Tumgik
#epilogue coming a little later
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Sweet Like Wine
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Your monthly bleed is over—just in time for you and Astarion to find yourselves with a bit of alone time. You might not be able to feed your vampire as easily, but there's another hunger for the two of you to satiate.
Word Count: 9,154 words of filth
Warnings: sexual content (18+), soft Astarion, vulnerable Astarion, slightly insecure Astarion, mention of past sexual trauma, pet names, Astarion still doesn't realize he's loved for more than his body,
18+ Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving, m receiving), touching over clothes, naked grinding, bite kink, blood kink, soft sex, creampie, aftercare, use of the words pussy, dick, cunt & cock, mentions of reader's period
Burns Like Rum (part 1) found {here}
Epilogue Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine coming soon!
Note: Thank you for all the love on the first part! I'm glad everyone loved it! Here's the second part :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Rain was coming. You had smelled it on the air for several days now, an altogether pleasant scent that reminded you of fast-flowing rivers in a pine forest, distinctly earthy and cold.
The first day you'd smelled it, so had Astarion, stopping every few seconds to sneeze and then complain about his heightened sense of smell being trigged by weather.
You had taken to sleeping in Astarion’s tent with him over the past few days, enjoying each other’s company while you waited for your period to end. He was enjoying getting fed nightly, and you were enjoying learning about him after he gave you the night of your life.
Well, enjoying was perhaps not the right word for your experience. You were glad he trusted you enough to tell you about the things Cazador had made him do. You were grateful he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with you. But your heart broke every time he told you a little more, his voice low and tired and broken, reciting his past like it was a crime he was ready to be locked up for. And, by gods, how your hatred for Cazador grew.
It wasn’t like you had ever liked the thought of Astarion’s vampiric master. Anyone who had killed this man (who you weren’t quite sure how you felt about but knew you cared for more than anyone else you’d ever known) was evil in your book. But Cazador... Cazador made devils look like saints in your eyes.
You packed up the last remnants of your camp the morning after Astarion had whispered to you about his year encased in stone, slight trembles in his body and growing more violent the longer he'd talked. You'd held him close that night, holding his hand and sliding your fingers through his hair to comfort him. But now you were brooding in the weak morning sun, contemplating which way you'd most like to kill Cazador.
Not that you would—that right was Astarion's, should he wish it. If the time came and he decided he couldn't do it alone, well, then you'd employ one of your many planned strategies to make that bastard suffer for everything he'd done to Astarion and his siblings.
You had decided last night to move on from the place you'd been camped for over a week. You'd been there too long; people had begun to stumble upon your tents, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized Astarion was a vampire or that Gale had a weapon in his chest and decided to try and kill them.
Wyll had gone scouting last night before the sun had set and had reported a town in the distance—near enough to reach before sunset, but only if you got moving as soon as dawn broke. So, you got up early, woke up your grouchy companions, and started breaking down camp. You were on the road less than an hour later.
You walked beside Astarion, both of you weighed down by your packs, your hands swinging beside each other. The backs of your hands kept brushing. You were so distracted by it and the thought that maybe, just maybe, you would take his hand the next time they brushed, that you didn't notice the others watching.
A twinge in your side made you hiss and bring your other arm to it, on the place of an old scar. The pain was a familiar, soft throb—a telling sign that the storm you'd been smelling was getting closer.
"Is your wound still alright?" Shadowheart asked you, shocking you out of your mind, and gesturing to your abdomen. The gash had healed up nicely, little more than some light, pale scarring now, but the phantom pains lingered. They struck at random and had become a cause of concern amongst the entire camp.
You nodded. "It's fine. I haven't felt anything yet. It's just...old wounds acting up."
"Let me know if you need anything," she said, which was a phrase you'd heard at least three times a day since the day you'd gotten the wound. This time, though, she sounded even more worried than normal.
You supposed she had more than enough reason to be worried—this was the first time you'd done this much moving since you'd been injured. You hadn't had to travel or hunt since then, and even your nights with Astarion between your legs kept you on your back with your calves thrown over his shoulders.
Not that Shadowheart knew that, exactly, but she had extracted a promise out of him not to let you do anything that might reopen the wound, which also meant Astarion had refused to let you take him in your mouth, afraid that such a position would be too much for you.
"I'm okay," you promised her, trying to keep the exasperation out of your voice.
You must have failed at doing so, because Astarion whispered a moment later, "She's just trying to keep you safe."
You deflated a little. "I...I know. I'm just...tired of being treated like a glass doll. I'm healed. I can handle myself."
"I know, she's just worried... We're all worried," he added, and you knew that 'we' included himself, a recent development when it came to any kind of emotion.
"I'll be okay," you promised.
"You better be," he said, finally taking your hand in his. Giddiness spread through you like wildfire. Astarion smiled at you and you got the feeling he knew you'd been dying for that to happen. "You're too cute to die on me now."
You rolled your eyes. "Well, I'll try my best."
Astarion looked at you with a fondness that had recently appeared in his eyes; it was a look you loved, one that made your entire body grow warm every time you caught him looking at you like that. You leaned into his side, letting him kiss the top of your head gently. You smiled up at him, ready to thank him for the open display of intimacy.
And then something in his eyes changed, a sparkle in the crimson. A smile twitched on his lips. For a moment, it looked like he might say something—only for his gaze to slide to the others, walking just ahead of you as if they knew to give you privacy. The sparkle to fizzled out.
"What is it?" you asked quietly.
"Walk faster, friends!" Gale called back to you. "The clouds aren't promising, that storm you've been complaining about will be upon us soon!"
"Later," Astarion said to you. "I'll tell you later."
He squeezed your hand and quickened his pace to catch up with the rest of your companions.
~❊~
Mercifully, the long day of traveling wasn't made longer—or more painful—by a fight of any kind, only by the miserable weather. Halfway through the day, the rain had begun in the form of slow, fat raindrops. By now, it was coming down fast and hard, almost painful when it hit your body, even with your many layers of clothing.
Wyll's estimation had been a little generous; the sun, though you couldn't see it, had already set by the time you got close enough to see windows in the buildings of the town, almost every one with a candle glowing on the windowsill.
"Isn't that just quaint," Astarion murmured as the muddy river of a dirt road beneath your feet slowly transitioned into cobblestones covered in at least an inch of water. "Gods, I hope this place has a good tavern."
"I hope it has an open inn," you said. "Everything hurts."
"Your wound?" he asked, frowning and automatically putting a hand on your abdomen.
You shook your head. "No—that's fine. Just my muscles are killing me from all this walking, and old injuries are acting up. It's the storm, I knew it was coming."
Lae'zel frowned. "Are you capable of sensing the weather? Why haven't you used this trick before?"
Shadowheart giggled behind her hand and got control of herself only when the gith's head snapped toward her.
You blinked. "It— I'm not actually able to do that, Lae. It's just that old wounds ache before storms. Lots of people have that. It's...kind of an old wives' tale, I guess?"
"She was right, though," Gale said, squinting up at the sky. His hood fell from his head. "The storm came when she thought it would."
Astarion sidled closer to you, smirking, and curled a hand around your waist. Under his breath, he teased, "Perhaps I...kept you awake too late last night, didn't I? Feeling a little soreness between those lovely legs?"
You rolled your eyes but leaned into his touch. "Don't you start."
The group walked further down the main thoroughfare, slowly spreading across the street, each one looking up at the signs on the buildings. Almost everything was closed: a few tailors' shops, a perfumery, an outdoor food market with empty vendor stalls.
Music drifted from one of the few open storefronts. Warm golden light spilled out onto the cobblestone street through the windows. Raucous laughter joined the jaunty sound of a bard's music. Inside, you could see tables packed with patrons, all singing in various states of drunkenness—and all safe from the storm outside.
Wyll gestured forward. "There's your tavern, Astarion."
Astarion grinned, his fangs flashing in the low light. "Who's up for a drink?"
"Maybe later," you said.
Pointedly, Wyll added, "Once we find an inn and rooms for the night. I'd rather not make camp out here in this damp."
"What, the Blade of Frontier's doesn't know how to rough it through bad weather?" Astarion teased.
"Stop taunting him and let's find an inn," you said, nudging him gently. "I just...want to go to bed, really."
"Alright," Astarion said, that sparkle back in his eyes again. "A good, long night's rest it is, then."
You moved further down the street. Karlach spotted the inn a few doors down and the group filed in through the door, just as thunder clapped overhead. You dragged Astarion into the building with you just before the rain could get worse. The clerk at the desk looked a bit annoyed to see you.
"We don't have enough rooms for all of you," they said, counting the seven of you.
Karlach pulled a face. Before she could say something accidentally indelicate, you pushed to the front of the group.
"How many rooms do you have available?"
"Just three," they said after a quick glance down at the open guestbook in front of them. "And they're not all next to each other."
You glanced back at the others.
"We could take two," Gale suggested. "Split us the old-fashioned way of ladies in one and us gents in another?"
Automatically, your gaze slid to Astarion; both of you appeared to have deflated at the idea of being separated. Wyll, of course, noticed.
"We'll take three and give the third to the lovebirds," he said, teasingly nudging his elbow into Astarion's side. "I don't think I have the heart to separate them."
"I find it agreeable," Lae'zel said with a decisive nod. She turned back to the clerk. "We'll take all three."
"It'll cost you," the clerk warned.
Astarion pulled out a money purse—no doubt stolen the last time you visited a merchant. "We can pay," he promised with that charismatic grin of his that made your stomach do flips.
He moved to the desk, sneakily grabbing your ass and squeezing as he walked by, and counted out the coins for the clerk. They counted it again and stood up only when they were satisfied.
"Come with me," they said. "I'll show you to your rooms."
~❊~
After saying goodnight to the others, escaping their teasing about keeping it down in the night for the sake of your poor neighbors, Astarion held open the door to your room to you. You got inside and glanced around; as far as rooms went, it wasn't awful. It was sparsely furnished and a tad cold, but there was a recently lit hearth and plenty of blankets on the beds. It was on the uppermost floor and you could hear the rain pounding on the roof, a brutal sound that made you agree with Wyll's earlier sentiment about staying out of the weather.
Both of you took off your soaked cloaks and hung them on the hooks next to the door to dry off. You set your stuff down on the ground, pulled the blankets off of one of the beds, and dropped them onto the other.
"Sharing a bed, are we?" Astarion asked with a little giggle, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the back of your neck.
"Don't act like you don't want to," you said and leaned back into his chest. "I know you, Astari."
He hummed happily into your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed the place where your neck and shoulder met. The nickname always made him happy, often bringing a pleasant blush to his cheeks after he'd fed.
If you had reached that point yet, this would have been the perfect time to say "I love you" and turn to kiss him over your shoulder. But you hadn't said it yet, and he hadn't said it, and you knew it wasn't time yet. You didn't know much, but you knew Astarion wasn't ready for that just yet.
You relaxed into his arms even more, practically melting against him. He planted soft, dainty kisses on your neck and shoulder. "What were you gonna tell me earlier? You had this look in your eye, like you were really excited."
Astarion's grin was audible in his tone as he whispered in your ear, "Your period's gone."
You frowned. "How do you know that and I don't?"
"Your scent's changing. I smelled it this morning, a weak scent of your menstrual blood, nearly gone. We've been traveling so you haven't been able to check recently, but once we got to the town I knew it was gone."
You shook your head. "Smell alone and you already know me better than I know myself."
Astarion scoffed. "Smell alone? Darling, I know your body better than anyone after this past week." His hand drifted down and slid between your legs, cupping you gently. Instantly, warmth flooded you and pooled in your cunt. "I know your shape...your taste...your smell..." He kissed your neck, pressing down on your clit through your clothes. You whimpered lightly. "I know exactly how to make you moan for me and I know what every moan means."
With every ounce of self-restraint you possessed, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Let's get settled in first, Astari. I need to get out of these wet clothes and I really should wash the grime and rain off me before we do anything and—" You stopped suddenly and turned in his arms, resting your hands on his biceps. "I don't have my period anymore."
Astarion blinked at you. "Why do you sound so sad? You've been in pain for the past week! Shouldn't you be glad it's gone?"
"Well, I suppose," you said, shrugging. You toyed with his collar, playing with the fabric between your fingers. "But I...I can't..." You sighed. "You can't feed from me."
His face softened. He gently took hold of your neck, brushing his thumb over the place he usually drank from. "Of course I can still feed from you... It just...takes a bigger tole on you now. Ah." He paused. "I see what you mean now."
You nodded. "It's back to being bloodless, and our fun's done."
Astarion chuckled deeply. "Oh, is that what you're sad about? No more loving little kisses between your legs from your vampire?" He wrapped his hands around your hips, squeezing them and pulling you flush to his body. "We can have a different kind of fun, my love, and it doesn't take your period to convince me to eat you out."
You heard him dimly, but didn't process anything after— "My vampire?"
Something in his face changed. A little bit of the light in his eyes seemed to fade. After a moment, he turned his face away. His body tensed in your arms. "Well, I...I thought that.... M-maybe after..."
You cupped his cheeks and turned him back to you. You kissed him softly, wanting to chase away every ounce of the self-doubt on his face. "I like the sound of that, Astarion." You brought a hand down to clasp his. "As long as I get to be yours, too."
"Darling," he murmured against your lips, seconds before kissing you again. His tongue pressed against your lips and you opened them to let him in. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he moaned softly into your mouth. His relief at your answer slowly relaxed his muscles and made his kiss incredibly tender. You returned his quiet moan with a soft, content sigh into his mouth.
When the kiss broke a few moments later, though it felt like an eternity, you immediately laid your head against Astarion's chest, hugging him tightly. He smoothed his hand over your hair, holding you close to him. He kissed the top of your head in a way that seemed almost domestic for him.
You closed your eyes, settling against his chest. The smell of him and the feel of his body against yours and his hand in your hair was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. And yet...
"I'm in wet clothes, and I'm very tired of being wet—unless it's you making me wet," you said, only half-aware of what you had said until you felt Astarion giggle into your hair.
"You're right, we should change and clean up," he said quietly, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to let go. "Then we can have our fun...and you can get all of me, like I promised you a week ago."
You hummed. "Gods, I'm looking forward to that."
"See? It's not all bad that you're not bleeding anymore," he teased, kissing your cheek.
You finally separated. Astarion dug through his pack until he found his usual shirt and pants. He closed the window's curtains and then you stripped where you stood, peeling the wet clothes off your skin. You walked over to the washroom, aware of Astarion's appreciative gaze on you, and scrubbed the dirt off your skin. You dried yourself off and Astarion joined you. It felt strange to watch your own reflection in the mirror but not see him standing next to you, even though you knew he was next to you, staring at you as he was apt to do.
You kissed his cheek and let your hand rest on his hip as you walked back toward the beds. You bent to rummage through your pack, only for his arms to circle your waist and pull you back up against his chest.
"Oh, darling, you're not going to need clothes for what I have planned," he murmured in your ear. He gently teased the shell of your ear with his teeth. You shuddered in his arms.
"Just jumping straight into it, huh?" you teased.
"I never waste time when I could be spending it with you," he breathed, letting one hand come up to cup your breast. You stumbled backward, sighing contentedly. "You like that, don't you?"
You whimpered. "More... Please darling, I..."
He chuckled and cupped both breasts in his hands. He squeezed them lightly and rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at your cleavage. "Hells, I love these tits, darling. So soft, like all your skin. So sensitive to my touch..."
Astarion began thumbing at your nipples. They perked up at his touch. He rolled them between his fingers, kissing your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. You whimpered under his touch.
"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" he asked, squeezing your tits a little harder. He massaged them in his hands, contentedly watching from his perch on your shoulder.
You nodded, leaning your head against his. After a moment, you asked, breathless but still forming words, "Can you suck on them?"
He moved around to the front of you, grinning happily. "Of course I can, darling." He gently sat you down on the bed's edge and kneeled before you, a beautiful sight. He spread your legs to sit between them and get as close to you as possible, glancing down at your exposed cunt as he did. "Gods, I can't wait to be inside you," he muttered, just seconds before he took one of your nipples in his mouth.
Astarion's mouth was an absolutely wonderful thing. You'd figured that out the first night and for the subsequent week that he was skilled with his lips and tongue, far more skilled than his kisses let on. His mouth around your breast was heavenly as he sucked on your nipple, lightly at first and then slowly adding pressure. You'd be lucky if your tits weren't bruised come morning. His other hand held your breast, kneading your flesh, rolling your nipple in his fingers. The coolness of the skin of his fingers was a relief against your hot skin.
He moaned as he suckled on you. He flicked his tongue over your nipple and then kissed the fat of your breast. You brought your hand up to his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, and he moaned loudly. You whimpered as his sucking grew to be almost too much. He understood your sound and switched breasts, licking and kissing the one he'd just been groping.
You stared down at the beautiful man happily sucking on your tits: his eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering every so often, his pretty lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking your breast into the heat of his mouth. You carded your fingers through his hair, delighting in the way it curled around your fingers and around his ears.
