOK CLUB 📚

First rule about The Book Club? talk about The Book Club!

Here in TaccoBelle's book club 📚 is where I will keep a collection of all my favorite recent reads and their authors, in no particular order!

I can't always help in more impactful ways, like commissions, but I can definitely share the content!

if you'd like to join my book club give send an ask! let's make a community of these awesome reads!!

Disclaimer: due to some suspicious and disgusting events happening on this site involving a minor, I feel the obligation to reinforce that most, if not all, of these stories are 18+. They contain content that is NOT suitable for minors, so please do not interact! Mature themes will/may be discussed in these stories that is definitely not appropriate for minors.

TaccoBelle's Book Club

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader

Author: @radioactiveparker

Summery: Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently. And when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

What to expect: Enemies to lovers / All Characters Are 18+ / Strong Language / Sex References / Mentions of Abuse (physical and emotional) / Cheating / Bad Relationships / Dysfunctional Families / Arguing / Materialism / Kleptomania / Stereotyping / Sexual Orientations / Drug Use / Mentions of Alcohol / Smoking / Pyromania and Fire / References to Demonianism and Satanism / References to Religious Beliefs / Social Alienation / Angst / Hurt-Comfort / Use of Y/N (like once or twice) / Eddie is a complete asshole

“A/N: This mini series is set in its own little world, so it does not follow the Stranger Things timeline, and I have taken some creative liberties with most characters. Yes, they are all still in high school (final year and 18+), and yes, some of the events don't match up - just forget everything you knew about Stranger Things, it's easier that way haha.”

My thoughts: I am in absolute love with this series and can’t wait for updates ! I am so obsessed with the Breaksfast Club narrative, the enemies to lovers, the popular girl x school freak. It’s so enticing and I am a sucker for it! But what the author does that I am loving is that they set themselves apart from the original movie, js the interaction of the reader with other characters, I won’t spoil it, but it’s a little heartbreaking 💔 from the little that I have read from the 3 chapters so far, it is great!

Not Very Noble

Author: @allthingsjoeq

Summery: Your kingdom is placed under threat of liquidation, the villagers crying out for help as each day they enter greater poverty. As their princess you have been chosen to amend the broken monarchy, creating a truce between the neighbouring royals, and fulfilling a marriage decided by the King. A low-ranking knight and Princess both from reverse backgrounds thrusted together against choice, they descend into a journey of Hate, Lust and Love all while caught in between a circle of lies.

What to expect: Knight Eddie x Princess Reader Disclaimer: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, eventual fluff, light smut to come. Royal and medieval references but they may not all be 100% accurate.

My thoughts: I have a huge fascination with Medieval things, and think there isn’t nearly enough Eddie Munson Medieval themed AU’s and I think that’s a problem! This in particular is so well written, so beautifully put, it made me weep, and cry like a big baby from reading this, and it’s not even complete yet!!!!!! Y’all KNOW how much I buss down for an Enemies to Lovers trope 😩 I really hope they update this soon because I am patiently waiting 🥹

Not Wholly Evil

Author: @uglypastels

Summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

What to expect: "semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

My thoughts: I LOVE me some pirate au, I think it is so incredibly fitting for Eddie to be set in this role. It is still on-going so it only has 2 chapters, but that was enough to make me sign up for the tag list!! It’s is beautifully written, the descriptions are so good it makes me feel like I am IN the Hellfire ship. Super excited to see where this is take me, and I hope they update it soon because it’s my new obsession!

Turtle dove and the crow

Author: @blue-mossbird

Summary: You’ve known Edward Munson since he moved into the farm next door with his uncle - eight years old, odd, and utterly intriguing to you. For ten years, you’ve known him, and over that time, he’s become your best friend. But now, in the dreamy haze of August heat, you begin to know him in a different way. And in this process of knowing and becoming known, lives will be irrevocably changed.

What to expect: 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending. oral (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink.

My thoughts: holy shit my dudes, I think I found my new hyper fixation, to add to the list of stories I will check daily for updates! This is only the first episode and it already has me in a death grip 🫥 I am in love with 1940’s due to Bucky Barnes, and mixing Eddie in with that aesthetic threw me for a loop!! This is not the fic for you if you want cannon content, it is clearly set in another world, a different decade, and seems to me like it’s Eddie’s personality adapted for a 1940’s farm boy view, and I think I’m in love. Plus my fantasy of being a southern Belle (that’s my name if you didn’t know) is in an all time high with this. I can already picture all of the angst and all the crying in my bed at 2am this story will bring me, and I’m so excited 🤩

June Baby

Author: @luveline

Summary: you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors

What to expect: teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is Junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, Eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning, etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slow-burn friends to lovers, you wash Eddie’s hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon

My thoughts: Honest to god, this is one o the best writing I have ever read on this app. The way Jade uses her words to describe the scenes, ughhhhhhh I can't explain, but Jade writes like a scene of a movie. It does not feel like the supporting characters don't feel like they seize to exist as soon as the main characters move on to a different scene. I love how the supporting characters are all incredibly detailed, feel like real people, and have real people reactions to things; weird, I know, haha. I love how much I adore this story so much. it does not feel like a simple fic, like I would invest in a start-up for this to be published into an actual book. It is so good, so sweet. I absolutely adore this story. It makes my heart do three summersaults per second every time Jade posts a new chapter, the characters have my fucking heart 🥺

Meet The Munsons

Author: @mypoisonedvine

Summary: you were barely acquaintances in high school, but his reputation as a delinquent and freak didn't exactly endear you to him. now he's moving in. at the risk of being too literal: oh, brother.

What to expect: kind of incest, but not really? male masturbation, swearing, mentions/implications of a deceased parent, reader is a tad judgmental but that's what character development is for!

My thoughts: I have read and re-read this story about three times. If I'm not mistaken, this is the only complete one on this list. I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! it made me so giddy. a grown woman giggling and kicking my feet like a little girl. I love the evolution of the characters and the way, slowly but surely, their feelings start to slip out, and by the end, you are totally like, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST HOLD HANDS, I BEG OF YOU. Not gonna lie, the "kind of incest" threw me off at first, but then you find out that they aren't actually related in no way possible; the reader's mom marries Uncle Wayne, and they are not raised together, so their not that weird situation of raised like siblings, which would make it really weird when they make out pretty heavily. Can't believe I'm defending incest.

The "Yes" Policy

Author: @pinkrelish

Summary: After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.

What to expect: slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine, but Eddie's just tired, reader and Eddie are mid-late 20's

My thoughts: This fic singlehandedly made me fall in love with the sunshine x grumpy trope, the thought of Eddie being a girl dad makes my heart double in size. Him being a single dad, Wayne being grandpapi is too cute! them doing their best to provide the best for their little princess, and the relationship between Miss Mouse and Adrie has my heart.

To Have and To Scold

Author: @icallhimjoey

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

What to expect: CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

My thoughts: I don’t usually like reading real person fics, like when the character is actually a real life person, I much prefer a fictional character because otherwise sometimes I get weirded out. That being said, I decided to give this fic a try, and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed the story. I picked it up and couldn’t put the phone down till I finished! The characters are engaging, and story is so sweet 🫶🏼

Bad Idea

Author: @lunarzstarz

Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…

What to expect: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread) Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader

My thoughts: smut, plain smut. And I love it. Eddie is kind of a dickhead, not gonna lie, but then he starts to show signs of falling for the reader, regular shmegular lowkey toxic trope, but I love it!!!!

Crayons and Cassettes

Author: @comfort-writing

Summary: You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. She bonds with you instantly, and Eddie is trying not to do the same.

What to expect: his fic will be 18+ in later chapters, so minors DNI! In this chapter, it is mentioned that rumors about Eddie still linger. no use of y/n. I can think of nothing else for this chapter because it’s just an introductory one, but please let me know if I missed anything!

My thoughts: I have not finished this fic yet, but s far it is amazing!! Eddie is so nervous and so sweet, but still nerdy, and charming.

Honey I'm Home

Author: @trashmouth-richie

Summary: you were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

What to expect: enemies to lovers trope, eventual smut, language, crude behavior, Eddie is a fucking menace.

My thoughts: I honestly fell in love with this story, it is so mysterious, and so touching, funny, endearing, and most of all, a big tease. I fell in love with these characters, and their personalities, how they are together, and how the interact with one another. The idea of an older protective Eddie, that is conflicted with the thoughts of seeing Tooty as a little girl, but now she is a grown woman is mesmerizing to read, and Richie does an amazing job at writing it all so well.

Disjointed

Author: @boomhauer

Summary: Nurse!Reader is reunited with her high school crush in the emergency room. Faced with a lifetime worth of debt, she helps Eddie in the only way she can.

What to expect: Fake marriage. Friends to lovers. Medical trauma. Lemon/Smut. Angst. Slow burn. No Vecna!!

My thoughts: This a new type of fic for me, I had never read anything in the nursing realm, an amazing first! I appreciate the reality of it all, from what I understand the author has personally experienced some of these scenarios, and im guessing has been/is a nurse practitioner, so makes for an extremely believable, and amusing plot!!

Twenty Four Hours

Author: @ghost-proofbaby

What to expect: modern!Eddie Munson x fem!reader, uses female pronouns on occasion. strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

Summary: in which Eddie Munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty-four hours consecutively together? modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

My Thoughts: I love Enemies to Lovers trope!! This fic is full of stunning writing, amazing visual descriptions of feelings, and hot-ass characters! this made me cry on multiple occasions, in a good way! Though I am a crybaby. Eddie is such a sweetheart in this, and mean in some chapters, but it's all for the feels!!

Smoke Signals

Author: @eddies-house

What to expect: Grumpy!Eddie Munson x shy!reader, uses female pronouns on occasion, strong language, eventual smut, PTSD, trauma, talks about trauma, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, minors dni, set in a town other than Hawkings

Summary: Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

My Thoughts: I love Enemies to Lovers trope! That much isn't any news to you guys! This fic is so lovely written, I love how real the characters feel, and how immersed I was in reading this, I am so related to the character because I too am a crybaby. Eddie is such a sweetheart in this, I just want Bambi to hug and kiss him 🥹, and mean in some chapters, but it isn't in a toxic sort of way.

Begin Again

Author: @abibliophobiaa

What to expect: Eddie’s post-S4 trauma; panic attacks; nightmares; family member loss; grief; alcohol use; mild smut in later chapters, so 18+; additional warnings to be added. Eddie Munson x afab!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie vibes

Summary: The year is 1988. After the loss of a beloved family member, you find yourself inheriting an old coffee shop. The quiet bartender at the Hideout across the street just so happens to catch your eye.

My Thoughts: you know that I love sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie vibes! This fic is so nicely written, It has long chapters which I fiend for, I absolutely adore it when a fic has 20K words in one chapter, it only has 4 of them because it takes place as a chapter for each season, which is generous btw, wish I'd thought of this!

Beast of Burden

Author: @neonghostlights

What to expect: Fuckboy!Werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Eddie gets called a man-whore (not by reader), mates, cussing, mention of almost hitting an animal with your car (doesn't happen but almost does), parental and grandparent death (readers whole family is dead) 18+ only, minors dni

Summary: (doesn't really have a summary, but this post the author made pretty much sums up) "I’m thinking about fuckboy!werewolf Eddie. Let’s say he’s gotten around with every girl in Hawkins because he never thought he’d have a mate. That was until you, a human, showed up and proved him wrong. Now he has to find a way to prove himself to you."

My Thoughts: yeah! fucking sue me, I like werewolf fanfictions! I can't really blame it all on Twilight, except I absolutely will blame it all on Twilight. But I swear this is really cute, and I live for it!

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ladykinrannoch · 1 year

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Reading - Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.... the stupidity of it all...

It's a Saturday morning here in a sunny and warm Johannesburg. It's time for your weekly royal reading. I have not watched the fakeflix fukumentary but I have seen some news reports that are super critical of the "reality" show. I formulated a five card general reading and read using the Cosmic Tarot, which is the one deck that seems to tune in very easily to situations around the Harkles.

Has the documentary achieved what they wanted?

Seven Swords RX - This is a negative card in the upright meaning deception, thievery etc, so I am going to take that as a no, it has not achieved what they wanted. In fact the card is telling me that the series is doing more harm to their cause than good. In the reverse this is a card of deceptions being exposed, and not in a good way. This fakeflix effort could expose them in a way they never expected.

How do they feel about the UK parliament proposed amendments to the Titles Deprivation Act of 1919?

4 Pentacles - this is a card of assets and hanging onto assets. I feel as if this move by MPs has got them very worried. This is the first effort that might actually succeed in removing the Dukedom and potentially the Prince of the Realm. Historically this Act removed titles from nazi sympathisers because of perceived treason. Not even real evidence of treason, but just the suspicion of treason. The individuals in questions were effectively removed from the family, and the LOS including their descendents forever. Many are calling the fakeflix series as an actual act of treason. And because this Act is not a blanket Act, i.e. not giving wide ranging powers for the deprivation of just any title from any peer on a whim, but closely linked to perceived treason, this one might actually pass through the House of Lords unopposed. They are right to be worried, they should be very very worried, because at the heart of it, while they appear to hate all things British and the royal family, they nevertheless dearly want to hang onto those racist titles.

How do the majority of Britons feel about the Harkles now?

10 Wands - The words that jumped into my mind are they are effing sick to the back teeth of them. This is a card of burden and feeling overwhelmed, it calls on the individual (or individuals) in question to put the burdens down. I feel that the majority of Britons have washed their hands of the Harkles, a real sense of this can't go on. Enough is enough. Read with the preceding card, I have a feeling that their will be very few among the public that would oppose the UK parliament on the deprivation of titles. In fact, a successful deprivation of titles might actually draw a collective sigh of relief!

What are the Harkles doing behind the scenes now?

5 Pentacles RX - in the upright this is the card of exile, financial loss, exclusion and poverty. In the reverse it is a bad omen. It signals a loss of faith in yourself, in relationships and institutions. It is almost as if they are not really doing anything right now, except feeling even more sorry for themselves. It has an energy of hopelessness. They are very worried, this card is making me feel sick to my stomach, that horrible dread feeling you get when you think what the hell have I done?

Outcome

Knight of Swords - this is the stress and truth card. As an individual this represents someone who is driven and prepared to fight for beliefs. But in a work situation like this, pertaining to work done by the Harkles, it represents lawyers, auditors, consultants, particularly those who are hired to fire and not fix. I feel like this situation has crossed the point of being fixed. The sword of Damacles springs to mind.

Dionysius the Elder who was condemned to sit under a naked sword that was suspended by a hair in order to demonstrate to him that being a king was not the happy state Damocles had said it was. This is a cutting energy, so I feel here that it represents the parliamentarians, the law makers and the power that they wield. I think it signals that the Titles Deprivations Act amendments will succeed. On a second front, it could represent lawyers hired by Netflix to end the contract with the Harkles. They could be fired by Netflix after next weeks release. Either way the outcome of the "documentary" is not what they imagined and it is not a good outcome.

Underlying energy

The Fool - this is immature, childish energy and this card comes with the warning, Look before you Leap. This is the card of foolishness, ill-considered risks. It signals the beginning of a new path. The fool dances on the edge of a precipice, so it is risky energy that suggests one wrong move and he could fall into the abyss. This is a time of great risk for Harkles, it could go either way, but I am inclined to say they have been very very foolish and it is the beginning of the end. I am hearing Fools rush in, where angels fear to tread. This is a dire warning to the Harkles.

I drew a clarifier on whether they are about to axed by Netflix?

8 Pentacles RX - in the upright this card says hard work pays off and brings rewards that are due. In the reverse, it suggests that their hard work brings an unexpected result. I think getting fired by Netflix is a real possibility.

Conclusion

By their own hand, the Harkles have placed themselves in the most precarious position, they are on the verge of losing absolutely everything. Losing respect, their remaining followers, their deals, their titles, their links to the family. The only way this could be worse is if the Tower showed up.

I shuffled and cut the deck again and got a series of negative cards, but no Tower, and then I looked at the bottom of the deck and what should be there? THE TOWER!

#royal reading #tarot

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golden-knights-of-the-realm · 28 days

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I will say one thing about this game, penalty kill was insane tonight as the Golden Knights managed to kill five Jets penalties. There were quite a few missed calls like a high stick on Dorofeyev and a tripping on Kolesar that wasn’t called. I will say that I was very surprised that the elbowing from Hague was not a major penalty.

Thompson was incredible tonight and the only one that got past him was over his shoulder after he was screened and it was a deflection as well. He made some great saves!

There was a goal that I thought was going to go in by the Jets late in the game and I breathed a huge sigh of relief as the Jets player missed the net, especially since Thompson had slid in the other direction.