A sudden idea had you moving your hand down to his ear. You touched it gently and he moaned loudly. You giggled and began lightly caressing his ear. His moans turned into whimpers as you neared the pointed tip. At last he popped off your breast and his head fell against your stomach.
"Oh, gods, darling," he whined. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, that feels... Ohhh, that feels wonderful."
His little moan brought a rush of wetness to your core. You kept playing with his hair, hoping to draw another one of those weak whimpers out of him.
Astarion shuddered into your touch. He was panting heavily and moved shakily, but he still managed to get his hand between your legs. He slid two fingers inside of you with ease.
"Ohhh, sweet girl, you're so wet for me," he breathed. "Can I—?"
"Yes, please," you gasped, knowing instantly what he wanted to do. Your fingers left his ear and he ducked his head between your legs. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. "More."
Astarion chuckled into your pussy. "Patience, dear." He began to suckle on your clit, the pressure alone enough to make you see stars. Then his tongue flicked over you in the way he'd learned you licked and you fell back against the bed, arching into his mouth. His hands came up to grip your hips and pull you closer to him.
He moved lower and pushed his tongue into your entrance. The two of you moaned in tandem and Astarion's fingers dug into your hip, hard enough to leave bruises come morning.
The sounds of Astarion's slurping became obscene, but you couldn't find it in you to be embarrassed. You only moaned louder as his nose bumped your clit.
Without warning, Astarion slipped his fingers back inside you. You arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers curled inside you.
"Astarion!" you groaned, grinding down on his face and fingers. He chuckled into you.
"That's it, my love, you're close," he murmured, staring into you and watching your walls clench around his fingers. "Just let go for me, you're almost there."
You moaned, writhing as he went back to sucking on your clit. His fingers found the right spot and you covered your mouth with a hand to muffle the near-scream that came out of you—a sound you had no idea you could even make.
"No, no, no," Astarion chided, fixing you with a look. "Don't you muffle those sounds. I want to hear you scream for me, darling."
You whimpered. You panted as your orgasm slowly crept up on you. Your hips stuttered and lifted off the bed—Astarion took advantage and slipped his arm underneath you, dragging you back to him and pressing his mouth back to your clit. He kissed it gingerly, occasionally flicking his tongue over it in the circles you liked so much. Sometimes it amazed you how well he remembered your body and your likes, even if you'd only told him once.
"Astari," you whined, the tight ball in your core very close to snapping.
"I've got you," he whispered. "Come on, sweet girl, it's alright. Cum for me. Cum on my face, darling. I want it. I want to taste you. That's it, that's it, that's it!"
You finished with a loud cry, your back arching, Astarion moaning into your cunt and his tongue lapping quickly to catch every drop of your release. He kept curling his fingers even as your walls tightened to the point of being difficult to move them.
Astarion leaned back, grinning up at you. His face shone; it was almost weird not to see blood on his face. He looked back down at your pussy, staring eagerly, licking your cum off of his lips. "You're so wet, darling. Gods, you'll be a tight fit, but I could slide in right now if I wanted to..."
You nodded very quickly, whimpering. "Please, Astarion, please, I want you to."
He raised an elegant brow at you. "Oh, do you, now?" You nodded, whining. "Say it, darling."
Your body twisted in a way that seemed impossible as you said, a tremendous blush on your face which you were trying to hide in the bed, "I want you to fuck me, Astarion."
He grinned toothily, his fangs shining. A deep sound that neared a growl emanated from his chest. "Again. Say it again, louder."
"Fuck me, Astari," you whined, a little louder than the first time.
Something in Astarion snapped. He pulled you back onto your feet and flush to his body, kissing you fiercely. It was almost harsh, his fangs nicking your lips. You hissed and Astarion pulled back. The desire—a mix of bloodlust and arousal—was clear in his eyes, but he paused to ask, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine," you promised. "It's not like you haven't nicked me in more sensitive places."
"And you like it, every time," he teased, briefly kissing your forehead. He wiped away a small dot of blood on your lips with his thumb and licked it off.
You smiled at him. "What can I say, you've given me quite the biting kink."
Astarion chuckled. "Cheeky little pup," he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. "Ready to continue?"
You nodded, unable to stop the happy grin that overtook your face at the idea of him finally taking you. A thrill ran down your spine as Astarion laid you back on the bed and crawled up to you, kissing you harshly. You were dimly aware of him pumping his cock between you.
He pulled away suddenly, glancing down his body. "Shit."
You frowned, trying to catch his eye again. "Darling? What's wrong?"
Astarion sighed. "In my...excitement, I may have forgotten a very important detail." He looked down at himself and you sat up and followed his gaze. His cock was half-hard, but not nearly enough to slide into you. You whispered a quiet "oh." In his embarrassment, Astarion refused to meet your gaze. He looked much smaller, like he'd curled up into himself. "Unimpressive, huh?"
The half-disguised anger and humiliation in his voice made your heart ache. You cupped his face, turning his face toward you. You kissed him softly. "Oh, Astarion... No, you're not. You are impressive, you're just not quite ready yet. You forget I've seen you before, fully hard after you feed."
"I think you're missing the point," he said weakly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, effectively hiding himself. "I can't fuck you like this, darling."
"You can once you've had some blood, but that's beside the point." You kissed his cheek, rubbing a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch. "You're more than just sex, Astarion. Damn good sex, sure, but that's not all you are, no matter what anybody else—and especially your master—told you."
He turned to you, a strange look in his eyes. You took his hand, raised it to your mouth, and kissed the back of his hand. He leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder.
"This is the second time you've had to say this, something like this, to me during sex," he said with a humorless giggle, a shadow of his usual one.
"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it," you promised, kissing the top of his head.
For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he just blinked until the teary glaze in his eyes went away. "Thank you," he whispered, and he adjusted to kiss the spot on your neck he always drank from. He lightly scraped his teeth against your skin. "Do you want to do this?"
You hummed, leaning into his affection. "Yes, sweetheart. I want this. I want you. I want you very, very badly."
He smiled. "Lay on your side, darling. Let me lay behind you."
You did as he asked, relaxing into his hold and letting him manhandle you into the position he wanted. He pulled you flush against his body, his length pressing into you, his arm around your waist and holding you against him as if he was afraid you'd try to escape the moment he bit you. With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your neck.
"Are you ready, darling?" he whispered, dragging his teeth across the shell of your ear.
You nodded. "Mhm."
"Just relax for me," he breathed. He nuzzled into your neck and kissed the spot he was going to bite. "Right here? Your favorite spot?"
"Right there," you whispered. You put your hand over his and both of you (you weren't sure who moved first) twined your fingers together. He squeezed your hand gently before he sank his teeth into your neck.
Quiet filled the room, except for the rain on the roof, your steady breathing (only steady for now), and Astarion's sucking.
It had been just over a week since he'd fed from you this way, and the sensation was just as alien as it had been that first night you'd let him drink—two tiny shards of ice, the cold numbness spreading slowly through the surrounding area, preventing you from feeling any pain in his bite. Slowly, you acclimated to the sensation and it faded into a dull, throbbing pleasure.
He slid his free hand under your head, holding your head up and your neck steady. He gently scratched your scalp.
"Astarion," you moaned, squeezing his hand. He grunted, continuing his sucking. You focused less on the sound of it—which reminded you vaguely of sucking juice out of a dripping fruit—and more of the feeling of his body against you. "Enjoy this, sweetheart. Please, just for me."
He cuddled closer to you, humming, and you smiled as he let go of your hand to briefly squeeze your hip. Your smile widened when he took your hand in his again as quickly as he possibly could.
It didn't take long for Astarion to start getting into it. He began whimpering softly, so unrestrained you were certain he had no idea he was doing it. Slowly, his hips began rolling against you, gentle motions at first that grew more noticeable and more desperate the longer he drank.
His teeth still in your neck, Astarion began grinding his hardened length into the swell of your ass. His whimpers became moans and then animalistic grunts. He drank in time with every thrust against you and slowly you were reduced to those two sensations.
Throbbing overtook you. Your head was pounding, just slight enough for it to be ignored, and need pulsed in your cunt. You could feel your juices coating your thighs and the dull throbbing in your clit. But the rest of your body was growing pleasantly numb. Your extremities began to tingle.
Astarion's gulps slowed down and his thrusting became feral. You moaned once, very loudly, as his cock slid briefly between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. Your moan spurred him on and he adjusted to keep grinding himself on your thigh.
A few more swallows of blood was all it took for the edges of your vision to get blurry. Your eyes fluttered shut; you didn't have the strength to open them again. You could no longer feel your fingers and you were only partially aware of your hand slipping out of his. But Astarion was incredibly aware of it; he stopped drinking and twisted around you to lay in front of you to check on you.
Your head dropped to the mattress without Astarion's hand holding you up. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook you and you groaned quietly.
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," he said, cupping your cheek. You opened your eyes. "There's my girl. How are you doing? Feel okay? Did I take too much?"
"Slow down on the questions," you said, "and hold me."
He chuckled and scooted closer, pulling you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head. "But are you okay?"
You nodded. "Give me a minute and I'll be right as rain."
He giggled. "Right as rain..."
You rolled your eyes. "What can I say, the storm's got me thinking." You tucked yourself into his arms, your lips against his chest. You kissed his skin softly. He hummed happily and you continued, nipping at his skin. Now that he'd fed, bruises started to form under your lips.
"I'm okay now," you said after a few moments. The throbbing in your head had eased up and you no longer felt like you were about to pass out.
"Not dizzy anymore?" he asked.
You shook your head. "I'm alright."
He smiled at you; gods, that smile was gorgeous. "Well, now, dear. Let me return the favor..."
You blinked at him. "Favor—? Oh!"
Astarion's mouth was back on your breasts, this time leaving hickeys all over your skin—and tiny, bloody pinpricks from his fangs—that matched the bruises you'd left on him. You whined, gripping his hair tightly.
He grinned against your skin. "Oh, darling—I know. I know you want me. Your body and I have kept you waiting long enough, haven't we?"
You put your hand on his chest. "Wait, darling. Let me..." You slid down his body and gripped his cock in your hand. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips into your hand.
"Oh, darling, that feels..." He moaned. "Gods."
"It's about to get better, if you'd like?" you asked. You kissed his thigh. "Do you want me to?"
Something in his face changed, his features softening. You fancied that you could see some of his walls come down in his eyes, but you chalked it up to your hopeful imagination. But then he was nodding and whispering, "Yes."
You kissed around his base, watching him shudder every time your lips touched his skin. You locked eyes with him and pressed your lips to his base. He whined, high and needy, throwing his head back. You smiled; you'd never heard him make that sound before, but I wanted to hear it again.
You moved up to kiss his tip. A groan came from the back of his throat. You gave his head a small lick and watched his entire body shudder with pleasure.
"Ready?" you asked him, placing another kiss to his length.
"Yes," he breathed, looking down at you. "Yes."
You licked the underside of his cock, from base to head, then took his head in your mouth and sucked lightly. He whined the entire time, growing steadily louder until he was moaning. You took him deeper and he threw his head back again, swallowing harshly. Gods, he's so pretty when he's losing control... You reached up and took his hand, squeezing gently.
He bucked his hips into your mouth. You made a soft sound of slight complaint, surprised by the motion. "S-sorry," he breathed, his chest heaving. His voice was tight, the muscles of his abdomen tight. "You just... Gods, you're good at this. You are...amazing."
You squeezed his hand until he looked down at you, your question was in your eyes: are you alright?
"Keep going," he urged. "I'm— I'm more than alright, darling."
You sank down further until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned to feel him twitch in your mouth; you weren't expecting the breathy gasp that came from him. You did it again and his hand left yours to thread through your hair, putting the slightest amount of pressure on you.
"Is this okay?" he asked shakily, struggling to get the words out through his heavy breaths.
You winked at him and he groaned, the sound feral. He held onto your hair for dear life and you kept sucking, licking the underside of his cock every chance you could. Occasionally, he bucked his hips desperately, alternating between gasping for breath and whimpering your name between moans that verged on sobs.
Astarion jerked his hips, his cock kicking up. You took advantage to swirl your tongue around his tip, tasing his pre-cum. He leaned up on his forearms and you saw the tears on his waterline. Concerned flooded through you. His face was relaxed into an expression of pure ecstasy, but...
You pulled off of him. "Astarion? Are you okay, sweetheart?"
His chest heaved, glistening with sweat, while he gasped for breath. "I— I'm okay. You're wonderful, darling, absolutely..." He beckoned you up to him with two fingers, that dominant look back in his eye. You did as he ordered without question. "Come here. As much as I love this, I need to fuck you."
You whined. "Astari, please. Please. Please, I want you."
"Look at you, begging for me," he cooed, his hand sliding between your legs. He rubbed your clit and you arched into his touch, moaning wantonly. "There she is. That's it, darling, just feel good for me."
You leaned into his chest. "Astarion! I need you. I need you to fuck me, please, gods."
Astarion chuckled and pulled his hand away from you. He gently laid you on your back and crawled over you. He kissed you deeply before sitting back and lining himself up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. Anticipation and excitement mixed in your stomach.
Astarion placed the head of his cock against you and then looked up at you. His face was fond as he met your gaze. "Are you ready for me, darling?"
"Yes," you breathed. "I— Oh, gods, yes!"
"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered. He kissed your forehead briefly.
You watched him move, slowly bucking his hips forward to push his cock inside of you. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. You forced yourself to remember to breathe as he bottomed out, your walls stretching to accommodate him; he finally let out a deep groan from the back of his throat.
"Darling," he moaned, leaning down to you. You reached up, putting your hand in his hair, and brought his head down to you. Once again, you weren't sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours.
It was a gentle kiss that was fitting for his slow, shallow thrusts. The two of you panted into each other. He put his forehead against yours, glancing down and watching him slide in and out of you, whispering in Elvish at the sight.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Astarion... Oh, gods..."
"You feel so good," he groaned. "Darling, I— Ohhh, sweet girl." He bent down to lick the small blood spots off your breasts. He moaned sweetly. "You taste even better when I'm inside you, my love. You taste sweet—like a delectable wine."
You whimpered. "I don't mean to deprive you of my blood, dear, but please please kiss me."
He chuckled and kissed his way up your neck, stopping briefly to lick your already-closing puncture wounds, before he kissed your lips. His mouth tasted vaguely of iron.
Your walls tightened around him. He was rubbing inside of you in just the right ways, hitting pleasure spots that his fingers had already made tender. His thrusts were still gentle, not enough to make you see stars but enough to make your entire body relax and give in to the pleasure.
"You're wonderful, darling," he murmured. He reached up to roll your nipple in his fingers. "You feel so perfect around me. So tight...so wet...so eager... Gods, darling, yes, just clench around me like that."
You threw your head back and he immediately descended on it, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin. You could feel the bruises that you would find in the morning.
"Faster," you told him. "I can take more than this, Astari."
He grinned and you were moaning seconds later as he sped up, his hips snapping into you.
"Can you take it harder? Deeper?" he asked. "You have no idea how hard it is not to ravish you, darling."
You cupped his chin and brought him back up to your face. You kissed him hard, more tongues and teeth than anything. You met his gaze and whispered, "Then ravish me."
Astarion pushed his lips back to yours, grunting animalistically, and slammed his cock into you. You cried out, clinging to him desperately as he fucked you relentlessly, his hips snapping against yours, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. The head of his cock kissed your cervix every time, making your entire body shudder. You began meeting his thrusts and he chuckled, one hand gripping your hip to help keep you up.
You threw your legs around his hips and both of you groaned at the new angle. Astarion muttered to himself in Elvish, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You kissed him, bringing him back to you. He smiled, kissing your forehead.
"Aren't you gorgeous?" he whispered to you, staring deep into your eyes. There was an alertness there that you hadn't noticed the first time he'd fucked you like this, out in the woods that night.
You reached up to cup his cheek. "You're quite handsome like this, Astarion," you murmured. "You always are."
He smiled softly at you and turned to kiss your palm, his hips stuttering for a moment. He grunted and pushed deeper into you, making you cry out again. He glanced down your bodies and watched the two of you thrust into each other.
"Gods, that's a pretty view," he murmured, his voice breathy. "Your slick shining on my dick...and, oh, look at that... The outline of my cock in your tummy. Gods, that's hot." He placed his hand on your lower abdomen where the bulge was and he pressed down. You whined, clenching your teeth and trying not to scream. He, of course, noticed. "Oh, that feels good, does it?"
You whimpered out a weak, "Yes!" He grinned and began pressing down on every stroke into you.
You gripped his shoulder, your nails digging in; you knew there would be scratches on his back and shoulders come morning and you were careful to avoid his scar, knowing just how painful that would be if scratched.
He kept losing his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close; thankfully, so were you.
"I'm close," you whispered. "I'm so close, darling."
On the next thrust in, he adjusted the hand pushing down on your abdomen so that his thumb could circle around your clit. "Does this help?"
You whined, nodding frantically. "Oh, Astari— Don't stop, please don't stop, I—" Your words faded into moans. He giggled.
"Don't worry, darling, I don't intend on stopping until you've finished around my cock," he whispered in your ear. Your entire body shuddered.