Dorofeyevs goal was a rebound goal as he took a shot and then scored on his own rebound. I literally had just told my sibling that he has been good this season and when I turn back to the tv he scored. This goal was assisted by Karlsson!

The second goal from the Golden Knights was from Barbashev and that goal is what really got the Knights and Jets energized as the Jets were already angry from Hague elbowing one of their players. This goal was assisted by Mantha and Whitecloud.

The third Golden Knigts goal was scored by Barbahsev. It was an empty net goal and his second of the period!

The Jets went empty net again and this time Eichel scored and sealed the win.

The Golden Knights looked a little sluggish in the second period and the Jets had a ton of shots on goal that made me nervous but in the end the Knights came out on top.

I swear that this game made my blood pressure rise in panic. We definitely needed this regulation win after losing to the Predators on Tuesday. There are a few area to work on (not going to mention the power play) like some minor defense and working on controlling the puck to avoid turnovers.

So far we have secured 5 points in the first three games of this roadtrip, one more road game to go for this trip.

Final score 4-1!

We have now won 40 games this season.

The Golden Knights have now moved above the Kings to take the third spot in the Pacific. Keeping this spot will come down to the Kings losing to the Oilers tonight.

The next game is on Saturday against the Wild! I wonder if Thompson will start in net for this one as well, I assume he will since the Wild are close to a wildcard position after the Blues.

9 games remain in the regular season!

Photo Credit: Golden Knights Twitter

#nhl #nhl hockey #hockeyblr #hockey #ice hockey #nhl players #hockey players #vegas golden knights #vgk #vgk hockey #vgk lb #golden knights #golden knights hockey #golden knights lb #vegas golden knights hockey #vegas golden knights vs winnipeg jets #vegas golden knights on

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formosusiniquis · 1 year

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Hello your friendly neighborhood children’s librarian bringing you the most retired rockstar/dad!Eddie book ever. All images are from My Dad Used to Be So Cool by Keith Negley (which you should check out if you can get your hands on a copy from your library, there are some great illustrations that I didn’t include.)

Anyway post Vecna Eddie and Corroded Coffin get semi-big. Nothing wild, they aren’t the next Metallica but they do well enough to go on a Nationwide (plus Canada) tour, they put out a couple of albums, get some radio play. They aren’t a household name, but they’re beloved by the people in the scene and in the know. It’s a good life, more than a young Eddie could have ever hoped for. It’s the mid-90s and their initial contract is coming to a close, Eddie and the guys have a decision to make: are they going to resign and try to make it even bigger or are they going to finish out their run, do a couple of farewell shows and quietly retire.

Eddie and Steve have been a thing since the first Corroded Coffin EP dropped. Eddie’s heart is in his lyrics and Steve has been their biggest fan since Eddie left Hawkins to make it big. Long distance has been hard. So hard. But Eddie comes home to a tiny apartment in Indianapolis that Steve and Robin share every chance he can. He’s written every album since the first one at the battered wooden kitchen table that Robin saved from the curb. Steve goes to the shows that he can and Eddie comes back to Indianapolis every chance he gets, but as Steve starts his social work job it becomes a lot harder to go to shows more than a couple hours away.

There’s a decision to make. Eddie and the band are in Chicago meeting with their agent for what might be the last time when he gets a page from Steve: SOS. Eddie is panicked when he gets to the phone, calling Steve’s work phone like he was told and expecting the worst. The Upside Down is back, Robin has been hurt, Dustin has been hurt, Steve has been hurt. It’s worse, when Steve answers with a calm, “Steve Harrington speaking.”

“Don’t ‘Steve Harrington speaking’ me, what the hell!”

“Eddie! I’ve got the best news.”

Now he’s got two decisions to make. A coworker of Steve’s has a baby that needs a home, five months old with a dead mom and a deadbeat dad and the story is a little too familiar for Eddie who knows how important stability is for a kid. “Her name is Christina, Eddie, I think it’s meant to be.”

Eddie has become a big believer in fate. He’s got two decisions to make today, they might be the easiest decisions that he’s ever made.

Eight years fly by. Eddie had squirreled away most of his Corroded Coffin money and with Steve’s salary he’s able to stay home with Chris most of the time. He’s mellowed out over the years, Wayne had warned him when they first brought Christina back to the little two bedroom they purchased that fatherhood changed you and he could see it now. His hair is shorter, his sweetheart spends more time hanging on the wall than it does in his hands, he has become a lot more acquainted with the vacuum cleaner then he had in his wild youth.

It’s a Saturday and Stevie has gotten called in to handle an emergency placement leaving Chris and him to have a daddy/daughter day. Chris giggles the way kids do when Steve leaves with a kiss to her forehead and eliciting a promise that she'll keep dad out of trouble. One part pleased at the responsibility, one part disbelief that dad could be cool enough to be trouble at all.

"Alright my knight errant, you've accepted your quest from King Daddy. Now you've got to help me clean the house if you're going to keep me out of trouble."

"Will I get a reward? I think this quest is worth a bajillion gold."

She squeals and giggles, a sound that could break him from Vecna's curse, as Eddie picks her up from her chair at the table and spins her round and round. "I think you should stop listening to Uncle Dustin. How about we go to the park, is that a fitting reward?"

“Those terms are acceptable.”

“And less time with Auntie Erica, jeebus kiddo.”

Christine Harrington-Munson knows that cleaning the house is really code for making sure all her toys are picked up off the floor so Dad can clean the floors. Which they are, she’s a lot more like Daddy in that respect. She likes to have her dolls and ponies lined up in rows where she can see them when they aren’t having adventures; her jewelry from her Aunts is in the jewelry box that they gave her. So she follows Dad around the house while he cleans up his mess. Shoes kicked into the closet with the drumset, little statues from his game he plays with her uncles go back into his office. The one with the posters on the walls that Daddy made Dad frame, that have Dad’s face on him from when he was young before she was born. He’s all screamy and sweaty and he’s got eyeliner on like Aunt Robin wears. She’s pretty sure Dad used to be in a band.

Her friends from school say she’s lucky cause she got a cool dad when she got adopted. She knows which dad they’re talking about; Daddy works more than Dad does, has to help other kids who are waiting to get adopted or who can’t live with their grownups anymore, so Dad is the one who usually picks her up from school when he gets done doing the mid-morning radio show.

She doesn’t really get it.

Dad is kinda lame. He’s cooler than Katie’s dad who always snores on the couch whenever she’s over. He’s definitely cooler than Mikey’s mom who always makes faces when Dad picks her up from school in short sleeves. He’s a billion, million times cooler than Shelby’s dad who said something to Daddy the one time they had a sleepover and now Shelby’s parents are getting divorced. But saying Dad is cooler than them is like saying that Barbie is cooler than Skipper, he always sings his dad music when they’re cleaning the house together and he does silly voices when they’re talking together.

So maybe he used to be cool a hundred years ago when he was the guy in those posters, but now he’s just Dad. Something must have happened ‘cause Uncle Lucas is still really cool and so are Aunt Max and Aunt Robin.

Cleaning the house with Dad always goes a lot faster than it does with Daddy. Once the floors have been vacuumed and the counters are cleared they’re in the van headed to their favorite park.

The other moms and dads hang out by the benches watching their kids run around. Dad reaches the edge where the grass stops and the mulch starts and pauses, he bends down into a bow. “As promised my faithful knight, your reward. We’ve got an hour here before we go see if Daddy can take a break for lunch.”

“Can I give you a quest? Can we find a dragon before we go to Daddy?”

“A noble quest, my lady.” He uses one of his silly voices, one that sounds like a fancy grandpa. She knows he always tries to wrestle with her when he uses that voice, but even then he gets an arm wrapped around her before she can run across the yard. He swings her around and tosses her, “a head start on our quest, m’lady.” She lands with the bent knees and forward roll that Aunt Max taught her.

Dad chases her around the park for the full hour, letting her lead them through bushes and into the playground tunnels. He points out tracks that might belong to their dragon, says he’ll be her wizard if she carries the sword, Dad finds a stick and presents it to her like it’s a weapon. He sweeps her up when it’s time for lunch, “Noble knight, we must not get lost on our quest for the dragon. We must obtain sustenance and we can return later with aid from our King.”

She rides back to the car on his shoulders, times like these she can almost see what her friends mean when they say that he’s cool. “Dad, can we get a dog?”