Astarion's thrusts grew a bit sloppier, but his thumb on your clit remained dedicated to making you cum. You were half-convinced the way he spoke as he gazed down at you adoringly would be enough even without the cock thrusting into you or the thumb stimulating you.
"Gods, look at you," he murmured. "Look at that body, responding to me so eagerly! Those beautiful breasts, perky nipples, all covered in my bite marks... That lovely neck, marked and still just barely bleeding..." He bent to lick the thin trail of blood. "These legs, wrapped around my waist, and that pussy just sucking me in." He brushed your hair out of your eyes. "And I could never forget this darling face, those beautiful eyes just staring up at me like I hung the moon and stars..." He pressed his forehead to yours. Softly, he said, "Come on, darling, cum for me. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you clench around me and lose yourself in me."
The thread inside you snapped. You arched off the bed and into his body. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him, whispering words of encouragement. You screamed as you came, clenching so hard around him it was a miracle he kept fucking you through it. He pulled his hand off your clit as soon as the feeling became too much, reading your body with ease.
"That's it," he whispered to you. "That's my girl. Easy, darling, breathe. You did so well. Do you mind if I—" He groaned, hips faltering for a moment. "Do you mind if I cum inside you?"
You whined. "Oh, gods, yes, please do! Cum inside me, Astarion, cum inside me, I want it!"
He moaned happily, kissing your neck fervently. He began rambling. "Hells, darling, you spoil me. Feeding me with your bleeding cunt for a week? Taking my cum the moment it's over? You needy, heavenly little thing." He kissed his way up to your jaw. You put your fingers in his hair. "Oh, you're so wet now, sweet girl. You've soaked me. You look so pretty around me. Oh, gods, you're so much tighter now— I'm not going to last much longer, dear. You're good, you're too good. My love, oh my love!" He lost his rhythm entirely, fucking you only with the need to cum. "I love this. I love every bit of this. I love—"
He cut himself off. He cried out, burying his face in your neck and his cock in your cunt. Warmth flooded you as he spilled himself deep inside you. His hips stuttered and flexed a few more times, his cock twitching inside you, before he finally let out a long breath and collapsed on top of you. Immediately, your arms wrapped around him and you held him tight to your chest.
As the two of you lay panting together, your mind was working on overdrive. He hadn't said it, but you'd heard what he wanted to say: I love you. The very same words you were dying to say.
At last, Astarion lifted his head. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
You combed your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered. "Not one bit, darling. I'm perfectly fine." You kissed his nose and he giggled. You stared at him, your beautiful boy, for a moment, enjoying the feelign of his body actually being warm against yours for once, before you asked, "What about you? Are you feeling alright? Good, even?"
Astarion giggled. "Don't sell yourself short, my love, you're absolutely wonderful. I feel amazing. Content. Cared for. Loved." With every word, his voice got smaller, quieter. He seemed to retract into himself. You frowned.
"Where'd you go? Come back to me," you whispered.
He looked back up at you and the tears were back in his eyes, but this time you doubted they were tears of pleasure. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." He sighed. "I didn't mean to disappear on you. It's just...I'm used to that. I'm used to disappearing during sex, after sex... But I didn't do that this time. It was...different with you. It was nice. You've cared for me like no one else ever has. You...you paid attention to what I wanted, how I felt, what I liked. You weren't just using me for your own pleasure. I... It was like...you cared about me. I don't even know what to say! But, ah, you made me feel good, in a lot of ways. So... Thank you, darling."
You cupped his face and kissed him softly. "Of course I care about you, Astarion, I— I...love you."
He tensed up in your arms. A flash of panic passed through his eyes. You shook your head quickly.
"You don't have to say it back," you said hurriedly. "Not until you're ready. But I want you to know exactly how I feel about you. And...I love you."
He smiled and relaxed, melting into your embrace. "Thank you, my love. I...I'm not ready, not quite yet, but...thank you for respecting that. Here—let me cuddle you, I know how much you like that."
The two of you adjusted so that you could lay on your sides. You curled up in his arms and nestled your head into his neck. He carded his fingers through your hair, a gentle movement that was well on its way to lulling you to sleep. You reluctantly pulled yourself away, and only because you had adjusted and suddenly felt the cooling, sticky liquid between your thighs.
"We should get cleaned up," you murmured.
Astarion hummed. "Oh, yes, let me—" He reached for his shirt on the floor and brought it up to himself.
"No, no," you said. "Let me do it."
You took a towel and dampened it in the bowl of lukewarm water on the nightstand—probably there for this exact purpose. You squeezed the excess water out and gently wiped your mixed, drying releases from Astarion's thighs, abdomen, and cock. He sighed softly, relaxing as you cleaned him off.
"No one's ever done this for you before, have they?" you asked. He shook his head. You kissed him softly. "Get used to it, darling, because I intend to do this for you every time."
He grinned, a pleasant blush on his cheeks. "I could get used to this." He took the towel away from you. "Here, let me do it for you."
You laid back and let him slid between your legs. He groaned softly. "Oh, my sweet girl, you look so delicious with my cum dripping out of you."
You blushed fiercely, groaning. "Stop talking like that, or I'm going to demand we go again."
He perked up. "I'm up for a second round—if you can handle it, that is," he added with a cheeky grin.
You considered it for a moment while he wiped your thighs and entrance clean. "Give me an hour and maybe we can."
Astarion smiled and placed a dainty kiss just above your clit. "That's my girl." He laid back down beside you and pulled you into his arms. "Get some rest now, darling, you need it after today."
You wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek against his chest. "Thank you, Astarion. For everything."
He hummed and kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. "You're welcome, my love."
~❊~
You were ready to leave the next morning, and you and Astarion met the others in front of the clerk's desk on the first floor of the inn. Astarion handed back the key while you limped over to the group.
Unsurprisingly, Astarion had left you with quite the limp, even more severe than the first time he'd eaten you out at camp. Karlach didn't even try to contain her laughter at the sight of you.
"So you did fuck her last night!" she said to Astarion as he joined you. You blushed heavily. "We had no idea, couldn't hear a thing!"
Astarion raised an eyebrow, then looked at you with a grin. "They couldn't hear us, even with all the noise you made? We're getting a room at an inn every chance we can get from now on!"
"Not so fast," Gale said quickly, "they might not have heard you, but Wyll and I did!"
You squeaked. "You did?"
Wyll nodded, somewhat amused and somewhat apologetic. "You made noises I didn't think were possible. Or meant pleasure."
You turned immediately to Astarion, who was grinning like a cat, and buried your face in his chest. "Hide me."
"It's alright, darling," he whispered to you. "Gale and Wyll were across the hall from us. Next time, we'll just get a room as far away from the others as possible and I'll make you scream into the wee hours of the morning."
You blushed very brightly and the others groaned.
"Don't break her," Shadowheart chided. "Is your wound—"
"It's fine!" both you and Astarion said before she could continue.
"She's all healed up, no more scarring," Astarion promised. "Believe me, I wouldn't have gone as hard as I did if I thought she would get hurt by it."
"Okay, that's enough!" Gale said quickly. "Let's leave, please, and keep going. We've got important business to attend to!"
As you left the inn, Astarion took your hand and kissed the top of your head. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you? That limp's quite noticeable, dear."
"I'm fine," you promised. "You were quite good last night."
"Good. I'd be inconsolable if I had hurt you," he said. He brush your hair behind you ear. "I mean that, you know."
You leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. "I know, darling. And thank you. Now, come on, help me walk. It will be your fault if I fall."
He snorted. "Because I have you a good orgasm? No, wait, how many did it end up being last night? Two the first time...then another three?"
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, stop bragging! Come on, Gale's right: we've got work to do."
Astarion kissed you one last time, then pulled you against his side and followed the others out of the village.
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin
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me going through the slideshow at the end of da:awakening: ok so this didn't happen. that didn't hapoen. I'm normal about it. It's fine. 😭
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parkerslatte · 6 months
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Overlooked | Part One
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Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: none.
Summary: Y/N, the eldest Archeron sister, and while the Inner Circle are invited to the Autumn Court by Eris, the new High Lord, Y/N and Eris meet for the first time and the bond snaps.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue
•••
Y/N Archeron was always overlooked. Her whole life she would always be looked over in favour of her younger sisters. Of course when Y/N was human, she learnt to live with it. She did what she could to try and support her family, picking up as many jobs as she could. The only one who ever thanked her was Feyre. 
Once Y/N was made into fae and her entire life was flipped upside down, she felt more overlooked than she had in her whole life. Feyre had Rhys. Nesta had Cassian. Elain had Lucien and Azriel. Y/N had no one. Of course Mor took it upon herself to bring her along to Rita’s every time she went. Occasionally Y/N would go home with someone but in recent months, she preferred to be alone. 
Now as she sat alone in her apartment, there was a pain in her heart. The last few months, Y/N had been more lonely than ever. She had barely seen her sisters and the rest of the Inner Circle. Azriel was the only one she had seen and it was in passing, Y/N didn’t stick around for a full conversation. 
There was a knock at her door and Y/N sighed before dragging her feet to the front door and opened it up. Feyre was standing on the other side with a friendly smile on her face. Her hair was tied up and her hands were covered in dried paint. 
“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Feyre said, wrapping her eldest sister in a hug. 
Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled as she wrapped her arms around her youngest sister. It was the first hug she had received in a while. 
“What are you doing here? How’s Nyx?” Y/N asked. 
“He’s great,” Feyre said, lighting up at the mention of her son. “He misses you though.”
“I miss him too,” Y/N said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, but I’ll visit everyone soon.”
“About that,” Feyre said as the two took a seat on Y/N’s couch. “We have been summoned to the Autumn Court. Eris has become the new High Lord and we need to build his trust. There is a ball and we must be in attendance.”
“Oh,” Y/N said, deflating the smallest amount. Her sister hadn’t come to see her to catch up.
“The whole Inner Circle is attending,” Feyre continued. 
“But I’m not a part of the Inner Circle,” Y/N replied. 
“Of course you are!” Feyre exclaimed. “You are family.”
It doesn’t feel like it, Y/N thought.
“When is this happening?” Y/N asked. 
“Two days time,” Feyre replied. 
Y/N only nodded and Feyre stood up from the couch. “I need to get back home, but I’ll come to collect you in two days.” 
Y/N didn’t bother to rise from the couch as Feyre hugged her and bid her goodbye as she exited her home. There was a pain in Y/N’s heart as she folded in on herself. All she wanted was her sisters and even they didn’t have the time for her anymore. 
***
Two days later, Y/N wore a gown that left little to the imagination. The slits in the skirt ended at her upper thigh and the plunging neckline and tight bodice accentuated her curves. Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled at her reflection. 
When Feyre met with Y/N and was winnowed to the rest of the group, she remained on the outskirts. Everyone greeted her yet it felt as if they were only doing it out of common courtesy. Y/N never wanted to go back to her apartment more than ever. 
The Night Court was beautiful and Y/N would admit that. But the moment she got to the Autumn Court, she was taken by its beauty. The colours of the leaves and trees put her at ease. The slight breeze ruffled her hair as a smile tugged at her lips.
The feeling of being in the Autumn Court was different and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing or not. She felt a small tug within her that drew her in. 
While everyone didn’t even stop to look around, Y/N lingered behind everyone looking around in wonder. Even when they entered the hall where the ball was taking place. Y/N gasped. 
The intricate architecture and the walls that seemed to shine took her breath away. The rest of the Inner Circle didn’t even react. Rhysand’s gaze was fixated on Eris standing at the very end of the room, lounging on his throne. 
When Y/N finally tore her gaze away from the high ceiling, her gaze finally landed on Eris. There was a slight tug within her that made her freeze. Eris’s gaze bore into hers as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression hardened just as quickly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N. 
“Rhysand,” Eris greeted, standing up from his throne. “Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”
Y/N didn’t listen to Rhysand’s response as her gaze was fixated on Eris. There was a small frown on her face. There was a tug within her that she didn’t fully understand but she wanted to know more. 
Before Y/N knew it, everyone was mingling as she stood on the outskirts of the room, sipping her wine. Many males had approached her to dance but Y/N simply denied them. She had stayed near her sisters at first but as they went off with their mates, and in Elain’s case, Azriel, Y/N remained on her own. 
Feyre had spoken to her briefly and Nesta and Elain had exchanged a couple of words but there was nothing more than that. There was never anything more than that. 
Y/N watched as everyone danced and truly looked happy. Happier than she had ever seen them. Y/N could tell that she didn’t fit anywhere within their happiness. With a sigh, Y/N placed her empty wine glass down and slipped out of the room. 
She didn’t stray too far, the music could still be heard and Y/N hummed along. The night sky was filled with stars and Y/N simply sat herself down on the grass. The Autumn Court was beautiful. 
Y/N’s relaxed body suddenly tensed as she heard footsteps behind her. 
“The eldest Archeron sister.”
Y/N looked in the direction of the voice and her eyes wide fed as she felt the tug in her chest pull even more as Eris stood beside her. 
“Yes?” Y/N said. 
A smirk was present on Eris’s face as he lowered himself down so sit beside her. She was surprised. The High Lord of Autumn just sat on the grass beside her willingly. From what everyone had spoken about Eris, Y/N didn’t expect him to do that. 
“I haven’t seen you before,” Eris said, his tone casual. 
“I haven’t had a reason to make myself known,” Y/N responded. “I try not to be a part of anyone’s business.”
“But you were Made,” said Eris, leaning back on his elbows. “That makes you everyone’s business.” 
Y/N scoffed. “I never wanted to be Made. I was content with my life.”
Eris hummed.
Y/N glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. The tug happened again and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. 
“I was content with my life when I still felt like I had a family,” Y/N wasn’t entirely sure why she had told Eris that but she felt relieved that it was off her chest. 
Eris frowned. “You have three sisters.”
Y/N laughed humorously. “Three sisters who are happy with their relationships and families that they never spare a look my way. Ever since I was Made and have been trapped within the Night Court, I have felt my own sisters distancing themselves from me. I know it isn’t intentional. They have their own lives and I have mine. They each have their someone. They have someone to look after and someone to look after them. I am completely alone.”
There was nothing stopping the words spilling out of her mouth and she didn’t want to stop them. The weight on her chest was seemingly lifting with every word she spoke. However once Y/N realised who she was speaking to, her words ceased. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about how sad my life is,” Y/N said, wiping away a tear she didn’t know had escaped. 
“You feel trapped in the Night Court?” Eris questioned. 
“Trapped was the wrong word I think,” Y/N said. “I was welcomed at first but Rhys never allowed me to leave on my own in the first few months. I had to either stay indoors or have an escort everyday I went. It was suffocating. Even now, I am still told to stay within Velaris.”
“It has been years,” Eris said. “Why don’t you leave?” 
Y/N shrugged. “I am not sure where I would go. It’s not like I know anyone else and I wouldn’t be welcome back to my old life. So I guess I am trapped.”
Eris didn’t respond as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. He held out his hand to Y/N. 
“Come and dance with me,” Eris said. 
For some reason, Y/N felt herself reaching up to touch his hand. As soon as her fingers brushed his, Eris closed his hand around hers and pulled her to her feet. 
Y/N’s heart raced as they stood chest to chest. That pull in her chest became tight. 
Eris’s eyes glanced down at her, his eyes fighting to remain on her eyes. He failed as he looked down at her body and the dress that clung to it. The colour perfectly matching his jacket. 
“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N questioned, her voice a whisper. 
Eris’s eyes locked with hers again, as Isal could easily get lost in them. “What have they told you about me?”
“That you are rude, manipulative, dangerous,” Y/N answered. “They mentioned that you proposed to my sister after only one dance.”
“And do you know the reason for that,” Eris whispered, stepping closer to Y/N. 
The eldest Archeron shook her head, her heart hammering against her chest as the close proximity. 
“My father,” Eris spat, “was forcing my hand in marriage, he didn’t care who it was. I fought against it but once he…” Eris trailed off and sighed, though Y/N didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he did, but I knew that it would continue if I didn’t marry.”
“So you proposed to my sister,” Y/N concluded.
“I’ll be honest and say that it was a spur of the moment decision and I knew that it would piss off your High Lord and his lapdogs.”
“He isn’t my High Lord,” Y/N responded. 
“Oh? Then who is?” Eris’s voice was low and rumbled in his chest. Y/N's hands moved on their own accord to rest firmly against his firm chest. Not to push him away but to feel him. 
“No one,” Y/N said. “I am not controlled by anyone.”
Eris smirked. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Before Y/N could muster up a response, Eris had laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the ballroom. It was still lively and everyone still danced with their partners. However as Eris entered the room, all attention seemed to divert towards him, and then to Y/N, who didn’t shrink away from the stares. 
Eris brought her to the centre of the ballroom. His gaze focussed on her. Y/N swallowed, suddenly nervous. Even though many others had returned to dancing, Y/N could still feel the stares of those of the Night Court. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rhysand’s face twist into one of anger. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care. 
“Don’t focus on them, just focus on me,” Eris muttered as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her body flush with his and they began to dance to the music. 