The music in the car is quiet, but the guitar is sharp and bright. He bobs his head up and down in time with it, catching her eyes in the rear view mirror as he does, “I think that’s a talk Daddy needs to be part of too, Chris. Give him those sad eyes and I bet he says yes.” He turns the radio up a little more, one of those softer songs that he spins Daddy around the kitchen to is on, “We can bring it up at lunch if you want, ladybug, but you gotta take care of it if he says yes. A dog is a big responsibility.”

Yeah, no, she still doesn’t get why anyone would think that her Dad was cool.

#steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #dad eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #steve harrington #social worker steve harrington #i saw the cover for this book at work and the brain rot hit so hard #and i was immediately right #anyway pick it up if you can there are some really cute equally eddie coded pictures #alternatively they could be punk steve #either way the book is about a little boy but steddie are absolutely girl dads so

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xthelastknownsurvivorx · 4 months

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2023 Writing Roundup

Thanks @inexplicablymine for the tag! This was a lot of fun to do

January

Satisfied (Never Have Been, Never Will Be) — RWRB, T, 833

Or, a rewrite of the lyrics of "Satisfied" from Hamilton set at the beginning of Philip and Martha's wedding, except Alex is a little flirtier and a little less repressed, told from Henry's pov.

February

Some Element of Mystery — RWRB, M, 4k

Or, five times that Alex thought Henry was a stripper, plus one time Henry corrected him. Written for the informal stripper!Henry fest.

March

Was working on finishing my master's thesis instead of fic for the most part, though I did write a few drabbles and make progress on my reincarnation au (see November)

April

Burn (They're Watching Us/I Hope That They) — RWRB, T, 295

Or, a rewrite of the lyrics of "Burn" from Hamilton, set immediately after the email leak, told from Alex's pov.

May

Graduated/finished my master's 🎉🎉 while also writing more of my reincarnation au (see November), including some major revisions

June

Got sick for part of the month, then spent the rest of it furiously working on my brownstone anniversary exchange fic (see July) doing tons of (probably unnecessary) research about Saturday Night Live and royal weddings.

July

SNL | Season 45 Episode 2 | HRH Prince Henry & FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz — RWRB, M, 9k

Or, the fic in which I said bet and sent firstprince onto Saturday Night Live instead of having Alex go to London for a weekend. Written for the Brownstone Anniversary Fic Exchange.

August

Spent the month trying to make a lot of progress on reincarnation au (see November) and finally got some betas

September

Had a bad case of writer's block for most of the month, then went insane and wrote something for firstprince week (see October) despite promising myself I wasn't going to participate

October

Not a Day I Don't Miss (Those Rude Interruptions) — RWRB, T, 2k

Or, a Henry character study set during the week following Henry running from the lake house, loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's "Last Kiss". Written for firstprince week.

November

Red, White, and Royal Switcheroo — RWRB, T, 6k

Or, a body swap au set during Alex's "make nice" trip to England in which Alex and Henry have to play at being each other, and Alex discovers Henry's role is, in fact, very much not much easier to play. Written for Halloween, Huh?

Every Time My Heart Swings Back to You — RWRB, M, ~90k (ongoing)

Or, a reincarnation au set mostly in the modern era with college students Alex and Henry trying to piece together the story of their past lives as a knight and a prince through a series of non-linear flashbacks.

December

Trying my best to finish reincarnation au while also plotting out a very ambitious fic for a new fandom (mysterious lotus casebook) that I'll be trying to tackle in 2024. Also the month I got super into cdramas/c-ent.

Wow, compiling all this made me realize I wrote a whole lot more than I thought: posting 9 stories and writing around 50k new words! I also participated in a lot more fan events than ever before and finally begin sharing the story that's been living in my brain and docs only for almost three years. All in all, a very satisfying year for me while also looking forward to new projects in 2024~

I'm probably one of the last wants to get to this but tagging a few others who I don't think have done this (let me know though if you have) @14carrotghoul @formorewishes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @celeritas2997 @cricketnationrise, plus open tag because I'd love to see anyone else's writing year in review~

#writing round up #2023 writing round up #tag game

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writingcold · 9 months

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Hi there - welcome to chapter 5! If you’ve not been reading, you can find the master list here. I decided to do a bonus post. I love this chapter. I needed Mr. Jacob to come back.

What did you think about our last chapter? I think our friends are quite lovely. We have a lot that happens in this chapter.

This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine. Please do not take it for your own personal use. I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story. But it is mine.

Thank yous go out to @lvnterninthenight @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake

Content Warnings: Some angst and verbal arguing, Sam X Susannah smut. Oh my. Minors DNI.

Word count: approx. 8500

Chapter Five: Permanent Post, Junie’s Wedding - Cora

Cora arrived in town at 7:20 in the morning. The dark blue material of the outfit that Molly insisted that she keep back for Saturday, swished against her calves as the breeze had picked up. She came to a stop before the shop door, clutch held calmly at her side. She had barely slept: between her sister’s fear of her pending nuptials and speaking to Mr. Kiszka, her brain stirred with thoughts every few minutes. Poor Junie flinched and jittered throughout the night. Her dreams were plagued by the unknown of what she was to be as a wife to Mr. Archer. If there was a way to shield her from her mother’s decision, Cora would have gladly been her knight and savior.

Hearing the door’s bell ring behind her, she turned to greet her employer who stood with his typical toothy smile and warm eyes.

“Good morning, sir,” she said brightly.

He admitted her and she moved directly to the register to place her light coat and purse down in the cabinet. He politely waited for her to settle before he started to speak.

“I have been impressed, Miss Janas, by your work this past week. You are a very quick study,” he said with his formal tone.

“Thank you, Mr. Kiszka,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Thanks to your new friend Molly, you have certainly grasped the expectation of attire as well,” he continued. “I must say, however, I’m disappointed that you have utilized the kindness of my brothers this week.”

Her brows flinched, but she was able to keep any other emotion from surfacing. Keeping her voice friendly, she said, “I can only blame my own ignorance, sir, that I did not fully realize the need for better shoes for the posting. If you have decided to keep me, my priority will be to rectify the issue as soon as possible.”

“You’re very well-spoken for a farm girl,” he observed.

“My father placed high importance on education, Mr. Kiszka. He taught my sister and me to teach the other children of our family, not just to read but to enjoy a wide range of academia.”

Mr. Kiszka nodded with a thoughtful look. “Have you had any formal schooling?”

Her cheeks colored against her wishes. “No, sir. Not school proper - just my father. He did attend normal school, though. He was a professor at a small college for a while.”

“Sounds like you received a proper enough education,” he remarked, the same thoughtful expression playing in his eyes. “Aside from literature, what other subjects did he educate you in? Mathematics? Sciences?”

“Arithmetic certainly. He had me helping with the farm accounting before he passed, sir.”

“You have bookkeeping experience?”

“Yes, sir, but just the kind to keep the farm-”

“No different than a business, Miss Janas. I’m impressed all the more.” He glanced at the large clock above her head, then checked it against his fancy gold pocket watch. “I see no reason to continue your training post. You have exceeded my humble expectations.”

Her smile instantly brightened the space around her. “Thank you, Mr. Kiszka.”

“You are welcome.” He moved towards the register to begin morning duties.

“Sir, I do have one question,” she said as she reached for her apron. “Are employees allowed to purchase goods?”

“Pardon?”

“It would save a trip to town for my mother if I could purchase our few needs here in town. Of course, I expect to pay the full price, but-”

“Oh,” he said sharply. After a moment of thought, he nodded. “Of course. Place the items you need near your personal items - there should be room in that cabinet. We’ll deduct it from your wages.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a nod.

�� Renee walked through the door as he returned his attention back to setting up the cash drawer. The girl’s eyes flicked to their employer before looking at her with questions in her eyes. Cora grinned with a nod as her only conveyance that she was a permanent hire. She settled into straightening and stocking the dry goods. Renee worked on the display cases of baked goods. By the time Mr. Kiszka opened the doors for customers, she knew it was going to be a busy day. He retreated to his office with a “ladies” and a nod.

The morning was fairly typical, lots of customers at first, then backing off midday to allow them time for cleaning, stocking and ten minutes each for lunch. Cora took the reprieve to clean the wound on her foot, amazed that there was no pain as she unwrapped the bandages. She reapplied the salve and rewrapped the wound in between bites of bread and butter.

The afternoon was busier than ever. Cora found herself up and down the ladders. Her foot was beginning to tire and stiffen, but she pushed herself. Now that she survived the trial period, it meant that she would have to buckle down and hone whatever skills that she could to ensure that her tenure in the shop was never in question.

It was nearing five o’clock when the door swung open to admit Mr. Samuel and Mr. Daniel. She was up on the ladder reaching for a bolt of fabric when Jacob's voice struck her ear. She paused only for a moment, forcing herself not to stop or even to look in the direction she thought he would be in. Instead, she made her way back to the ground to finish her task, the hem of her skirt swishing around her calves.

As she turned, she caught sight of him as he was closing the door to the office. The heat coming off his face told her that there was an issue, however, there was a twinge in his eyes that made her stop completely. Nobody had ever looked upon her in such fashion. It was like he was seeing something within her that she could not cover and hide. Before she could analyze further, he had closed the door and broken the spell that may have only lasted seconds, but she felt like it would be a lifetime to really discern the meaning.

Minutes before six, Mr. Samuel and Mr. Daniel strolled out of the office. Samuel looked particularly tight, like he was trying to figure out the hardest problem in the county. Daniel, however, took a moment to share a smile as they made their way back out of the shop. Renee was just finishing up sweeping, while Cora was aiding a gentleman with a large order to carry out his goods and wares. She was lifting the last of the crates of dry foods for the man when she spied the twins at the back of the store. Stepping out to the man’s wagon, she smiled warmly. When she returned to the shop, Mr. Kiszka was handing Renee her wages for the week with a handshake.

Cora's eyes were drawn back to the office door, but did not see Jacob anywhere. Taking off the apron, she started to settle herself up for leaving. She drew close to Mr. Kiska and pulled up the few items she had selected and an empty potato sack.

“This is all you need, Miss Janas?” Mr. Kiska asked, eyeing the three cans of corn, two sacks of beans, two tins of dried beef, two jars of beets, a small sack of flour, a brick of lard and a few pieces of penny candy for them to indulge in.

She knew the items would come out to $1.10. She nodded as he was writing the ticket for her. He reached into the drawer and withdrew two dollar bills. When he tried to give her the money, she withdrew her hand.

“I’m sorry, sir, that was not the agreed upon wage,” she said, her brows pinching. “With my items removed from my earnings, I should only receive seventy cents, Mr. Kiszka.”

The smell of a fresh lit cigarette filled her nose and nearly distracted her. Mr. Kiszka tilted his head as his eyes moved to Jacob who was moving behind her.

“And if I say the extra is a tip?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I would say that is not the agreed upon wage and a dollar thirty would be too generous to be considered a tip,” she said with a nod.

He smiled, but this time it was not the toothy smile he used in his business transactions. It was warm. Genuine. “She’s quite sharp, isn’t she, Jacob? Very well, Miss Janas. I appreciate your honesty but I insist you take at least this to call your week square with me.”

He took back one of the dollars. She nodded and took it, although did not feel good about the extra thirty cents. Cora smiled as she put the items into the empty potato bag.

“We will see you here eight sharp Monday, Miss Janas,” Mr. Kiszka remarked as he started walking back towards his office. “You did really good work this week.”

She put away her apron and retrieved her clutch before turning to find Jacob waiting for her at the main door. He smiled as she came out from behind the counter.

“Are you ready?” he asked, taking her sack of goods to carry.

She nodded. They walked from the shop out into the crisp evening. Her hand was tucked in the crook of his elbow as they moved together. His car was waiting out on the boulevard. She watched as he opened the door for her, setting her bag behind the seat before holding his hand out for her.

Straight home. Jacob, unlike his younger sibling, drove straight to her home. She did not have to remind him where to turn. She did not have to remind him her family was waiting for her. For the briefest of moments, Cora felt a little sad that her short time with Jacob was over.

She watched as he slipped out his door and walked to her side. Their eyes met when he held his hand out for her to take.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” she said, noticing that he did not let go of her hand right away.

He smiled almost shyly, the evening light catching in his features. “Thank you for allowing me to bring you home.”

Cora watched as he reached around her to retrieve her grocery items, then held out his elbow for her to take. Before they took a step, she paused.

“I’ve been remiss, Jacob. Thank you for talking to Mr. Kiszka about my posting. I cannot believe he has made the position permanent.”

“That was all you. I never was able to speak with him. You honestly impressed him.”

She felt a blush cross her cheekbones as he grinned at her. Her heart began to pound as he started to walk her to the door.

“Perhaps I will see you tomorrow during church services,” he said, his tone was warm, simple.

Cora looked at him. She had not realized that he had noticed her on Sundays. He never seemed to see anything about her before.

“I’m sure,” she said with a nod. “My sister marries tomorrow after regular services.”

“Oh, happy celebration then.”

She hesitated and his smile dimmed. “No, you’re right. Happy celebration.”

“I was not aware you had an older sister.”

“No. It’s my younger sister, actually.”

His brows pinched together like he was troubled. “I see.”

She felt the corners of mouth twitch. When Cora looked up at him, she certainly tried to hide the hurt for her Junebug, but he saw it. He looped one finger through her own and gave it a squeeze. He handed her the sack of groceries before he stepped back.

The door opened revealing her mother. Jacob nodded to her with a pleasant “good night”. Cora watched as he walked away. Her body yelled at her to follow, but she turned towards her mother’s solemn form, handing her the sack of goods and the dollar she made.

“At least that man had the sense to get you home for supper,” she remarked coldly.

Cora looked out at the automobile. He had cranked the engine and was looking back at her from behind the wheel. She held her hand up and he mirrored her before she moved inside the home. The children were all at the table waiting. Junie was filling the bowls with thin chicken stew. Matthew, Jonathan, and George watched her as she hung up her light jacket to reveal the expensive material of her dress. Junie grinned as she sat down, though the lightness of her expression waned in a quick fashion.

Once they were all seated, they prayed and ate in silence. Cora’s mind was on the night before that she had shared with her new friends. She played the conversation through her mind. It was a foreign concept to her that eating and interacting could be enjoyable and fun. The joy they showed each other made her smile inwardly. She found herself wondering if Jacob behaved like Samuel at meals - animated and happy, talking about the picture show or a piece of music he had heard, or perhaps even a story he had read.

The curve of his red lips as he smiled echoed across her memory. The way that curve appeared each time her eyes met his made her skin warm and her cheeks blush. Clearing her throat, she sat up straighter and refocused on her simple meal.

Looking over to her mother, another memory struck her mind. One that drew her back before her father went to Europe to fight in that horrific war. The memory was brief, probably lasted for a few moments, but it was startling in the way it struck her. It was back when it was just her parents, herself, Junie, and Matthew. There had been laughter. Her father would tell them stories as they would eat. His features would light with love and caring when he looked across his whole family as they hung on to each and every of his words. That light was extinguished before he returned home. Cora would always remember that the man that called himself her father had lost his grit years before his demise. Cora noticed that her sister pushed around the stew in her bowl. Whatever glimmer a bride should have in her before her wedding was not present. Her mother had known some kind of happiness in her marriage. The notion of not allowing her daughter to know that kind of emotion stabbed at her. She wondered how long Rosemary would keep the yoke of the family in place on herself - until Matthew was old enough to earn a wage? Until all the boys were gone? Her mother did not hide the fact that she kept Cora from leaving to marry because she could not support the boys alone.

The need to cry was overwhelming. She realized that her mother was shunning her daughters from joy, just in two different manners. To marry off Junie to a much older man ensured the girl would have a relationship that would never be equal. Keeping Cora close to ensure she was viewed as too old to marry and keep her a spinster, void of knowing love. A flash of mixed emotions crashed through her. A glance to her mother, especially in the silence, would have sent her into a rage. A look at Junebug would have sent her into despair. Instead, she closed her eyes and moved inward.

Jacob sitting in the Earl, his dark eyes upon her. She should have run right back at him. She should have told him to drive anywhere, just take her with him. She was very aware that it was nothing but girlish fantasy, but the thought kept her from flying apart amongst the muted clanks and scrapes that was the only sound of their meal. Her body felt the flame of her anger towards her mother and the iciness of sorrow for her sister. Her mind provided her only escape - images of her week in the shop and the evolution of how Jacob looked upon her scrolled through her thoughts. Frivolous lines of poetry began to pair with each frame, just like the picture show that her mother had allowed her to take Junie to for her birthday the previous autumn.

“Junie, if you’re not going to finish…”

Cora did not hear what her mother said as she continued to speak. She instead looked at her sister who appeared defeated, head hanging forward. The dread in the poor girl’s eyes did nothing to move their mother. Reaching over, Cora took the bowl and rose up from the table to take care of it. Rosemary scoffed, but she ignored her. The boys were sent to go prepare for bed under their mother’s care, leaving the sisters alone.