At first Y/N couldn’t focus on anything but the stares of her sisters and their mates, but as soon as she felt Eris lightly squeeze her hand, she shifted focus to him. They danced around the ballroom with ease and Y/N found herself smiling. Y/N was surprised that the smirk Eris had was changed. Now a genuine smile graced his handsome face. It suited him.
“You are quite beautiful, Y/N Archeron,probably the most beautiful female I have ever encountered,” Eris muttered.
Y/N flushed and tried to ignore her pounding heart.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N asked as he spun her around. “You never answered my question.”
As she was spun back into his chest, Eris held onto her tightly. “You feel it too, don’t you? That tug. That pull that began as soon as you set eyes on me.”
Y/N didn’t respond but the answer was in her eyes. 
“I feel it too,” Eris whispered into her ear. “And do you know what it is?”
Y/N had a feeling she knew what it was but she didn’t want to say it, in fear of being wrong and in fear of what would happen after. 
“A mating bond,” Eris whispered, his lips brushing against her ear and Y/N’s body was immediately covered in goosebumps. 
Y/N pulled away and looked into Eris’s eyes. There was something in the back of her mind telling her that he was lying and it was all some big joke. But the moment she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity. 
Eris pressed his forehead against Y/N’s and she felt that cord within her tighten more until it snapped into place. There was no more feeling of the pushing and pulling. Her body seemed to get warmer and she gasped. 
“You are my mate,” Y/N said in disbelief. 
Eris smiled. “And you are mine.”
From across the ballroom, Rhysand stood with the rest of the Inner Circle, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at Eris. The High Lord of Autumn, listed his gaze from Y/N for the first time since they had begun to dance and locked it onto Rhysand. 
“I think your brother in law wants to talk,” Eris commented. 
Y/N ripped her attention away from Eris and turned it to her family standing the opposite side of the ballroom. Feyre’s eyes held a sense of pleading for her to get away from Eris. Nesta and Elain stood by her side, unreadable expressions on both of their faces. 
“Why should I care what they have to say? It’s not like they have taken any care in what I have to say.” Y/N answered. 
“I would love to return to dancing with you and let Rhysand do his own thing, whether that be leaving or brooding,” Eris said, his hand gripping her waist. “But I need to keep up appearances tonight.”
Eris led Y/N out of the ballroom and into the hallway, the rest of the Inner Circle following behind them. 
“What are you doing with him, Y/N?” Rhysand said as soon as the door was closed. 
“Dancing,” Y/N responded bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.
“Y/N, just come with us,” Feyre pleaded to her older sister. 
“Why?” Y/N exclaimed. “It’s not as if any of you even notice I’m there half of the time.”
“That’s not true,” Feyre said.
“Yes it is,” Y/N said, letting it all out. “When Tamlin gave us the money and Nesta, Elain and I lived in that house, the two of you barely ever spoke to me. After Elain and Nesta were thrown into the cauldron, no one even batted an eye once I was thrown in. None of you even cared even though I was screaming for someone to save me.”
“Of course we care, Y/N,” Nesta spoke up.
“You all have a funny way of showing it,” Y/N answered. “When everything was over I thought that I could have my sisters back, I thought that we could finally be a family after everything. But I was wrong, you all had someone who you valued over me. At first it didn;t bother me. I know that once you all had your mates, I wouldn’t be at the top of your priority list but I seemed to be right at the bottom.”
Tears fell from Y/N’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “None of you told me that Feyre could have died from childbirth.”
The Inner Circle were silent. 
“When Feyre stopped by a few days ago, I was happy. I thought that you had come to talk to me and catch up but the only thing you did was tell me about this ball where my presence wouldn’t even be missed if I hadn’t attended.”
“Y/N, we are sorry you feel this way but do you realise who you are dancing with–”
Y/N cut Rhysand off with a scoff. “I just poured my heart out to all of you and that is all you have to say. Did any of you even notice me leave earlier? I think not. Eris followed me and was the one to ask if I was okay. He was the one who actually listened and took notice of me.”
“Y/N, we can talk about this back home,” Feyre said.
“Home? Velaris has never been my home,” Y/N said. “All of you made sure of that when you forgot I existed.”
“We didn’t forget about you, Y/N,” Elain piped up. “We love you.”
Y/N shook her head and hardly wiped the tears away. “If you loved me, you would act like it. You would check in on me from time to time. You would invite me to your family dinners that I never get an invite to. You would act like my sisters and not strangers. None of you were there when I needed you most.”
A tear slipped down Feyre’s cheek as she looked at her sister. “I am so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive us. Come home, we can make this right.”
Y/N shook her head. “I am staying here.”
Everyone looked surprised, even Eris, whose arm hadn’t left Y/N’s waist. 
“You are not staying here, Y/N,” Rhysand said. “As your High Lord–”
“You are going to command me to come back with you?” Y/N said. “Really, Rhysand, after all of that?”
“If I may interject,” Eris spoke up as Rhysand shot him daggers. “If Y/N does not want to return to you, I will have a room set up for her here and she will be looked after until she wishes to return.”
“She is not staying–”
“I am!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am staying here because Eris has been the only one to not make me feel invisible and useless.”
“Y/N, please,” Feyre said, her final attempt to try and convince Y/N.
Y/N shook her head. “I would prefer to stay here, at least until I am ready to see you all again.”
“How long will that be?” Elain asked. 
“I don’t know,” Y/N responded and Eris gently squeezed her waist in reassurance. 
Feyre nodded. “If that is what you wish, Y/N.”
“It is,” Y/N said. “Now please, leave me alone.”
Y/N turned on her heel and walked down the hallway until she was out of sight. 
Once she was around the corner, Y/N finally let out a sob, the weight was gone from her chest but at a cost. Her sisters probably hated her now. But she couldn’t stay in the Night Court, she didn’t belong there. It wasn’t her home and would never be her home. 
“Are you okay?” Eris asked, appearing behind her. 
Y/N tried to quiet her sobs but failed. 
Eris was by her side in an instant with his arms wrapped around her, chin resting on top of her head. Y/N immediately felt safe and secure in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him tightly. The bond connecting the two filled Y/N with an emotion she couldn’t place. 
“They left,” Eris muttered. “They won’t bother you anymore.”
“Is it true?” Y/N said, pulling away from him to gaze up at him, her eyes bloodshot. “Can I really stay here?”
“For as long as you like,” Eris replied, brushing her tears away. 
“And what of the bond?” Y/N asked.
“That can be your decision,” Eris said. “If you choose to accept it or not, you will have a place at the Autumn Court.”
Y/N nodded. “Thank you, I have only just met you but you have been so kind to me.”
Eris smiled. “You need not thank me for that. You deserve kindness.”
Y/N rested her hand over his heart. “As do you, Eris.”
Eris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can show you to your room if you wish.”
“But what about the party?” Y/N questioned.
“Who cares?” Eris said. “My priority is to make sure that you are okay and looked after if you are staying here. I am not going to let my mate in just any room here, I will make sure you have the most luxurious one, right after mine, of course.”
Y/N laughed for what felt like the first time in a while. Eris smiled at the sound.
“Thank you, Eris,” Y/N said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
Eris laced their fingers together and squeezed her hand and led her down the hallway. Y/N squeezed his hand back and happily walked alongside him. No longer would she be overlooked, not when she had Eris by her side.
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Epilogue
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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader
Warnings: tiny bit of angst, mentions of past trauma, fluff, smut mdni (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, praising, dad jokes
Words:
Synopsis: Years later, you and Simon are still together but as more than roommates….
You are currently reading the last part to The Roommate Series
Few years later…
You were bored. 
So bored that you were worried you might start nodding off, like a few of the others who sat in the seats next to you. You should’ve been more excited about the fact that you were finally graduating, but it was difficult to feel anything other than the slight need of sleep when one of the professors conducting the speech wouldn’t stop talking.
How long had he been talking for? You’re zoned out a while ago, wishing you could pull out your phone to scroll through social media or check your messages just to pass the time until he was finally done. Instead, you had to sit there and listen to him ramble about something until it was time for you to walk.
You’d much rather be checking your messages now that you thought about it. Simon was supposed to text you this morning before you went to the ceremony since he was still on a mission, but you had gotten nothing the last time you checked.
Your feelings were a little hurt, but it worried you more than anything. If he couldn’t text you he was working and that meant it was possible he could be hurt-
You let out a deep breath, letting the thought drift away before it started to fester. 
Simon was fine. He spoke to you last night so he was probably just busy. You could text him when the ceremony was over, maybe even call him if he had enough time to spare. It would be nice to hear him and tell him all about the time you wasted listening to the professor who was one strong breeze from turning into dust.
You perked up when the professor stepped down and clapped a little more enthusiastically than you meant to. You watched as another professor came up to the podium and announced with the same kind of excitement that it was time to hand out diplomas.
You watched the first row of grads walk towards the podium to be announced. As they walked across the stage you couldn’t help but feel a little bittersweet about the situation.
Simon had planned to be here to celebrate with you. You both had come up with a plan to go out to eat at a fancy restaurant and maybe get a couple drinks after everything was over. 
He had been excited about it, not only because he got to spend time with you but he was happy that you were graduating. He was taking it seriously, making reservations and finding the best outfit to go with yours, making sure everything was planned how you wanted it…
And then duty called. 
You were upset, not knowing whether or not he’d be back in time, but eventually you came to terms with it. Judging by the texts Simon had sent you since then, he hadn’t come to terms with it, declaring that he would be there no matter what, even when you assured him it was okay.
You determined from his silence that he was still there. 
It hurt but that was the price to pay. Sometimes he’d miss out on important stuff with you because of work, that was life when you loved someone in his profession, but it made it all worth it because it was Simon.
He had left just two months ago and you assumed he wouldn’t be back for a few more.
Your row got up and you walked towards the stage. It almost didn’t feel real that you were graduating, that after all the hardships you had with your classes that it was finally over and that you were more prepared for life than before.
You could at least share it with Simon when he got back.
Your name was announced and as you stepped up to get your diploma you heard loud cheering which made you jump. You and everyone looked around for the source, everyone else clapped and gave maybe small whoops, but this was cheering you’d hear at a football game.
Tears welled up in your eyes and a grin stretched across your face when you saw them.
All of them, Simon, Price, John and Kyle were in the crowd. Simon held a bouquet of flowers and waved to you as if you couldn’t pick him out within the crowd of families who were mostly quiet. 
But that didn’t stop you from waving back to him, showing him your diploma with a chest full of pride that made you beam brightly at him. You felt even happier when he raised his fist, cheering louder for you.
It took everything in you to not run over to him. You still had to go through the ceremony and weren’t sure if the professors would be too happy if you ran out before it was over. That didn’t stop you from constantly peeking over your shoulder at him with anticipation, just waiting for the moment that you were allowed to go.
When it was over, you practically sprinted to them. You barely gave Simon enough to make sure you didn’t crush the flowers before you threw yourself on top of him, holding onto him with a tight grip as you blinked back tears.
Simon held you back just as tight. He let out a heavy sigh of relief and he nearly melted into your arms. He chuckled lowly and gave you a quick squeeze before  you slipped out of his grasp to look at him.
“You’re here!” You pulled back and drank him in.
He was wearing a mask to cover the lower half of his face but you didn’t catch any bruises or scrapes anywhere on the uncovered spots of his face. He stood perfectly fine like the rest of them and watched you with soft eyes so full of love that your smile grew bigger when he leaned closer to you.
He was alive and well, and now he was back here with you.
“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Simon said softly while he offered you the flowers and your heart swelled as you took them.
You let out a soft thank, so overwhelmed with emotions you weren’t sure how to process or handle them. All you could do was hold the flowers, try not to tear up and stare at Simon with every ounce of pure love you had within you. You had half the mind to pull him down for a kiss or to not let go of him, but you had to tell yourself that you were in public.
You settled on holding his hand which he seemed to gratefully take because you held onto it with a firm grip.
It could wait until you both got back to your shared apartment.
“We should celebrate.” Price spoke up and you nodded. “I’ll pay.”
Kyle and John cheered while you laughed. You tried to tell him he didn’t have to but he wasn’t hearing it, quickly dismissing any of your worries that it would be too much or that he didn’t have to since there was no reason for it. 
When you looked at Simon for help he only shrugged before he leaned in close to your ear.
“I’ll pay for us.” 
“That’s not any better!”
He chuckled and squeezed your hand. His eyes twinkled when you gave him an exasperated look before he pressed a quick kiss to your temple through the mask. He pulled you close and kept your hand in his while you all walked to the parking lot where you’d decide to go to dinner.
You spent the entirety of dinner catching up, but mostly just staring at Simon who seemed to stare back at you just as much. 
It hadn’t been long, not nearly as long as the many other times he had left for work, yet it was just the same as always. Every moment with him gone hurt but once he got back you felt so much better knowing that not only was he alive but that he had come back. It made every second worth it.
You could tell that he was feeling the same. His hand barely left yours and when it did he rested it on your thigh, his eyes never once losing their look of pride when he looked over at you. He seemed to have fallen head over heels for you again and you sure he would tell you just that if you said something.
You’d be lying if you said that you also hadn’t fallen in love with him again. 
You did it every day.
You all parted ways after dinner, but not without the promise of drinks sometime later in the week and possibly other times where you all got to hang out. 
“How do you feel?” Simon wondered as the two of you walked to your car.
“It honestly hasn’t set in yet.” You told him truthfully. You hadn’t really accepted that you had graduated and didn’t need to go to classes anymore. You were back to the way things were before you enrolled in the university, older and a little more wise, but not much different. At least you knew how to transition into a full time job. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Good or bad?”
You glanced at him, noticing the slight worry in his eyes. You gave him a small smile however and leaned your head against his shoulder.
“Good.”
Simon helped you in the car and playfully took the keys from you. On the drive back to the apartment, he kept his hand on your knee and you kept your hand on top of his.
“You know,” You caught his attention as you gave him a knowing look. “My job doesn’t start for another couple weeks or so.”
“Yeah?” He mumbled and squeezed your leg.
You hummed and a smug smile pulled at your lips. You slid his hand a little further up your leg and watched as his grip tightened on the wheel. You had to suppress a laugh when he let out a short huff, knowing full well what you were doing.
“Yeah…and I don’t have anything planned. Which means I’m all yours.”
Simon grunted and you bit your lip. Anyone else would’ve thought he was being dismissive, but you knew him too well. You could see the light blush on the tips of his ears and judging by the way he shifted in his seat you knew he was starting to get hard.
If he wasn’t flustered you were sure he’d lightly scold you for making him that way.
The drive back to the apartment was quicker than normal and the two of you rushed to get inside.
Your new apartment was smaller than the last but no less homey. You and Simon could be found everywhere and in every corner, the place completely lived in and inviting. There was only one bedroom and the bathroom was too small for both of you to be in there at the same time but it was home.
The door didn’t even close behind the two of you before Simon had his hands on your hips. He ripped the mask off and kissed you tenderly, capturing your lips in his as he pulled you into his chest. He didn’t give you a chance to breathe while his hands roamed your body, feeling you as if he were mapping out your body for the first time.
You kissed him back just as fervently, clutching onto him and letting out soft moans that made him kiss you harder. You barely had enough time to set the flowers down without harming them before he was peeling your outfit off you.
He left hot kisses across your neck down to your chest, kissing the dog tags he gave you. You let out a gasp when he sucked a mark on your breast before he very gently pushed you down on the couch. He hovered above you, pinning you down onto the cushions and let you tug him forward into another kiss.
“Been too long. I missed you.” He breathed into your mouth desperately and you hummed.
“I missed you too.” You gasped again when he pushed his finger past your wet folds. 
Simon swallowed your moans as he rubbed circles into your clit. The rough pads of his fingertips were almost too much after not being touched by him for weeks but the electric waves of pleasure that ran through you stopped any chance for you to protest, as if you would anyway.
His other hand held your face and he kissed you tenderly. He continued to steal the air out of your lungs, making you feel like you were floaty. When he began to pump two fingers inside, you let out a loud whine.
“I thought about you everyday.” He kissed underneath your jaw and curled his fingers, brushing them against the spot that had your entire body twitching. “Thought about what I’d do when I saw you again, how proud I’d be.”
“Simon!” You moaned when he began to play with your clit again.
His fingers moved in and out of you quickly while he kept a steady pace on your sensitive bud. 
You held onto his arms as you felt yourself clench around his fingers, the band in your stomach pulling tighter while your toes curled. It was impossible for you to breathe while whimpers and moans escaped your lips, small pleas for him to keep going falling off your tongue. 
The band snapped unexpectedly and your eyes fluttered shut while you clenched around his fingers. You whimpered as he kept going, unable to catch your breath while he kissed your neck.
“Need you.” You whined while you still twitched from your orgasm.
“M’right here, love.” He said breathlessly as he pulled his fingers out of you.
Simon wasted no time unbuckling his jeans, pushing them down far enough to let his cock out. He pumped it a few times, the red and dripping precume before he lined it up with your wet cunt.