Cora allowed Junie to stay at the table. The girl’s soft cries did not go unnoticed. With care, she wrapped her arms around her sister’s frail shoulders, discovering she was trembling in her effort to stay quiet.

“Oh, Junebug,” she whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Her mother’s derisive snort from behind them made them both freeze. Slowly, Cora rose up, keeping her hands on Junie’s shoulders. “Why all this bother? Mr. Archer is the president of the Northern Trust bank. He may not be a terribly rich man, but tomorrow night, you will be living in a nice home with food in your belly,” Rosemary said without covering the edge of her impatience. “Your situation will be very much improved. Even better than the plans that Cora thinks she has for the rest of us.”

Cora felt her rage step to the fore. Her skin sizzled from its heat. “How can you be like this towards your daughter? You can see Junie is frightened and you act like she should waltz into this situation like she asked for it.”

“Scared of what? A house that won’t flood when it rains and won’t be cold in the winter? Or maybe it’s the real food that she will be able to prepare? Oh. I know what it is,” her mother groused as the girls watched her incredulously. “She must be afraid of having nice clothes and a respectable position in town? Everything that you seem to be aiming for, Cora Rosemarie.”

Cora swallowed hard. “She’s afraid of not being loved,” she said, surprised she was able to form the words.

To further her surprise, her mother barked out a laugh. It was harsh and horrible, distorting her features. She glanced at Junie before sliding her hand into her sister’s.

“Love? What a stupid girl you are, Cora. There is no such thing - not for people like us.”

“You and Papa had it,” she whispered as Junie’s body pressed up against her back.

Her mother fell quiet, her eyes empty. “Tolerance is what your father and I had. Forget about what your Papa let you read in those storybooks, because there is no such thing. He was a fool to let you think otherwise.”

The girls folded against each other. Junie pressed her cheek against Cora’s shoulder blade as she sobbed. Cora bit into her lip trying to hold back her own tide, but failed.

“Get supper cleaned up and get to bed, both of you. I don’t want to see either of you until dawn.”

Rosemary stomped out of the house leaving them sniffling behind her. Cora, in her fury, lashed out at the air before wiping at her face.

“Junebug,” she said, voice rough. “Come on, Junie.”

The younger girl flinched as Cora pulled out her hanky and began to dry her cheeks.

“Come on, Junie, it’s going to be well,” she said with more determination. “Let’s get this taken care of before she comes back.”

Mechanically, they cleaned the tiny kitchen. Cora’s heart sloshed around painfully as she watched Junie. It was as if the light was dimming right out of her. She took a moment to change the wrapping on her foot like Jacob wanted her to before they prepared for bed. She heard her mother walk back inside just as they lay down. Junie allowed her to pull her body in close, holding on to each other as exhaustion overtook them. She closed her eyes in hopes of avoiding her mother. Instead, she drifted into a shallow sleep, aware of Junie's soft cries.

Chapter Five: Pt. 2, Susannah

She smiled at the news. Cora had won Joshua over on her own merit, that was something to be happy about. What they did for her was nothing but window dressing, but it was what it would always be - an extension of friendship.

The sight of her walking from the store to Jacob’s car in the early evening made her heart trip a bit. She watched from the upper window of the dancehall with Molly at her side. The dark blue of her dress matched that of his car, a nice touch on Molly’s part, and one that did not go unnoticed by Jacob, she was sure.

The way he kept his eyes on her, the touch of his hand on her elbow as they crossed the street, the smile as he held the door for her. It was as natural as breathing. Molly was rambling on, but she could not look away from the spectacle of Cora and Jacob. She wondered if either of them realized the shine that they gave off when they were near each other.

“It would be one too many meddling incidents to help that situation out, wouldn’t it?” she sighed as the auto moved out of sight.

Molly’s grin made her feel squishy. “I don’t think there’s going to be any meddling needed in that case, love.”

Standing up, she went to the wardrobe to dig through the costumes for her shift. Her head swam with ideas, but the edge of not wanting to interfere with what would obviously happen naturally if left alone was very present.

“Any of the black numbers tonight,” Molly called from the door. “Remember, Joshua wanted us to match the formal attire.”

She rolled her eyes. Susannah pulled the black dress with the slit that would end directly on her hip bone and the plunge of the neckline ended at her bellybutton. She grinned at the memory of the last time, and only time, she had worn the satin number. Samuel lost every shred of control by the end of the night and it was days before either one surfaced in the world.

Hair perfect with the flawless curl against her cheek and ostrich feather tickling her bare shoulder; makeup in place, and the final touches of the stark white gloves, Susannah was ready like she was going to battle. Hiking down the private stairs that would lead her all the way to the speakeasy, she hummed softly to the faint music that would welcome her like an old friend the moment she slipped into the cramped space.

The dance floor was empty, save for Molly, who strutted and swirled and romped her sinful frame to the wonderment of everyone who would watch. Her eyes strayed back to the table where Joshua would hold court for his family, only to find that he sat with Catherine in a frosty frame of a picture. She watched as Josh turned to look at the woman, his face void of emotion. There was a single word that crossed his mouth before she stood, mouth pursed. Susannah would swear she just witnessed Catherine being cut away from the eldest Kiszka’s side, but when her eyes drifted back to Molly, she second guessed herself.

Catherine walked past her without a word. The woman’s eyes looked destroyed. Susannah watched as the woman slipped through the door to the stairs and the relief that washed over her made her smile. Done. She could hear Josh say it - crisp and final. She was so focused on events beyond the floor that she missed her cue.

Molly, ever in step, had her sexy stroll turned on and moved before her with a sultry sway of her hips.

“Ready, baby girl?” she asked loudly, ensuring those around them heard.

Susannah blushed, but only for a moment. “Take me out, Mama.”

Molly grasped her hands, making a show of pulling her out to the main floor to cheering and wolf whistles. She blew her friend a kiss as Molly twirled away at the closing notes of her own number. Susannah retreated her thoughts to a quiet space, filled with tall grasses and the sound of a creek that she visited with Sammy the autumn prior. It held the magic that would protect her from how her body worked through suggestive slides and luxuriant poses that showed her body in a manner that would make most women blush. The music drove her muscles through it while her brain pictured her laying in the grass, her Sammy kissing her gently under the waning afternoon sunshine. And before she knew it, her dance would be over.

She felt her chest rise and fall as she gasped for breath. The crush of people were clapping for her as she peeled herself from the floor. The sticky heat of the room mixed with the clammy feel that she was always left with when her performance was complete. Sam was waiting at the edge, a drink in hand waiting for her. With the strength she had left, she sauntered over, making sure her long legs were seen along with the lacy garter and flash of her breast that had fallen from the security of her gown, as if it were a mistake. People were so gullible and easily shocked, parting with their money to tip the poor girl who’s routine was always mired in some kind of slip that exposed her in some manner.

He did not say a word. He only handed her the drink - whiskey, neat. His eyes were nearly black, his body taut. She sipped at the velvety liquid, her eyes steady on her man as he licked at his bottom lip.

“Hey, daddy,” she whispered, her voice low and sensual.

It was the breaking point she needed. He latched onto her wrist, glass falling to the floor. He did not even bother to make sure she was decent before they were falling out onto the street. Susannah’s heels clanked on the boards of the walkway quickly as she tried to keep up with the man’s long strides. He pulled her all the way to her home, shoving through the door and kicking it closed behind them as his hands grasped her arms, shoving her towards the bedroom.

“You think you can do that and not pay my toll, girlie?” he asked as he practically ripped his coat off.

“I love when you’re so needy,” she cooed, taking down the zipper of her dress.

He huffed as his vest, followed by his dress shirt, hit the floor. “I’m not the one flaunting my titties all over like I need to be fucked proper.”

“While that may be so,” she said as he kicked off his shoes, “I’m not the one walking around with a bone the size of Texas, darling.”

“That cock is about to split you in half,” he nearly growled as he watched as her dress fell to a pool at her feet. “Keep the heels on.”

He tore her panties away, leaving the pretty garters, stockings and her shoes on. She nipped at his neck as he slid out of his pants to reveal his dick, hard as rock and seeking her warmth. He gripped her by the hips and pushed to the bed to sit. She started to wiggle back, but he stopped her. He bent, grabbing hold of one ankle and extending it up until it rested on his shoulder. He leaned in, his large hand coming down against her cunt, pinching and pulling at her clit until she hissed.

“Let it go, sugar,” he whispered, his lips against her neck.

Two fingers pressed into her entrance and her body quaked as his tongue lapped against the fragile skin beneath her ear. He was so deft at bringing her to climax. He coaxed it from her. He bent his fingers just so, kissed her just right and the combination of having her melt at his feet was complete. She came hard around his hand, her entire body losing its ability to stay upright. He did not wait for her to ride her tide downwards. He pulled her to standing, bending her over until her hands hit the floor.

Her breath came in waves as she prepared herself for his pleasure. His hands disappeared from her hips. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, looking between her knees to find him standing, looking at her folded over, totally open. Their eyes met for a long moment.

“Samuel?” she asked as she started to move.

His hands came down on her to stop her. He knelt with his knees in between her spread legs. “Susannah, do you understand what you do to me? Damn you’re so beautiful.”

His eyes were soft as he took her in. She reached back, running her fingers along his hardened dick, looking to give him something to feel. He rolled his eyes closed before he leaned in against her, a chase kiss to her clit. Sam hummed as a smile crossed his mouth.

He flattened out his tongue and gave her one long pass from clit to ass, sending shivers through her body. He sucked one lip in then the other before doing it over again. She mumbled a curse that she wasn’t even sure what it was as he set in to worshiping her pussy in the most delicious of manners. His tongue danced languidly between all her points, taking his time to love each one. The tip of his nose grazed across her ass cheek before his tongue pressed against the back entrance. Her breath was coming in hard waves before cutting out completely at the feel of his teeth digging into the fleshy part of her ass with a groan.

He scooted his hips closer to her face without stopping his mouth. She could only move a fraction, but it was enough to suck in the tip of his dick and pull hard. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, pumping himself as she swirled her tongue the best she could as he continued to worship her pussy. Sam began to bite the inside of her thigh as he picked up his own pace. She sucked hard and his head tilted back as he groaned deep in his chest. He licked the skin at the very top of her thigh before plunging back in, focusing in on her clit, switching between hard sucks and kitten licks that sent her crashing forward blindly towards another high. He came hard with her, shooting into her mouth and across her chin as she cried out in pleasure. Her knees crumpled under her own weight. He caught her, bringing her down against him before kicking his legs out to lay her against him on the floor.

Their heavy breathing was all that could be heard. He snaked his hands across her waist and held her tightly. “Love you, baby,” he whispered, kissing the damp skin of her neck. “You are so good for me.”

“Good enough to take me to the picture show, walk in with me and not just meet me in the dark? Good enough to take for a stroll through the town?” she asked with a sad smile.

He passed a finger down her cheek. “Soon enough, Susannah, we’ll be able to do that. Just now…”

She sighed as she turned away from him, reaching for her robe. Before he could touch her again, she slipped away. “I know, Sammy. It’s just for now, not always.” The words they had repeated to each other over the course of their eight months together. Somehow, the words held less gravity than they once did. Her heart felt dark as she tried to keep her back to him as he cleaned up and dressed. A glance to him reinforced the idea that perhaps the words were feeling thin to him as well.

Chapter Five: Pt. 3, Cora

Cora was up before dawn, slipping into her barn coat and boots. She roused Matthew and they sleepily walked towards the Kilbourne barn. The boy rubbed at his face as she pushed open the heavy doors. Together, they pulled out the wagon. Mr. Kilbourne appeared on his way to milk the cows. He eyed her skeptically.

“Coming back to me, girl?” he asked as he waddled past.

“No, sir,” she said with a grin. “I’ve earned myself a permanent posting.”

He made a rude noise, but continued on. Matthew stopped her before they moved towards the horses. A look of annoyance crossed through his features as he seemed to draw up his shoulders. For the briefest of moments, she saw her father standing in her brother’s space, and it sent a wistful breath across her lips.

“Why are you and Junie so mad with Mama?” he asked, holding onto her arm.

“Not angry, Matthew,” she sighed as she started to yawn. “Just upset.”

“I thought women wanted to get married,” he said innocently.

She smiled warmly at her brother. He looked so like their father with his chiseled jaw and dark brown hair. “We’re all meant to marry and to love. Junie… Mama…”

He made a face just like their father would when she struggled to find words. Tears blurred her eyes as he reached for her shoulder.

“Men have an easier lot in this life, Matthew. At least when it comes to the affairs between men and women. It’s been that way forever it seems,” she whispered. “Mother has had to make a decision that will give Junie a challenge, but will lessen the burden on the family as whole. It was a difficult decision. Of that I am sure. But for Junie, it means that she must go her own path. She has to do this alone. She’s scared of what it may bring.”

“If I could help you and Mama, you know I would, Cora,” he said, his voice strong and sure.

“I’m sure Mama will be asking Mr. Kilbourne any day now to have you be paid for your chores,” Cora remarked as her eyes moved back to the end of the barn where the farmer was working. “You will be helping sooner than you think.”

They got the two horses out and hitched up to the wagon before tying them off with feed bags. Matthew was quiet at her side as they walked back down to the cottage until they were almost to the door.

“I’m sorry that Mama was so upset last night,” he said, his smile sad. He paused as a sparkle moved through his eyes. “Do you think that Mr. Jacob might be back with that automobile?”

“You liked that one, huh?”

“Yes. It looked fast.” He made to walk ahead, but stopped again. “And I liked that he was kind to you.”

Cora smiled as she watched him open the door for her just like a gentleman would for a lady. She tousled his hair as she passed. They sat down with bread and a smear of butter before getting ready for church. She could hear Georgie rousing and moved to get him ready before her mother had to. The littlest of them looked up at her with large dark blue eyes and arms raised for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him up despite him being half her size.

Dressed in their church clothes, Cora helped Junie to tie her hair into braids that flattered her with delicate curls around her ears. Their mother barely looked at either of them as they climbed into the wagon with Mr. and Mrs. Kilbourne on the driver’s bench. Cora told herself that perhaps her words had sunk through the woman’s skull and made some semblance of sense to her, but she very much doubted it. Instead, she sat with Georgie tucked into her left side and Jonathan in her right. The boys were lulled back to sleep in the swaying of the wagon and long ride into town.

While Mr. Kilbourne aided his own wife from the wagon, he left the Janas family behind with a malign smirk. Cora climbed her own way down with Matthew’s help then proceeded to help the others. Their mother led the way towards the church, with Cora holding Junie’s hand tightly in support. Her eyes strayed as they entered the hall, looking for Jacob and his brothers. Mr. Archer approached with his two children in tow. He politely said hello to the family. Cora noticed that Junie was correct, though he spoke to her directly, he did not truly look at her, nor her face. The oddness bothered her.

Cora felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned to find Mr. Samuel and Mr. Daniel. They greeted her warmly, much to her mother’s displeasure. To rub it in further, she turned from her sister’s future husband to say hello to the two men.

“You look well,” Daniel remarked with a warm smile.

“I am doing very well, thank you,” she said, nodding.

“Congratulations on your posting,” Samuel said with a huge smile. “I knew you could do it. You’re a total natural in that shop.”

She smiled wide as Jacob came into her line of sight. His dark suit made his tanned skin look rich. He had not seen her yet, but the way he removed his hat, running his fingers over his hair to keep it out of his eyes made her insides feel warm.

“Cora,” her mother called out.

She smiled once again at Daniel and Samuel before turning back to her family. They were walking with Mr. Archer and his children. Though he walked next to her, the gentleman did not acknowledge his would-be bride. She felt the pit of her stomach clench as she followed. The man was talking about going to their home after the services for supper. The family would be welcomed any time they were in town. Junie tried to make mention that Cora was now working in town, but he just talked right over her like she was a child.

Taking their position in the hall, she sat down at the end of the row, her brain firing thoughts off so quickly that she could barely keep up with the shift in ideas. The preacher’s wife and family appeared at the front and shortly after, the Kiszka’s and Mr. Daniel walked in from the back. Her eyes trained on Jacob as he moved, his hat in his hands and his face turned in her direction. She hoped that he had seen her, but was unsure as he took his place six rows in front of her family.

Georgie started babbling and reaching for her. Cora snuggled him close and he sighed against her face with his hands on her cheeks.

“I miss you, sister,” he whispered, pressing his nose against hers.

She smiled as she put his head on her shoulder. “I miss you too, Georgie,” she said into his hair, breathing him in.