You gasped and moaned when he slowly pushed in. The stretch of taking his length always made you clench and flutter around him, the slight pain eventually melting into pleasure enough for you to come on his cock before he even got it in fully.
He moaned from feeling you and his eyes going heavy as he watched him stretch you out. He went slow, just like he always did, and played with your clit to make you whine just a little more.
Before long he was fully seated inside you but didn’t move. 
You could barely breathe as you adjusted to his size, never fully able to, while he kept his thumb on your clit. You whimpered and placed a hand on his chest, noticing that he came home without a scratch and dug your nails into his flesh.
“Simon…” You begged softly, wiggling your hips to get him to move.
“Wanna make you feel good, love.” He said but grabbed your wrist and began to thrust.
You cried out when the head of his cock nudged the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You keened and arched your back into him as he rolled his hips against yours to keep a steady rhythm. 
Every thrust made your eyes heavy and he added pressure to your clit. He deepened his thrusts and you moaned his name loudly which only fueled the fire in his stomach.
You could feel yourself getting close again, already unable to keep away from the edge as he nearly bruised your cervix. You pulled him down and kissed him hard, holding his hand as you clenched around him again.
He sped up ever so slightly and you couldn’t breathe.
Your entire body tingling and you couldn’t speak. You rested your legs on his hips and he thrust into you until your eyes rolled back and your entire body shook. You could barely hear him moan as you fluttered around his cock before he began to thrust sloppily.
“My pretty girl.” He said proudly into your mouth. “My smart girl, ‘m so proud of you.” 
Simon grabbed the back of your knees and pushed your legs towards your chest. He groaned and you writhed underneath him, the pleasure too much as you still rode the waves of your second orgasm. 
You came again unexpectedly and he cummed inside of you with a strained moan. You whimpered as you felt his cock twitch inside you, filling you up and spreading warmth across your lower abdomen.
He thrust inside you a few more times before he nearly collapsed on top of you. He rested his head against your forehead and you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you.
The two of you laid there to catch your breath, leaving small kisses across each other’s skin while you played with the hair on his neck that had gotten a tad longer than when he left.
When he pulled away you beamed up at him and got a smile in return. The hormones were slowly slipping away but that didn’t stop the elation in your heart as you stared up at him as if this was the first time you were seeing him today.
“Welcome home.” You traced his nose and he kissed your hand. “I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I have to keep up with the tradition!”
He scoffed but conceded and rested his forehead on yours, pulling you into an embrace that you gratefully accepted.
You spent the rest of the evening catching up and sharing soft touches, slowly riling each other up a couple more times before it was time to go to bed. While he took a shower, after you since he insisted, you went through your nightly routine of making sure the apartment was secured.
It was a habit you formed not long after moving here, one both you and Simon kept up because of what happened. You went first, going around to all of the windows to make sure they were locked and closed, shutting the curtains to them, before you checked the lock on the door, always doubling locking it. Then Simon would check after you, not because he didn’t have faith in you, but for his own sake. 
Just as you were about to shut off the TV, the news caught your attention.
“International threat and now former commander of the Konni Group Vladamir Makarov has been reported killed today. The Ultranationalist was responsible for multiple terrorist attacks across multiple countries and now his body is being recovered by the US government…”
You watched the news put up a picture of the man. You remembered well of the few attacks that had taken place far from you but that caused an uproar on the international scale two months ago. You remembered the sinking feeling in your stomach, knowing in the back of your mind that Ghost had been there risking his life again to catch him.
You thought about how he might be dead, how he might’ve gotten injured. How many close calls he had and if he ever thought that he wouldn’t be able to see you again.
Now he was dead…
“Love.” Simon caught your attention and you looked over at him.
He had a serious look on his face as he glanced at the TV for a moment. An almost silent conversation occurred between the two of you when he looked back at you, his dark eyes saying enough about the situation, before he gestured towards the bedroom.
“Let’s go to bed.”
You turned the TV off and walked towards him, bringing him into a short embrace where you placed a quick peck on his cheek.
“I’m glad you’re home.” 
You’re not sure what time it was when your eyes snapped open. It was still dark out and the silence outside told you it had to be in the middle of the night. It took you a moment to come to your senses, your heart racing just a little faster as you came down from the nightmare you just had, to realize that you were in your shared bedroom.
You took a deep breath and that was when you noticed the comforting circles being drawn on your arm.
You turned over and met Simon’s eyes in the darkness. You weren’t sure if you had woken him up with your nightmare or if he had one of his own, but neither of you said anything.
You rolled over and he immediately opened his arms to you. Before long you were cuddled into his side, your head on top of his chest while he wrapped a protective arm around you, starting his ministrations again once you were settled. 
The two of you laid in silence for a while. You drank up each other’s presence in the stillness, slowly waiting for the tense feelings to dissipate into peacefulness before either of you decided to go back to sleep. 
Your eyes were on the door, on the heavy laundry basket you put in front of it to keep anyone from coming in. 
The fear of the man coming back was mostly gone, he had been dealt with a long time ago, but it didn’t feel right to keep the door unblocked. You were grateful that Simon let you do it even though there were some nights when you didn’t need it at all. 
You shut your eyes and listened to his steady heart beat, feeling you slowly rise up and down from his breathing. 
“What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?” 
“...What?”
“Sofishticated.”
You giggled, hiding your face in his chest as he let out a chuckle. He hugged you closer and you felt him press a soft kiss to your temple on the spot where your scar was. 
When your giggling fit was over you looked up at him.
“Did you memorize the book again?” You mumbled, not wanting to break the silence.
“Yes.” He mumbled back with a small smile. “You gave me a new one, had to.”
You shook your head with disbelief, a smile spread across your face as you snuggled closer into him, pressing a kiss to his chest as you did so. Your hand found the scar on his torso and you ran your fingers across it, causing him to tense up underneath your touch.
Another scar added to the others. More pain he had gone through and yet he was still here. 
Simon traced the scar on your temple with his thumb and you wondered if he thought the same thing. If he thought about the pain that you now carried but  that you were still here.
The pain would only lessen, it would never go away but that didn’t scare you. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, and you knew things would continue to change, but the one constant was that he was always by your side and you were always by his. 
Suddenly the tension was gone.
“We’re still alive.” You thought out loud after another moment of silence.
“Yeah.” He breathed out. “We are.”
You sat up and he did as well.
You took his face into your hands, holding him gently as you caressed his cheek with your thumb, touching the scar close to his eye as you stared into him with a hopeless amount of love that seemed to consume your entire being. 
He placed his hands on your hips and stared at you with soft eyes full of the same deep all consuming love that you felt. 
“I love you.” He said barely above a whisper.
“I love you too.” You replied back just as softly.
In the darkness you kissed. It was slow and gentle, warm and comforting. All of the fear you had poured out and turned into nothing as you held each other. There was nothing there but the two of you, no threats and no one to bother you as you laid in the sanctuary of each other's arms.
Like every night you two went to sleep knowing that the other would be there, ready to start a new day.
The End
link to masterlist
A/n: don’t worry, their story isn’t over yet but we’ll let them rest for now ❤️ (i hope this wasn't too disappointing of an ending I tried to make it emotional and i got emotional writing but idk if that translated well anyway hope you guys liked it first time finishing a series like this haha)
tags: @kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazingx @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepselecric @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @mavieemav @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison
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hazelfoureyes · 1 month
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The SafeWord is RadioApple (a tidbit epilogue to part 3)
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@readergirlstuff
You rested your cheek on the bar, hangover in full effect but the cool wood was calming the headache.
“Sooo, who wears the pants in this triangle of horrors.” Angel leaned back against the bar, watching Lucifer and Alastor glare at each other from separate armchairs.
“Now that’s a dumb question.” Husk shook his head.
“Okay if it’s so obvious then you tell me.”
Husk put his hands up defensively, “Not stupid because it’s obvious, but because only an idiot would piss off the cruelest overlord and the king of hell with one sentence.”
“The king is always going to come out on top.” Luci smiled directly at Alastor.
“Funny, you spent your night on your back.” Alastor rose his newspaper to block out the view of Luci.
“Who am I to deny one of my people the chance to serve their majesty?”
Alastor cackled, wiping tears from his eyes, “Serve? You were literally begging for my-“
“YOU ASKED ME TO!” Horns fully grown, on his feet.
“You sounded like you meant it.” Alastor’s body grew to twice his size, antlers hitting the bar’s overhang as static cut in and out of his voice.
“Enough! Shh. Quiet.” You pulled a napkin over your head to block out the bright lights. “I need you both to shut the fuck up for like, 5 minutes.”
Both men stilled, returning to their seats. Lucifer scrolled on his phone, sheepish. Alastor returned to his paper.
Angel tapped the bar, “Not so obvious, was it, whiskers.”
“Damn.” Husk shook his head.
“Kiss kiss love you sorry,” you offered, a pang of guilt for being so rude to them. Especially in front of others. You knew you’d have to make amends later.
Lucifer perked up, eyes wide and shining, “did you say-?”
Alastor’s smile nearly dropped, an unseen audience awwing over the radio static as he accidentally ripped the newspaper in half, “what was that now?”
Fuck.
A little tidbit of:
⟢Lucifer x Reader x Alastor - The Safeword is RadioApple smut💦
Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
3/30 Just realized I didn’t tag the cult and this will be referenced in the next part soooo
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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brabblesblog · 5 months
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They will never be you.
A small drabble set post-Cazador, pre-epilogue.
What if Astarion’s not the only insecure one in the relationship?
Angsty-ish with a happy ending. Enjoy!
Read on AO3.
Masterlist.
The drow who was now half draped over his arm was stunning.
You watch from across the room, your dinner half-eaten and abandoned, as he smirks at her and not so coyly puts his hand over her knee. Part of you wants to just storm over and ask him what the hell he was playing at, but the larger part of you thinks that this was to be expected.
After all, how was someone like you expected to match up to someone like him? Someone who turned heads wherever he went, who without any conscious effort stole the hearts of whoever was foolish enough to look at him for too long?
And you? You’re just you. You’ve never turned heads. You were never first choice.
Sure, he had chosen you. But really, weren’t you chosen because of circumstance? You were his first. You had chosen to protect him. You had saved him. How can you not be chosen?
You like to think you were special because you had seen beyond his physical beauty. Had loved him for more than that. However, you know it could have been anyone. Anyone in your position could have also done the same thing.
You weren’t chosen. You just happened to be there.
The slam of your mug down on the table makes everyone stop what they’re doing and look over at you. It would be embarrassing, if you weren’t so consumed with your thoughts.
“I’m retiring for the night. If Astarion looks for me, let him know.”
With that, you leave your half-eaten food and rise from the table, leaving all of your companions stunned.
The only companion not on the table however, misses it. He’s still hand in hand with the drow, whispering into her ear.
The door to your room opens an hour or so later, snapping you out of your nap. You glare as he steps in, and to your surprise and extreme annoyance, he looks giddy.
“Darling, the others told me you left early! You missed-“
Astarion narrowly dodges the shoe you throw at his head. He blinks, the grin slowly disappearing off of his face.
“What’s wrong?”
You stand, trying to not show any sign of the internal anguish you feel.
“I know you’re a bastard, but you could have at least broken up with me or said something before you start picking someone else up in front of my face!”
He blinks, then realization dawns on his expression. He moves quickly, and in a second he’s right by you. He offers you his hands, keeping them close but not pushing to touch you.
“It’s not- that’s not what it was,” he says quietly. “I thought you’d know I was putting on an act.”
“Act or not - it hurts.”
A moment to steel yourself. You don’t really want to open this can of worms, but it needs to happen.
“Look. If you’re done with this. Us. You could just say so, like a normal person,” you say, the sound of defeat inevitably present in your tone.
“And why would you think that?” Comes the reply. He moves to sit by you on the bed. “I trusted you to know that it was just an act. I saw something, and wanted to have it.”
Your mind goes to the worst possible option, naturally.
“Well, did you have it? Did you have her, then?”
With Cazador’s death, Astarion had began to rediscover his sexuality and reclaim it. You are happy for him, of course, but now you wonder if he’s shopping around for better options than you.
He laughs at your words. It is a little incredulous.
“If I wasn’t talking to you, love, I would have thought you insecure,” he begins, but as he finishes his sentence the truth hits him: you are.
You’ve always been the calm, collected one to him. You’ve always seemed so secure and so sure of your relationship. He was the insecure one. He was always frightened of the day you’d realize you could find better.
Now he sees the truth you’ve never really let slip.
He takes a deep breath, unsure how to approach this. Then, he digs inside his pocket and quickly shows you what he has in there. An aquamarine ring, set in an intricately carved band.
“I spotted this the moment we walked into the inn. And I had to have it,” he murmurs in a very different tone. “I got it for you.”
You exhale roughly, and pick up the ring from his hand. “So you decided stealing it by flirting with the drow was how you’re going to show your love?”
It felt ridiculous, but when was he not?
He chuckes. “That was the idea. The execution could have gone a bit more smoothly.” He figures he should have told you of his plan, but then again, would you have even agreed? And he did so want to give you something nice.
You are silent for a few moments, and then you nod.
“All forgiven, then. Just let me know next time.” You’d rather just sweep everything under the rug, since you were proven wrong. And you don’t really want him prying into..
“Did you think I was going to replace you, darling?”
Shit. You wince. “Yes.”
The truth needs to be said. You face him. “Look. I’m just me. I’m your.. whatever I am, because I was there. Had it been anyone else, then it would have been them. I’m-“
“Does it matter who was there? Who was first, who was not? I agree. It could have been someone else. But it wasn’t. It was you.” Astarion shakes his head. “And that is the end of it.”
“And if one day, you tire of me? If you realize you could have a more beautiful, more desirable partner who would also understand and love the real you? If you realize that you could literally have the most beautiful-“
Your words die as lips are pressed against yours, insistent but not rough. He pulls away.
“I needed to shut you up,” he says. “You’re speaking nonsense about my darling, and I will not have it.”
“I’m not special,” you hiss, at last finally managing to get the words out. This venomous thought had been in the back of your mind ever since you had gotten together, but was only voiced now. It was never just him who was insecure about the relationship.
“Right you are,” he acquiesces, “but neither is anyone else.”
“No one deserves better. We aren’t owed anything.” This he knows from experience. His hand finds yours, and takes the ring back. He holds it between thumb and forefinger, peering at it.
“But you are the one who was put in my path, darling. You’re the one I love. None of those other what ifs matter,” he adds, his hand taking yours and slipping the ring on.
You glance down at the ring and sigh. It is indeed, gorgeous.
“I won’t find someone better. Someone younger. Someone- whatever-“ he waves a hand dismissively.
“One, we’ll find a way for you to live forever. Two-“ and he holds up a hand.
“They will never be you.”
Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
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Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.
🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]
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“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.
He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror. 
“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”
You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.
‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.
‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.
Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.
‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’
‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’
So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.
Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.
“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.
“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.
“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.
“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”
“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”
“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. “It’s in everyone’s best interest.”
You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.
“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”
The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.
“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”
“Two weeks?!” you wailed.
Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”
“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.
“Ace!”
The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.
“That is acceptable.”
Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.
“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”
You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.
“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.  
There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.
“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”
“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”
‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’
“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.
Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.
“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”
Your life flashed before your eyes.
“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.
“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”
.
.
The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.
“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.
He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.
You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.
He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.
There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.  
“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”
He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.
“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”
The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.
However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.
You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…
An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.
“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”
He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.  
You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.
“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"
.
.
The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.
“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.
He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”
Oh for fucks sake.
Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.
“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”
He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”
“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”
He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.
“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”
He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.
The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.
But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.
“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”
He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.
“You don’t find it pleasing.”
Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—
“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.
“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”
The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.
“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.
Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.
“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.
“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.
You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.
“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”
“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”
You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.
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writingsbychlo · 4 months
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UNDER THE MISTLETOE | epilogue
summary; a year later, your bond with azriel is still going just as strong. new years eve with your mate couldn't be sweeter.
word count; 3171
notes; I know this was highly anticipated, and I'm sorry it's so short, but it is just an epilogue, not a full fic! I hope this isn't too disappointing to anyone! <3
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Staring out across the beautiful cityscape of Velaris, your eyes wandered across the twinkling lights of the town. From house to house, all over the city. The rainbow was lit up even more magnificently than usual tonight, celebrations so loud you could hear them from here if you strained your ear, cheers and singing and dancing, the revelry of happy people, finally celebrating in peace after so many years of darkness. 
Beyond them, snow-capped mountains glowed under the bright moonlight and the stars, the clear sky a lucky twist of fate, as though even the Heavens wanted to be here tonight, watching. Second to Starfall, New Year's was your favourite holiday. A chance for a fresh start, to reflect on everything, to make new plans or to wipe the slate clean. To watch fireworks explode in the cold night sky, glittering and beautiful. 
Taking a sip of Rhysand’s expensive champagne from the glass in your hand, you sighed happily. As you did, a pair of strong arms circled your waist, familiar hands smoothing over your stomach, and tugging you back into a firm chest. Warm lips fell to the crook of your neck as your head fell back on his shoulder, delicate kisses dotted along your shoulder. Dropping your free hand to clasp those around your body, you traced your fingers delicately over scarred skin, eyes slipped closed in his embrace. 