The air in the hall grew uncomfortably warm as the preacher moved through the service. Cora’s brain was not focused on the sermon at all. Her hand held the youngest of her brother’s while her eyes were unfocused on the pew before her. The man’s words held no importance. The music was unmoving. The coil that was being tightened in her chest made her want to grab hold of her siblings and run. Instead, she sat like a good girl and pretended to be part of the faithful. Her brain bent between being selfish and watching Jacob and the nuptials that would take place after the services.

Georgie looked up at her, his small, mischievous face bade her to turn her attention back to him. She allowed him to crawl back up onto her lap, to which he was asleep in moments. Locked into her place as the congregation began to dismiss, she glanced down the row, watching as Mr. Archer was standing up, his eyes trained to the front. With all the movement, she did not see much until a soft tap on her shoulder drew her back to her edge of the pew.

“Good morning, Cora,” Jacob said as he crouched down, his hand landing on Georgie’s back, smoothing down his shirt until his fingers brushed her own, looping his pinky with her index.

“Good morning,” she breathed, feeling the heat rise on her cheeks.

“Mr. Kiszka,” Mr. Archer called from behind her.

Jacob did not rise to meet the gentleman at first. His gaze dropped away, annoyance appearing at the corners of his mouth. He stood, his professional disinterest forming in his features. He did not offer his hand at first. Cora noticed that his jaw tightened when he finally reached out to take Mr. Archer’s offered handshake.

“Mr. Archer,” Jacob said. He returned his gaze to hers, but it was not the same. “I shall see you tomorrow, then.”

She looked back at the corner of the pew as Georgie roused dreamily. She turned to look behind her, seeing him stop to speak with Sam and Daniel. He kept his back to her, but she saw that he turned his chin to his shoulder.

“Sister,” Georgie whispered in her ear.

“I got you, baby,” she cooed.

The preacher and his wife were walking towards their family, their round faces filled with what Cora assumed was to be joy. Pastor Butterman was all hands on Mr. Archer as he shook the man’s hand and patted his shoulder. His eyes fell to her mother with a nod before finally moving to her.

“So this is the bride, then,” he started, beaming towards her. “Miss Cora, you are looking very happy today! I am sure your whole family shares this sentiment.”

Cora’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Instead her eyes darted back to the last spot that Jacob had been in, finding that he was now looking back at her, having heard the voice of the minister carry. Jacob’s dark eyes were hardening on the situation as she shook her head, near panic choking her to silence.

“No, sir,” her mother finally said, pulling Junie closer to her. “Junie is our bride today.”

So many of the words that had crossed her lips over the past days were hanging on her tongue. The wrongness of the moment pierced her. Georgie must have felt her stress and wrapped his hands tight around her neck. Cora fought with herself. The look on her mother’s face was stern, making her rethink what she wanted to voice.

The preacher hesitated. “Right. Junie, what a blessed day this is for you and us all.”

He took her sister’s hand and motioned for Mr. Archer to follow. Cora set Georgie down and took him by the hand. She felt her heart slog in her chest as she followed behind the family. She wanted to scream and fight for her sister to stay with the family and not marry a complete stranger. She wanted to slap her mother to force some sense into the situation.

Instead, she stood like a coward, heart in her throat while Junie looked like she was going to vomit. The preacher was droning on about happiness and love. Cora made a sound that made him stop. She kept her eyes down, but the pause made her have a bit of satisfaction. The man continued on, talking about commitment and loyalty - loyalty that the families can share as they become one family instead of two. Her stomach flopped at the notion.

The ceremony was over before she knew it. Junie’s terrified eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before Mr. Archer kissed her mouth with a quick peck. Cora could not hide the curl of disgust as her sister seemed to recoil. Rosemary smiled at the minister as if in triumph. Somehow, Cora knew that Junie was broken inside. Her big sister did nothing to come to her rescue. Instead, the family turned away, making their way from the church hall into the day beyond. Mr. Kilbourne and his wife were already back to their wagon, waiting. Cora’s mouth dropped when her mother told Mr. Archer that they needed to be moving along. They would have to visit another day.

Grabbing her sister into a hard embrace, Cora whispered into her ear. “Junebug. I love you. I treasure you so. Keep that close.”

She nodded, eyes on their mother who was already in the wagon with the boys. The coolness of the woman’s face stoked the fire within Cora. Matthew moved to edge, sitting down to provide her some support to climb up and take her place. Georgie crawled into her lap, his little face moving until he was nose to nose with her.

“Where’s Junebug?” he asked with all the seriousness that a six year old could muster.

Cora swallowed. “She has her own home now, baby. Perhaps she’ll visit us soon.”

“When you go to your own home, will you take me?” he asked, his hands pressing against her cheeks.

She sucked in a breath, startling the young boy. He threw his arms around her neck and held on tight. Her emotions that she had reigned in through the day were breaking loose. Her mother’s face grew hard. Cora found herself not caring. Georgie’s hands patted her back and he hummed a tune that was meant to be comforting as she wept for her sister. Matthew’s hand slipped into hers. She looked at her eldest brother and for a moment, it was her father looking back at her. Her heart hurt. Her mind hurt. She knew if her father had been there, things would not have been much different. In all likeliness, she would have been married to a man she did not know. She more than likely would have had a baby already. Blowing out a breath, she trained her mind onto the day to come.

When the night came, and she was alone, cleaning the supper dishes, her hands came down on the wash tub. If given the opportunity, she would choose Jacob. He may still have been a stranger, but he at the very minimum showed kindness. He showed interest. She could only imagine what her sister was facing at that moment in a strange house, with a strange man, and expectations that she had no idea how they fit in with her own existence.

Chapter Five: Pt. 4, Molly

When Molly roused, Daniel was gone. She sat up, listening for anything in the house, but there was no sound. Her brows pinched as she slid out of bed, grasping for her robe. The stillness bothered her. Sunday. She hated the idea of Sunday. Danny was required by Joshua to attend church services to keep up their appearance of being good businessmen, no matter what.

There was a light tap on her door as she was fixing a kettle. Susannah peeked her head around, the same weary look on her face.

“Hey, baby doll,” Molly said in a welcome, pointing her to sit at the table. “Eggs?”

“If you’re fixin’ them, sure,” she sighed.

Molly did not like the look that shone in her friend’s eyes. It was a common look that appeared frequently. Fishing out a few eggs and a heavy cast iron pan, she set into fixing breakfast. She waited until they were sitting down with food and coffee before them to ask what was going on.

“Have you ever wondered when we’ll be respectable enough to go to church with them?” she asked, hands folded in her lap. “Sure, we’re all right to take to the diner or the cafeteria. But anywhere else? We’re hidden, Mols.”

Molly took a sip of her coffee, eyes hard on the table before her. She hated that Susannah could openly ask such a question. She could not even form the words in her brain that there would ever be a time that Danny would deny that she would be part of him. That was not the truth, not fully. Sundays. Sundays belonged to nurturing their personas in the public. The four of them would attend church, visit others who were in their sphere - other businessmen and their families. They would travel all over the town through the day as a group. As they were bachelors, it was never expected for them to host anyone - why would they invite people to their home that was in the center of the row of mansions on the way out of town? Instead, they sat and conversed with those that were the pillars of the community as if their wings did not hold the soot of the underbelly they fed on a nightly basis.

“I hate Sundays,” Molly grumbled before shoving eggs into her face.

“I know I should feel stupid for even thinking this, but, really? When will we be able to walk on the arms of our men? They love us. Isn’t that enough?” Susannah whispered sullenly.

She blew out a long breath. Shaking her head, Molly dragged her teeth across her upper lip. “Unless we leave this town with them, I do not think that will happen, love. Too many men have seen… our act. Joshua would never allow their current reputation to be tarnished.”

“I don’t understand sometimes why we need to be ashamed of our work, when half the men in this town have been there cheering us on. Aren’t they just as tarnished in that sense?” she grumbled.

Molly nodded sympathetically, but knew this was an argument waiting to happen. Instead, she kept to her coffee and finished her eggs. She adored her friend, but the moods that overtook her at times were dark and complicated, there was no winning until her cooler thoughts returned.

Susannah helped to clean up then drifted back to her own home next door. Molly rummaged around her rooms, straightening up, pulling out the week’s clothes. She found pieces that would look good on Cora and set them aside to perhaps spend some time fixing them for her newest friend to wear. It also meant more to do to keep her busy until Danny returned.

Hope you liked this little bit longer chapter. Next week will be different - a chapter only for Cora - but you won't want to miss it! Hearts will be fluttering. I do have a tag list, you can join here or just let me know

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