“Hello, my love.” His voice was a low murmur, deep in your ear and humming along your skin. 
“Hi, Azzy.”
Turning in his arms, you looped your hands carefully around his neck, his head bowing to meet your own as he finally stole a sweet, simple kiss for your lips. He tasted like whiskey and sugar, no doubt pumped full of candy Nyx forced him to try, the small boy having kept him hostage all night. Despite it, he’d never let you out of his sights, you’d barely been out here for ten minutes before Azriel had come to find you, following you like a puppy. 
Leaning in a little further, your tongue teased along his lower lip, and he let out a soft groan as he parted them. The kisses grew, his mouth sealing over your own, passion like it was the first kiss you’d ever shared all over again, not the thousandth. Tightening your hold on him, his wings fluttered, circling your body to close out the rest of the world as he hauled you in further, up against his chest. 
Your heart was thudding in time with his own, beating in sync like they had done for just over a year now. 
Only days ago, you’d celebrated your one-year anniversary, taking a few days up at the cabin and away from every, just the two of you, no clothes, and a lot of sleepless nights. The desperation might have died down, but the infatuation still remained as strong as ever. One look, one touch, one kiss was enough to drive you crazy. You were utterly at his mercy, him just as much at yours, and you truly hoped that the intensity between you both never faded. 
He pulled back with a sigh, one more final kiss left on your lips, before he was smiling, forehead on your own. “What are you doing out here, it’s cold.”
You couldn't hep but smirk at that, brows raising a little as you looked up at him. It certainly wasn’t the coldest you’d ever been, there wasn’t even a layer of goosebumps on your exposed skin. But, he had always been a worrier, and your mate bond only seemed to enhance that, even now. “Just… thinking, that’s all.”
“Good thoughts, I hope?” He leaned in, a peck to your lips before you could even respond, and you smiled, stealing another one when he pulled back. 
“Thoughts about us.” your nose bumped his as you leaned up. You tipped your head further, pecking the tip of his nose, and he smiled sweetly. His cheeks flushed with a little warmth, the same way they always did when you gave him this kind of attention, a happy sound escaping him at that affection. 
“Care to share any of these thoughts?”
“All in due time,” You whisper in response, and he merely grunts, “Just thinking about the future.”
“I do that a lot too.”
You knew as much, Azriel had a habit of telling you. When you’d get in bed at night, his head on your chest, all the weight of him grounding you to the mattress as you played with the soft, dark curls atop his head, he’d spill about his day. All the thoughts he’d had, the jokes Cassian had told him, the things that reminded him of you, and his plans. His ideas, even the goofy ones that he knew he wouldn't actually do. 
There wasn’t a thing he ever wanted to keep to himself, and you liked to soak up every part of him that you could. 
The music from inside could reach you, even out here, a band playing beautiful songs and together, the two of you began to sway. No talk was needed but your body moved with his, your feet staying planted as you danced together gently, wrapped in one another’s embrace. His face dipped down, burying into your neck again, and he sighed happily onto your skin. 
The moment was perfect… only broken when Azriel received a small shove. 
Untangling yourselves, he glanced around, gaze dropping to the ground, to see a moody toddler, arms crossed. “Uncle Az, you said we were going to colour in my book!”
Azriel gave you an exasperated look, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, before stepping back. Leaning down, he scooped Nyx up under his arms, lifting him up into his arms. The small boy’s wings batted angrily, portraying his emotions. He truly as a little lordling, always used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. 
“Alright, little bat. Come on.” Your mate sighed, adjusting the boy to sit on his hip and stepping towards the door. You watched them go, a small smile on your lips, and he turned back to look at you. “Don’t stay out here too long, love.”
You shook your head, offering your hand to him as you walked forward. His smile grew, and he took your fingers, linking them with his own and raising your clasped hands to kiss your knuckles. Leading you both inside, Nyx babbled on about the drawings he and Az would be colouring in, you were pointedly not invited at any stage of events as you made your way back to the ballroom, and Azriel rolled his eyes fondly when the youngster wasn’t looking. 
Stepping back into the bustle of the room, you glanced around, gasping happily when you spotted a familiar face and two heads of white hair in the crowd. 
Azriel only chuckled, releasing your hand and motioning for you to go, before dropping Nyx down and being led away by the hand. 
Darting through the people, Vivianne saw you just in time, a squeal on her lips as she opened her arms for you to fly into. The two of you collided gently, arms wrapping tightly around one another. 
You cupped her face, kissing both of her cheeks as she smiled, all but bouncing as you were reunited. You’d kept in touch all year, letters going back and forth so fast you could hardly keep up with them, but for one reason or another, you’d yet to have crossed paths again, life always getting in the way. Until now. 
“You’re here, you made it!”
Pulling back from her, Kallias grinned, laughing as he swept you up into a hug, your feet leaving the floor momentarily with his enthusiasm. 
“Oh, I missed you both, so much! I can’t believe it’s been a year, already.” For more than one reason, the time had flown, not just missing your friends or your time with Azriel, but so many things had taken place. “We cannot let so long go by again.”
Vivianne clutched your hands as her husband released you, her forehead coming to your own as she giggled. “We will make it our new resolutions to make it so. Besides, it should be an exciting year, we don’t want to miss a thing.”
You cocked a brow at her statement, but she didn’t expand, not as Mor was rushing over in excitement too, greeting both of them herself, and then Kallias was excusing himself as Rhysand and Helion beckoned him over. Vivianne linked her arm with your own, Mor on the other side, and turned to face you with a smirk as the blonde guided your trio through the room. 
Gathering in the kitchen, a private break away from all the noise, Mor set about preparing drinks, handing them out to you all. Vivianne smiled, cheers-ing with you both, and Mor took a heavy chug from her own as you sipped at yours. 
“Jeez, Mor! What did you put in this?” The burn of alcohol down your throat had the ice queen chuckling, putting her drink down and nudging it away from herself. 
“It’s New Year’s Eve, don’t be a buzzkill!” She chuckled, taking another gulp from her glass as though it were water. 
“I heard Mor is pouring, does that mean we’re getting fucked up?” Nesta slipped into the room, and the blonde cheered excitedly as someone matched her energy, Feyre and Elain following, arm in arm, as the youngest sister rolled her eyes. 
“Looks like Cassian will be carrying someone back home later, before the clock even strikes midnight.” Feyre tutted, but accepted a drink nonetheless as Mor poured them and began to distribute them. 
“What’s the point of having a great, big, hulking boyfriend if not to carry me home when I have fun?”
“Now that I can cheers to,” You grin, tapping your glass on her own, and she smirked. Elain laughed lightly, lifting herself onto the counter, and swinging her legs as she clutched her cup between both hands, wincing as she took that first sip. “Don’t worry, it burns your tastebuds right off after that first taste, now you won’t taste anything else for weeks.”
She giggled at Mor’s scoff, taking a sip, and the six of you gathered around into a tighter group as hushed discussion took over. 
Nesta made sure to fill everyone in on herself and Cassian. The two had no plans to truly settle down anytime soon, far too busy battling and playing with swords to even consider a child. They were going to travel some more this year, Nesta wanted to visit every Court, and while Cassian unfortunately couldn't visit them all, whether it was allergies or laws that kept him barred, he was happy to oblige for most Courts. The Winter Court became the first on her list, when Viv promised her a stay like no other, any time they wanted. 
The High Lord and Lady were battling that stage of ‘terrible twos’ with Nyx. He was bouncing like a ping-pong ball between loving mama or loving dada more, but never both. One was always the enemy. He was also jumping between desperate for a sibling, pleading and begging and fighting as he checked every Solstice box for a baby brother, and deciding if he ever saw another child in his life he’d throw a fit. Feyre had a perpetual headache, and Rhys was at the end of his tether, but both had never been happier,
Elain and Lucien were skipping between here and the human lands, repairing bonds as their bond grew ever stronger, giving Elain the perfect mixed life she’d always dreamt of. Mor and Emerie were moving into their own home, and bickering every single day on how to decorate. 
Then, there was you and Azriel.
Vivianne had chosen to avoid Mor’s attempt on everyone’s lives and had found herself something else to drink. Sipping through the straw coyly, she eyed you, and you waited. “So, you and your Az looked sweet, walking in with baby Nyx. Sweeter with your own baby on his hip, I’m sure.”
You sighed at her, raising your brows, even with the smile growing on your lips. “Not anytime soon.”
“And why not?” She pressed, her hands on her hips like your declaration had ruined her life. 
“Because… we’re taking things slow.” Stirring your drink, you stared happily into the swirling alcohol, smiling to yourself as you thought of your lover. “Took us long enough to get together, we figured we have time to savour every step.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled in that sisterly way you loved so much. “Well, alright. I can allow that. Not too slowly, I hope.”
“You’re impatient!”
“I’m excited!” She clarified, and you grinned into the rim of your glass, taking a sip. 
“And, where exactly are your little icicles, hm? You and Kallias have been together longer than Az and I.”
Instead of sniping back, and utterly lovestruck, wondrous expression passed over her features. She smoothed a hand over her stomach, and your own flew to your mouth as you gasped. “Well…” She whispered, shrugging bashfully at the shriek you made. 
“You’re serious?” Discarding your drink to the nearest surface, you rushed to her, and she lifted her bulky winter sweater. You hadn't suspected a thing before, but now, as she revealed her stomach, you could see the slight bump forming. She took your wrist, lifting your hand, and your eyes watered as you looked between her face and your hand on her warm skin. “I can’t believe it!”
Everyone crowded in, then. A thousand questions were being fired at the elated new mother-to-be, who was happy to answer every single one, showing off the bump she was beginning to grow. 
Nyx would get that new playmate after all, taking a little of the weight off of Feyre and Rhys, with an heir to the Winter Court at last. Stepping back to let everyone else have their moment too, you leaned back on the counter, smiling at the love and excitement surrounding you at every turn. 
A tugging on the bond pulled your attention away, and a haze fell over everything as the feeling in your chest sharpened to full focus. Smiling to yourself, you rubbed absently at the spot where you could feel your love. Tugging back, the thread between you both vibrated contentedly, and you could feel his happy hum on your skin, the trace of phantom arms around your waist.
“Needy thing, your mate, isn’t he?” Feyre’s voice sliced through the bubble, and she was leaning on the counter beside you. “Do you think it’s an Illyrian thing?”
“Hmm.” You smirked, “Potentially. I can barely get a moment away before he’s pulling along the rope to find me.” You made sure the notion reached him, a warning burst reaching your chest, teasing and light, like a nip to the shell of your ear, and you shuddered. 
“Let’s go find our needy Illyrians, hm?” Her arm laced through your own, following the steps Nesta had not long taken. 
Hidden in the back of the room, Rhysand was spread across a couch, his son sleepily yawning in his lap as he tried to stay awake, while Azriel and Cassian both sat in the low-backed armchairs before the roaring fire. He never had to glance up to feel you coming, raising a hand to his shoulder at the same time you reached out to him, leaning over the chair from behind and kissing the top of his head. 
He pulled you around the chair and across his lap, nuzzling at your cheek as needy kisses trailed from your cheek to your mouth, and you grinned, turning to face him and rewarding him with a single kiss. He didn’t seem too satisfied with that, a glint in his eyes promising more was to come, but he let you adjust comfortably across him. 
“What did you ladies talk about?”
“I can’t tell you that, Az, or it wouldn't be girl talk, would it?” Your words had his eyes narrowing, calculated gaze fixed on you, “What did you boys talk about?”
“Can’t tell you that, baby, or it wouldn't be guy talk.” He retorted, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your jaw in his hand as a response, twisting your smushed face back to him and kissing you. He was smirking as he pulled back, leaning in close enough to share breath. “Kal and Viv, right?”
You caved to his charms, smiling as you shared the same space, wrapped up in him, “Mhm.”
He only smiled, nothing more needing to be said between the pair of you. 
“Viv asks when it’ll be us. Says we looked good walking in, hand in hand, Nyx on your hip.” Azriel’s eyes snapped open, straightening up as he put several inches between you both. Your hand smoothed up his chest, settling on his neck, trying to suppress your laughter. His pulse raced under your palm, your hand sliding behind his head and into his hair. “Relax, Azzy. I told her how we’re taking things slow, at our own pace.”
“But— But… I mean— It’s not like I’m opposed to it, but—” He sputtered over his words, and you kissed him silent, his shaky kisses returned with vigour, the trembling bond between you both settling steadily again. 
“We have things to do first, I’m in no rush to move through our milestones. I want you all to myself, for a little while longer.” You pulled him back in, kissing across his cheek, lips travelling to his ear, “And when I say that, I mean it.”
Despite it being whispered, Rhysand still hurled a mental stone at your walls, snickering to himself at your gasp as he eavesdropped on your private dig at him. Turning around, you glared, flipping him off mentally. He smirked, sipping his drink and patting his son between the wings as the small boy slumped asleep over his thighs. 
Turning away, you sealed yourself back into the haze with Azriel, his mouth travelling along your jaw, your head tipped back.
“Must we really wait until midnight before I can kiss you properly, Azzy?”
“I suppose, we could be early for once in our lives. Kiss me now, we’ll pretend it’s midnight.” He whispered, a lazy smile on his face when you looked at him. He was so beautiful, the man who owned your heart was like a work of art, watching you with such sweet love that it made you want to melt. 
“I love you, Azriel.” You whispered onto his lips, lessening the gap between you both, and a content sound rumbled free from his chest. 
“I love you, my dear. To another year, another decade, century, with you.”
“To forever, together.” You finalised, and he nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as a flood of his emotions overwhelmed you from your words. 
“Forever sounds like a wonderful place to start.”
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roosterforme · 8 months
Text
Batting Practice Part 33 The Epilogue | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Some things never seem to change for Bradley. But maybe he worked at keeping them the same. Baseball, Everett and you.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Seventeen and a half years later...
"Happy birthday, Coach," you whispered, slowly coaxing Bradley awake. He could feel your warm breath on his cheek and the weight of your hand resting on his chest. 
"Mmm, Kitten," he rasped, placing his bigger hand on top of yours as he cracked his eyes open. And there you were, fresh from sleep yourself, and so beautiful with the early morning sunlight catching on the angles of your face. "It's Sunday. Why won't you let me sleep in?"
"Because it's your birthday. And we get to see Ev."
Bradley stretched and rolled over so you were pinned deliciously underneath him. "We won't get to see Ev until later this afternoon. He's going to have a very busy day."
"I'm not so sure about that," you said with a smirk as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Bradley knew he was going gray, but you claimed you liked it, including the few stray strands that found their way into his mustache. 
"You sound like you've got something up your sleeve. Wait, Molly's not coming over to break the stove again, is she?"
You started laughing as you wrapped your legs around his. "Not that I know of. But anything's possible with her."
"Poor Bob," he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "And the kids, too. She's an absolute menace." 
Bradley pulled up your shirt and kissed his way along your breasts. If he was lucky, he'd get round one of birthday sex now and round two tonight after the game.
"Wait," he whined as you tugged your shirt back down. "What are you doing? It's my birthday."
"Yes," you agreed, kissing him once and then slipping right out of bed. "And I've been told I need to keep you on a very strict schedule. So come on. Get up."
"A strict schedule?" he mumbled. "Baby, I'm retired. My schedule revolves around making you breakfast, packing your lunch, coaching tee ball, and watching every single Phillies game."
"Well, I'll be making your breakfast today. And you can eat nachos or a hot dog for lunch even though you should be watching your sodium intake. And we will definitely catch the Phillies game," you said, reaching out to take his hand. 
With one more groan, he let you lead him downstairs where you told him to sit at the kitchen counter. He passed his display case on the way and paused to look at his first Coach of the Year trophy and the baseball covered in little faded hearts that he used to propose to you. He smiled at the collection of other baseballs, including the one from the first time his son pitched a no hitter. 
"Seriously, Bradley. We have a schedule to keep."
A few minutes later he had his World's Greatest Dad mug full of coffee in front of him. You kept checking the time as you pulled eggs and vegetables out of the refrigerator. Once 8:00 hit, you grabbed his phone from where it sat on the counter and entered his passcode as he sipped his coffee.
"Read this," you said, voice full of excitement. 
"What is it?" he asked as you thrust the phone into his hands. It looked like he was going to have absolutely no say over what went on today, so he was just going to go with the flow.
"An article. In the Philadelphia Inquirer. It just got released two minutes ago."
"Okay," he muttered, setting down his coffee and as he started to read.
WILL SEASON FOUR BE AS LUCKY AS ONE, TWO, AND THREE?
by Harrison Boyd
June 27, 2039
From his draft day nearly four years ago to now, Everett Bradshaw has been turning heads. We had collectively wondered as baseball fans from the City of Brotherly Love if we would ever have a truly elite pitcher again after Ronson's career ending injury. But as soon as the franchise acquired Bradshaw, we were allowed to stop wondering. We have reached elite status once again. And Bradshaw shows no signs of stopping. 
When I asked the freshly twenty five year old ace about the secret to his success, the first thing out of his mouth was, "My dad."
Bradley rubbed his eyes with his fingers and took a deep breath against the swell of emotions rising in his chest. "Kitten, what is this?"
You just shrugged as you cut up a green pepper for an omelette. "A feature article on Ev. Keep reading."
Bradley took a deep breath and picked up where he left off.
So I asked him, "Was your dad the one at your games who was cheering the loudest? The one who kept you motivated since you were a kid?"
"Not exactly," Bradshaw replied with a smile. "He was my very first coach. He actually still coaches tee ball in San Diego. He wins Coach of the Year so frequently, I think we've all lost count of how many of those little trophies he has at home. But anyway, I met my dad on the very first day I ever played ball. The very first time I swung a bat with instruction was from him. And he's the one who taught me how to pitch. His slider is still really hard to hit."
"You met your dad through tee ball? Through baseball? That's fascinating."
"Yes. I begged my mom to let me play. I was already obsessed with the Phillies by the time I was six. My mom took me to see them clobber the Padres at Petco Park, and I just thought they were the coolest team. So when she let me play tee ball, and I met my coach and learned he also loved the Phillies, I just wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Turns out, they also wanted to spend time with each other. They got married a few months later. And then my dad adopted me."
While his birth name wasn't Bradshaw, Everett said he never had a close relationship with his biological father. "Really, he's not even worth mentioning. The only one I've ever considered to be my dad is Bradley. I can barely remember a time before he was taking me to the park to hit balls and teaching me how to keep stats. We did my homework together and collected baseball cards. He helped me apply to colleges. The video of him losing his mind when the Phillies drafted me went viral. My mom and my aunt and uncle are awesome, too. But my dad has always understood me in a way probably nobody else ever will."
During his four years at Vanderbilt, Everett earned a reputation as a fun loving, team oriented pitcher. But his stats were enough to catch the eye of every major league team. He pitched a no hitter against Stanford when he was nineteen, and he hit his first grand slam when he was twenty. And he's only cleaned up his form since then. For anyone not keeping track at home, Bradshaw already owns an incredible record in the MLB: he is the only player to pitch a no hitter as well as hit at least one grand slam for every year they played in the pros. His batting averages are practically unheard of for a pitcher. 
It's no wonder he was heavily scouted. And he assures us that his dad was there with him every step of the way. "I didn't know anything about contracts. I just wanted to pitch. But I spent a lot of time talking things through with my dad before I made any decisions. And now everyone is making a huge fuss about my new 440 million dollar ten year extension with the Phils, but to be honest, I still just want to pitch as many games as I can."
The 'huge fuss' is being made, because Bradshaw is now the highest paid pitcher in league history. The Phillies went all in on him, however Bradshaw did adjust his deal to assure that the team would be able to keep top catcher Sanchez as well. "If Miguel Sanchez isn't catching for me and the other guys in the rotation, then that's a big problem. The team needed to retain him as well. And to be honest, Harrison, nobody needs 440 million dollars."
Bradley set his phone down, rubbed his eyes, and said, "I still can't believe our son is the highest paid pitcher ever."
"I can," you replied, adding cheese to the omelette. "He's incredible. Keep reading."
When I asked him what he plans to do with 44 million dollars per year, he kind of shied away from the answer at first. "Well my girlfriend runs a nonprofit organization back in San Diego. She helps fund underprivileged children and schools. So a lot of my income goes back to kids in the city where I grew up and beyond. But I've also been working on a bit of a project myself."
When I asked him for more details, he folded his hands on the table in front of him and took a few beats to answer. "We talked a lot about my dad and what he means to me personally, and how he has impacted my career. But I also think it's important to remember that I'm just one guy. I'm just one kid who went through tee ball and little league. There are thousands of kids across the country who benefit from those types of athletic programs every year. And some of them, just like me, really need the positive influence that the coaches bring. So my dad doesn't even know about this yet, but I'm starting the Bradley Bradshaw Foundation, which will help fund a handful of youth tee ball programs every year. This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. The coaches bring the love and dedication; they shouldn't have to worry about equipment costs and field rental fees."
Bradley dropped his phone onto the counter and tried to wipe his eyes as he sobbed. "I can't even finish reading it."
You slid his birthday breakfast onto a plate and set it in front of him. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him cry against your shoulder. 
"Why is he doing this?" Bradley asked you. "He knows how fucking emotional I get, Kitten."
You kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Yes, you're always very soft for us. But you're also soft and sweet for all the kids you've coached. Keep reading."
So he pushed his breakfast aside and picked up his phone once again. And once he blinked away most of his tears he read the last part.
When pressed about how he thinks his stats will pan out by the end of his fourth season, Everett 'Grand Slam' Bradshaw laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying for consistency. I'm trying to be a good teammate. I'm trying to make the best of every game I get to start. I'm trying to spend as much time with my family as I can. But if you really have a specific question about my stats, you should call my dad. He probably knows better than I do."
Bradley stood up from the kitchen counter and walked away from you. "I need a minute," he said, raking his hands through his hair. The love Bradley felt for his son was just simply part of him. He never took the time to try to pinpoint it exactly, because it was just built into him at this point. But he supposed it really was quite simple to reach back in his mind and pull out the moments when he started to fall in love with you and Everett. And it really was just because of the Tiny Eagles tee ball team. 
If he hadn't agreed to help Bob coach that first season, his life would be fundamentally incorrect right now. He didn't even like thinking about it. But it was because of his love for Everett, and you, and baseball that he stuck with coaching. He'd spent time with countless six and seven year olds over the last eighteen years. He'd missed some practices and games for deployments here and there, sure. But giving a little bit of his time and attention to a roster of kids each spring ended up changing his life. Because while his family owned his heart, Bradley found he had quite a lot of patience and love to share with more kids. 
"Bradley?" you asked softly, standing next to his untouched breakfast. "We can go see Ev when you're ready."
"I'm ready."
Bradley took a quick shower and put on his favorite jeans and his Phillies jersey with Bradshaw and the number 1 on the back. You were dressed similarly in your own Everett Bradshaw jersey; it had taken until your son was playing for the team for you to have what Bradley considered an adequate amount of Phillies clothing in your drawers. Once Bradley added his backwards hat, he was ready to go.
You took his hand and led him out to the new Bronco, and Bradley handed you the keys. He still felt like he was on the verge of tears again. "I need you to drive."
"Okay, Coach."
When you turned onto the Private Parking Only ramp at Petco Park, Bradley chuckled. "I still can't believe Ev is playing the Padres in San Diego on my birthday."
"You screamed like a small child when the schedule came out," you reminded him as you parked near the players entrance where the three of you had entered on your ballpark tour eighteen years ago. 
"Yeah, I know, but we hardly ever get to see Ev during the season unless we fly to Philly." He was already climbing out before you turned the engine off, and then he took your hand as you laughed. "Shit, Kitten... it's 10:00. The game doesn't start until 1:00. Are the gates even open?"
"We can get in," you assured him, and you pulled a lanyard out of your pocket with VIP printed all over it. 
"How did we get that?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you as you approached the gate together. "Ev usually just sends us box tickets."
But before you had a chance to answer, the security guard looked at the VIP pass and asked, "Which player are you here to see?"
"Everett Bradshaw?" you replied. "He plays for the Phillies."
The guard's face lit up and he said, "He just autographed a ball for my kids about ten minutes ago! Nicest guy."
"He's our son," Bradley said with pride in his voice, and you squeezed his hand a little tighter. 
"Come on in," the guard said with a bright smile, unlocking the gate and sliding it open. "You can wait in the VIP lounge right up this ramp to the right. Scan the pass to unlock the door. I'll call down to the locker rooms and let him know you're here."
"Thanks," Bradley replied, and you led the way up the ramp. "Baby, I'm still a little confused about why we're here so early."
"You'll see in a minute," you replied, scanning the badge. Bradley pulled the door open when it unlocked, and he followed you into the lounge full of plush seats, TV screens, and refreshments. And at the far end, perched on the edge of one of the long tables, was Everett. He was smiling as he tucked his phone in his jeans pocket, and Bradley thought he looked impossibly taller and stronger than he had two months ago when they visited him in Philadelphia.
Bradley's eyes filled with tears as he started closing the distance to his son. "Happy birthday, Dad," Everett said with a laugh in his deep voice, but Bradley was already wrapping him up in a tight hug. He just wanted to hold all six foot two inches and two hundred and twenty pounds of his son, and Everett let him. 
Bradley had to fight the onslaught of tears as the familiar feel of Ev hugging him back filled his senses, and the words from the article he read earlier flooded his mind. When he finally released him, he patted him on the shoulder. "You look good, Kiddo. Did you eat enough for breakfast? Are you still starting today?"
Ev smiled at him and nodded, "Yeah, I'm feeling good, Dad. I could probably use some of your pancakes though."
"Well why didn't you say something? I could have brought some with us. Kitten, why didn't you say something?" he asked you as you walked over to join them.
As Everett gave you an enormous hug as well, he said, "I'm thinking about sleeping over at the house with you guys tonight, since I'm not starting tomorrow. You can make me about a dozen pancakes tomorrow morning. Hi, mom."
You kissed his cheek and adjusted his backward Phillies cap. "I like your hair this way. You look so handsome, Ev.
"Of course he does," Bradley agreed. "He looks like you." And then he was rewarded with the twin smiles that you and Everett bestowed on him at the same time. "Listen, if you're coming back to the house later, I need to stop and get groceries. You ate everything in the refrigerator and drank all my beer last time."
Everett just smiled at him. "Damn, I really do miss your pancakes."
"Ev, that's an adult word," you scolded.
"Mom. I am an adult," he scolded back playfully. But he was grinning when he turned toward Bradley. "Did mom make you read the article this morning? From the Inquirer?" 
"Yeah," he whispered, nodding his head. "You didn't need to do that for me, Kiddo. But thank you."
His throat was tight with unshed tears as Everett gave him another hug. "I didn't do it just for you. I did it for the other coaches and kids, too. You were just my main inspiration. You always are, dad."
"Please, Ev," he said, sucking in a deep breath as he rubbed his son's back before releasing him. "I might never stop crying."
And he was once again met with Everett's smile and yours. "You're a softie, Coach," you told him, cupping his chin in your hand and kissing him.
"Always for the two of you." Bradley kissed your fingers and then laced them with his as he looked around the room. "How much longer can you hang out with us, Ev? You need to warm up soon?"
"Pretty soon," he replied. "I'll walk you up to the box to meet Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob and the cousins, but we need to stop and take care of something first."
"Take care of what?" Bradley asked, but Ev was already heading for the door past the tables and unlocking it with his own badge. Hand in hand, the two of you followed your son down a long hallway that ended near the locker rooms at a door that said PRESS AND PLAYERS ONLY. "Are we even allowed back here?"
"Well," Everett said, stopping in front of the door, "if you remember the tour we took when I was six years old, this is where we met some of the players."
"Of course I remember," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That was one of the best days of my life. I told your mom I loved her that day."
"He did," you confirmed for Everett.
"You two have always been sickening," Everett replied with a smile. "But yes, we're allowed in here. Actually dad, you're the man of the hour."
"Man of the hour?" he asked. "Kiddo, you're the star pitcher. It's just my fifty-fifth birthday." 
But as soon as Everett pushed the door open and Bradley stepped inside, about twenty reporters and photographers started buzzing with excitement. 
"Ev, I'm still confused," Bradley said as his son rested a hand on his shoulder. He watched you smile and head to an empty seat at the back of the room. "What's going on?"
Ev rubbed his shoulder before giving him another hug and releasing him. "Every interviewer asks me how I became successful. And my answer is always the same. It's because of you, Dad."
"Ev," Bradley choked out, his throat tight with tears once again.
"So you're in high demand, Coach. I told a few media outlets we would give an interview together. Nothing too crazy. As long as you want to."
Bradley glanced around the room, and as soon as he found you with a bright smile on your face, he said, "Okay."
So he sat down where the players sit, and Everett took the seat next to him. They had on matching jerseys and backward caps, and it didn't matter that he adopted Everett, this had always been his son. They were cut from the same cloth. They understood each other. They were a family. 
Everett cleared his throat and announced, "Hey, everyone. This is my dad and my very first coach, retired naval Captain Bradley Bradshaw. He taught me literally everything I know about baseball. Everything I know about anything, really. He showed me how to pitch sliders and curveballs at Myers Park here in San Diego. He made sure I could lose a game with the same attitude as when I won a game. He and I met the first day I ever played tee ball and the very first day he ever coached. And he's been coaching the Tiny Eagles ever since. So I guess if you want to know more about me, then he's the man to talk to."
Bradley was still wiping tears from his eyes when the first interviewer raised her hand, smiled at him, and asked, "Can you tell us how proud you are of Everett?"
He turned to look at his son and smiled. "How much time do I have?"
------------------------------
Well, that's it! The tale of Coach Bradley! I can't thank you enough to everyone who has been lovely to me as I worked on and posted this fic. I can't get enough of these three. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32 (and thanks for the banner, Mak!)
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
Still want more? Read Draft Day!
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performativezippers · 6 months
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fanfic writer habits i've had to unlearn when trying to traditionally publish original work
a list in no particular order in case you're curious
starting sentences with "And"
so. many. one sentence. paragraphs. like, yeah, this is fun for The Drama but also...not how books work
using italics for emphasis--gotta use your WORDS, zippy
head hopping. rereading old fanfics i wrote, i'm like, WHOSE POV IS THIS?? HOW WOULD JANE KNOW MAURA THINKS THIS?? jesus christ keep your pov tight, zipperoni. i had to really learn this when i was revising my first book and my agent pointed it out.
Oh. Oh. some of these are good but too many are oh [failure]
Using scene breaks to skip through transitions instead of actually transitioning. this one i'm working on right now and it's haaaaaaard.
scene choreography. if someone is holding something, do they ever put it down? are they STILL HOLDING IT NOW, FIVE YEARS LATER?
overwriting vs using a lighter touch. "that's normal. that's casual. that's fine." sometimes that's great for emphasis, but if it was always just "that's casual. that's fine." the point comes across the same way, and doesn't hit you over the head with it as much.
introducing new characters and making them memorable, vivid, and not sucking up too much space when the reader doesn't recognize them (it's lena! i love her!)
pacing! things have to happen at specific times, the book needs to end at a specific time, the conflict needs to be sown here and explode there. making that all feel organic and honest for the characters while also conforming to the genre expectations that have very little flexibility (especially for a new author trying to convince publishers I know how to write books)
ending things at the right time. at first i wrote too far beyond the climax (classic fanfic problem) and then now i seem to have swung too far in the other direction and am ending too soon after it. but the good news is that my editor asked for an epilogue. you know what that means?? A WHOLE SHORT CHAPTER OF FLUFF Y'ALL!!!
Does this need to be a curse word or can it be a different word? i mean often it fucking needs to but not always!
Just cut out the word just almost all of the time even if it feels like it's just the right word; it will hurt just a little but you should just do it.
use as much sex as the plot needs. incorporate it into the plot. don't change the tone of the piece. make it stay in character and also be hot and also serve the narrative.
got questions? want examples? have thoughts? what other things have you caught yourself doing, or notice when you read through your old stuff?
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Ding dong, here’s the final chapter! I have an epilogue in mind so that may come later, but for now, Thanks  so so much for the response to this series and Enjoy!
Ch1 Ch2 Ch3
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[talking] [talking passes]
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Gai: You knew right away, didn’t you? Kka: Correct. I knew something was wrong when you weren’t trying to do situps or anything..... You little criminal, who smuggled that in for you? Gai: Naruto
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Kks: How did you get him to do that? /I/ cant even get Naruto to do things. The tear tracks and shit eating grin are cute. Kinda wanna kiss you. Gai: Don’t let me be a hindrance to-
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Gai: What are you giggling about? Kks: I just remembered
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Kks: I get to hold over your head that I held mirai before you. Gai: You what?! Your first baby hold and I missed it? Get off of me Kks: So mean! Near death made you crabby. Gai: I won’t give into this Kks: You will, you always succumb. [gai sighs annoyed]
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Gai: [Groans] When are they making you swear in as hokage? Kks: That’s not happening anymore thankfully. Gai: Huuuh?? Tenzou didn’t tell me that!
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Gai: He said Lady Tsunade was retiring and you were the only choice. Naruto even tried to- Kks: Where do you think i’ve been all day? I convinced her to hold out until Naruto or whoever  took over next. Gai: How did you smooth talk that one? Kks: I agreed to do her paperwork and cover for when she needs R&R. I also advised her to ditch the elders so she can actually run this shit show right. Gai: And they... took that well? The elders? Kks: No, not at all. Let’s just say I said some... things that made them backtrack on their decision.
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Gai: YOu cant just say that and not tell me now!! I gotta know! Kks: Well... Homura: Absolutely not! Kks: If I am appointed, I’ll be replacing you regardless. Naruto certainly will. It’s inevitable. Koharu: Those kids don’t know how this village runs!
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Kks:Those kids just won your war and this is how you speak of them. Or are “those kids“ only respectable to you when they’re eager to die at your beckon call and shut up. Elders: How dare- Watch your tongue! Kks: I won’t be someone who you can walk all over. Things will change. Just so my intentions are clear
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Gai: What next?! Kks: That’s is really. Kinda tuned the rest out and passed out for 3 hours. Gai: Rival, I was so invested Kks: Sorry Gai: So you agreed to essentially split the work of a hokage but not publicly take the title? Kks: Mhm Gai: So cool! Apologies, I had just assumes since you were gonna accept last time Kks:[hums] Things changed. Konoha’s not on the brink of war, Tsunade’s still here. The village can breathe and rebuild now.
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Kks: After a glimpse of the hassle and public attention the last time, I’m just... Not interested in any of that. I’ve never dreamed or desired to be the hokage. That was always something others wanted /for/ me. So I said no. I know you were happy for me so- Gai: Kakashi
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Gai: I’m so very proud of you for expressing how you truly feel. You and tsunade will do amazing work supporting the next generation. Even If you chose to retire today, I’d still be just as proud of you. Also a selfish part of me if happy to have more time with you. [kks huffs]
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Kks: I’m proud of you too, y’ know. All your hard work, you’re fucking incredible. Glad my dad made me talk to the cool kid in the green jumpsuit. 2nd coolest shinobi. Gai: Only took 25 years, but I’ve finally caught your eye! Kks: Yup, let’s move in together.
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Gai: WHAT?1 Whu-! Kks: I’m fixing up dad’s old house with Tenzou. you should live there with me Gai: Why? Kks: Why are yo suspicious? I’m serious. Space, accessibility for you... I want you around more. Gai: Ok Kks: Ok? Gai: An exciting change is just what my youthful journey needs!! Kks: So yes?
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Gai: I would love to share a home with you, Rival [kks giggling] What now?
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Kks: Did I just make you succumb, Gai-kun? Gai: When can we have a match next, I need to consensually slap you in the head [kks laughs] Why did you say it like that? Kks: I’m sorry! Your pout looks so cute.... You are still moving in with me, right? That wasnt a joke.
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Gai: I’m gonna let you sweat on that one awhile... [whimpers]
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Kks: Love you so much, Gai
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[gai snoring]
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[gai snoring]
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gogogodzilla · 1 year
Note
Um I was wondering if you could write smut about connor and about if he can vibrate if yk what i mean cause i feel like im not the only person that thinks that androids can vibrate. please and thank you
Tease || Connor (RK800)
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Summary: Connor can't wait until you get home.
Note Pt. 2: This is a spiritual epilogue of my completed Connor fanfic, Criminal Analysis!
Warnings: smut (obviously lol), afab reader, oral (reader receiving), fingering (connor has vibrating fingers), semi-public sex
{Masterlist}
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You knew what you were doing— you were wearing those pants Connor liked. Really liked. 
Of course, you had another reason to be wearing them other than riling him up. You knew that you’d be called into court eventually, that’s part of being a forensic psychologist, after all. 
It all started that morning. You got to sleep in a little due to court and you relished the few extra moments of unconsciousness. 
However, those moments lost their sweetness when you felt the cold, empty space beside you in bed. You blindly swatted the other side of the bed, hoping that if you reached just a little bit further you’d find your lover. He’d bring your groggy form into his embrace, and lull you back into a dreamless sleep. 
Your grasps came up empty and you rolled onto your back with a huff. The bedroom door opened with a click, and soft footsteps echoed throughout the room. You peeked open an eye and struggled to fight the grin that appeared at the sight of your love.
Connor’s hair was neat as always, but he had exchanged his Cyberlife jacket with a normal suit jacket. It was a refreshing change. 
Connor neared your side of the bed, and your grin grew. He bent down and pressed a soft, slow kiss to your temple and ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing out some of the tangles.  
He slowly peppered kisses down your face, moving from your forehead, down to the space between your eyebrows, to the tip of your nose, and, finally, your lips.
You didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, the ache for him already growing. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged him towards you. 
Connor knew better than to fall into your trap, especially when he was running late. He placed a hand beside your head to stop himself from coming any closer. That didn’t stop you from trying, though.
“I have to go,” he whispered as he gently pulled away. 
You sighed dreamily as you sat up, “You should’ve woken me up sooner.” 
“If we started,” Connor purred as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “we wouldn’t be able to stop.” 
You hummed in response as you slowly trailed your fingers up his thigh. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, but you just grinned. 
You settled for resting your hands on his belt buckle, “You can afford to be a few minutes late.” 
Your argument was flawed, you knew that. Connor would rather cut off his own foot than be late. But, you also knew that you could be very persuasive. 
Connor pried your hand from his belt buckle and gave you a placating smile, “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 
You let out a huff as you threw yourself back on the bed with a groan. You’re lucky you didn’t crack your head on the headboard, but you didn’t really care at the moment. 
Connor bent over and gave you a final kiss, whispering an ‘I love you’ against your lips. It was almost like you were Snow White, and he was your prince charming. Although, the only thing he’d awoken was a deep need throbbing between your legs. And then he was out the door. 
You set your plan into motion almost immediately. You felt a bit giddy at the thought of Connor getting all hot and bothered just by the sight of you. Especially, if he wouldn’t get to touch you until later that night. 
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Your heart raced as you pushed open the glass door to the precinct. Your shoes clicked across the tile floor as you made your way through the turnstile and to your desk. 
You ignored Connor’s eyes searing a hole in your back as you bent down slightly and slowly put the files you came for in your bag. 
A low whistle sounded behind you, “Damn, sweetheart, what’re you all dressed up for?” Gavin called as he made his way to his desk, steaming mug clutched in his hand. 
You rolled your eyes and fought off a grin. Gavin’s shameless flirting was playing right into your plan. 
“If you must know,” you straightened and placed your hands on your hips, “some of us actually have to do our jobs.”
Gavin sat down and leaned back in his chair, “Very funny.” 
You went back to your task, pretending to look in one of the drawers for something, making sure to give Connor a very good view. 
“I think your plastic boy toy is malfunctioning,” Gavin snickered, and you stopped your fake search and looked up at Gavin. “He just practically ran to the bathroom.” 
“I’ll go check on him,” you muttered as you closed the drawer to your desk. 
Gavin put his feet up on his desk and sent you one of his blinks that’s meant to be a wink, “Yeah, you go ahead and check on him.”
You flushed as you turned away, your hurried steps echoing as you made your way to the bathroom. Gavin wasn’t stupid. Hell, you’d done the same thing when he’d pissed you off when you were dating. 
Old habits died hard.
The door to the men’s bathroom silently shut behind you, and luckily only one stall was occupied. You locked the bathroom door with a click and sauntered over to the stall which contained the object of your desires. Well, more like the person of your desires.
“Connor,” you called out as you came to a stop in front of the stall door. A slight grin graced your features as you waited for him to answer. 
The door opened in a flash, and you were pulled inside. Quicker than you could process, Connor had you pressed up against the door and had both of your hands caged in his and held above your head. 
“You just couldn’t wait,” Connor taunted as he tilted his head to the side, letting his breath fan across your cheek. He slid his knee between your legs, allowing himself to get even closer. 
You raised your head to look at him. “I dunno, seems like you’re the one who couldn’t wait.” He let out a sigh as he released your hands and raked them down your body. You had to be quick, Connor knew that. Although, that didn’t stop him from teasing you. 
He gripped your thighs as he looked down at you and pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips. It was mostly tongue, but you were quick to wrap your arms around him and pull him impossibly closer to you. 
Connor made quick work of undoing the buttons on your dress shirt as he pressed open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat and gripped your hips tightly. He was searching for that spot that made you make those noises he liked. You ground your core against his thigh, attempting to get some sort of relief.
Once he successfully got your shirt all the way unbuttoned, he was quick to attack the newly exposed skin, licking and sucking to his heart’s desire. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged at the pieces at the nape of his neck eliciting a groan from him. 
Connor gripped your waist as he moved his sloppy kisses down your abdomen and slowly got to his knees. You gazed down at him through your heavy lids. He moved to unbutton your pants, eager to finally touch you. His movements were practiced and precise as he pulled your pants down to your ankles. He let out a shaky breath when he realized you weren’t wearing any underwear. 
You’d almost forgotten about that part of your plan.
He slotted himself neatly between your legs. He always fit so well there. 
“So needy for me,” he breathed against your core as he caressed your inner thighs. You clenched them together but his grip held you in place. He pressed a kiss on the inside of your knee before slowly moving upward, avoiding where you needed him most. 
You let out a groan, and Connor looked up at you. 
“Use your words, Doctor,” he gently reminded before latching his lips onto your core. Your breath is promptly knocked out of you, and any retort you had died in your throat. 
His grip tightened on your thighs as he desperately pulled you closer to him. His tongue expertly circled your clit as he found a rhythm that had your eyes rolling back. You gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a moan that sent heavenly vibrations up your body. 
You groaned at the sight of him— your slick had begun to coat his face and he showed no sign of slowing. 
Connor slowly and sinfully pressed one finger inside you, which was quickly joined by another. You thrusted your hips forward, desperate to have even more of him. He pumped his fingers achingly slow, but a stream of vibrations caused you to jolt. 
That was new.
A sly grin had curved into Connor’s face and he looked up at you, taking in the confusion mixed with arousal that graced your features. He pulled away from you for a moment, “I was saving that for later.” 
“Fuck, Connor,” you whimpered. 
“Be quiet,” Connor grunted into your core as he jutted his fingers deeper into you. You pressed a hand over your mouth to silence the breathy moans that were escaping you. 
You trusted yourself for only a moment to whimper out, “Need you.” 
Connor was more than happy to oblige you as he rose to his feet and pushed his fingers past your lips, making you taste yourself. You busied yourself with undoing his belt buckle, fingers clumsy as you revealed what you ached for. 
Connor let out a shaky breath as you stroked him, and he met your strokes halfway. He gripped your thighs and in one swift motion lifted you up. He was practically bending you in half, but you didn’t mind. 
He angled his cock up to your entrance, and agonizingly, slowly pushed inside you. The way he stretched you was delicious, and you let out a high-pitched mewl at the feeling. 
He covered your mouth with one of his hands as he rutted inside of you and bottomed out. After a few moments, you started moving your hips, begging him to move. Mercifully, he obliged you and snapped his hips against yours. You let out a breathy moan against his hand, and he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck. 
“You’re perfect,” he slurred into your shoulder, “couldn’t wait until tonight to have you.” He moved his hand from your mouth to resting on your neck, and he looked you in the eyes as he pounded into you. Connor brought his hand down to where you were joined and the vibrations continued once again. 
You grip onto his bicep, that familiar coil beginning to tighten, and you panted heavily. “I’m close,” you whined.
“Come for me.” 
He didn’t have to ask twice. You groaned and you felt your eyes roll back as you reached your high. You came hard as you involuntarily pushed your hips into Connor’s. 
He came with your name gracing his lips along with a few other words. You attempted to catch your breath as Connor stilled within you. 
“You’re going to be late,” he said matter-of-factly as he pressed a kiss to your temple. You huffed out a laugh, and Connor gently set you back down. You grabbed onto his shoulders while you waited for your legs to stop feeling like jelly. 
Connor helped clean you up and make you look presentable. His hands were a lot steadier than yours at the moment. 
You pressed a kiss to his cheek and grinned, “I should tease you more often."
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deakyjoe · 6 months
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Somebody’s Watching Me Epilogue
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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her pronouns, British, backstory)
Category: slowburn coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love
Summary: Five years later.
Warnings: domestic things, British/slang terminology
Word count: 700ish (a baby to finish the story)
A/N: Well, it’s been a long journey. And it has been months since I posted the last part. But here we are! At the end! Finally! Thank you for coming along for ride, I’m so grateful for every single one of my readers. I hope you’ve enjoyed Simon and Sarge’s story. And just because their main storyline is over doesn’t mean I won’t post other little things for them in the future.
Consider buying me a coffee :)
"Sarge, I'm telling you that it's fine. They just repackaged it. I'm sure it tastes the same."
You pushed the carton of juice away from where it was being waved in your face. "No! Look! It says that they added a whole extra apple to the recipe."
Simon sighed frustratedly and lowered the carton. "That's good, you love apples."
You groaned, hating it when he was right. "But it's going to taste different. And I hate change!" You almost hated it as much as when he was right and you were wrong, which you'd never admit.
"Do you want the apple juice or not?"
You ignored him and put the carton with your other items of shopping, walking away before Simon could comment.
He caught up to you quickly, his strides much longer than yours. “That was the last thing, let’s go and pay.”
You didn’t answer verbally, just nodded and knew he was smirking at your stubbornness. Simon had always hated the fact that he’d never been able to tame the brat out of you. But you thought your naturally stubborn nature was a good thing. It was the trait that got you to where you were now with your lieutenant.
You joined the back of the line behind an elderly couple and began placing your shopping on the conveyor belt, Simon rearranging it all as you did it to make it look neater.
He insisted his way was more efficient.
You let him believe that.
It didn’t escape your notice when the woman in front of you turned to look at you both as you bickered about the way a two litre bottle should face.
“This way is better, Sarge.” Simon huffed, turning it around.
“But it rolls around that way!” You replied, exasperated.
“Fine. You should be glad I’m so fond of you.”
You scoffed. “I bloody well hope so after all this time. Fond of me? Fond!”
He sent you one of his radiant smiles that you were one of the lucky few to receive. “Would you rather I declare my undying love for you with a dramatic reading of a Shakespeare sonnet in the middle of big Tesco?”
“Wouldn’t go unappreciated.” You sniffed, smiling back at him with all thoughts of the rolling bottle forgotten.
The older woman squinted at the both of you trying, but not succeeding, at subtly tapping at her husband’s shoulder in order to get his attention. He just ignored her.
But when the woman's eyes landed on Simon, the recognition dawned and her face molded into a satisfied one. And then when they strayed to the matching wedding rings on the both of you, she just about jumped in joy.
You stared right back at her, waiting for her to say something. You were sure she was the same woman who'd assumed you and Simon were a couple five years ago when you'd first bumped into each other in this very same supermarket.
Funny how things work out.
She gave you a warm smile which you tentatively returned before she turned back around to pay for her groceries.
Your husband leant down to mutter in your ear. “Is that-?”
“Yeah.”
“Thought so.”
You beamed up at Simon, suddenly very happy at the way things had happened. You always were but sometimes the wonderful nature of your situation really hit you.
“Why’re looking at me with that silly grin on your face?” He grumbled, although he couldn’t hide the softness in his eyes.
“Dunno. Maybe because I get to look at your gorgeous face every day.” You nudged him with your elbow.
He stepped closer to you, tilting his head down to better meet your eyes. “Mhm, for the rest of your life. Lucky you.”
“Very lucky me.” You quipped back. He was being sarcastic and self deprecating but really what he was saying was completely true. You did consider yourself very lucky. And you always would.
Simon could see you were being genuine, as you always were with him. So he decided to return the gesture. “Think I’m the luckier one.”
You just shrugged. He could believe that if he wanted to. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to convince him otherwise. And, boy, did you have a lot of time to do that. Practically forever.
A/N: I re-read a couple chapters of Somebody’s Watching Me and it inspired me to finally finish writing this epilogue. And I’m so glad that I’ve done it now. Thanks again.
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daisynik7 · 1 year
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Give You Blue Masterlist
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When your sky is grey, I will give you blue.
Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre: college au
cw: explicit sexual content, language, angst, hurt/comfort, comedy, fluff - specific content warnings will be provided for each chapter
Summary: You and Reiner, childhood friends and high-school sweethearts, break-up in your sophomore year of college. This is the story about how you pick up the pieces of your heartbreak, with the help of your friends and especially your new RA, Eren Jaeger. A story where there are no villains or heroes, just normal people navigating through life and love, one day at a time.  
Author's Notes: Another college au series, yay! I hope you all like this one! All characters are college aged (19-22 years old). Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!
Give You Blue Taglist | Give You Blue Playlist
Chapter Title and Summary (spoiler-free):
Chapter 1: How It Ends - Reiner breaks up with you the night before the new semester begins. With his car packed with both of your belongings, the hour long ride to campus the next day offers some clarity.
Chapter 2: First Impressions - You move into your new dorm with your best friend and roommate, Annie, where you update her on your current relationship status. That night, you meet Eren Jaeger, your new Resident Assistant.
Chapter 3: Umbrella - With your classes as a distraction, you manage to survive a month into your breakup. However, you hit a wall when you run into your ex for the first time since the start of the semester. And, as if it couldn't get any worse, you forget to bring an umbrella on a day with heavy rainfall. Luckily, someone comes to your rescue.
Chapter 4: Alone Together - You and Annie attend a dinner at the Mu Phi sorority house on campus. Reiner, on his way out of Delta Delta, ambushes you on the walk back to your dorm for a less than pleasant conversation. Later that week, RA Eren hosts a game-night for his fellow residents. But, with it being on a Friday right after midterms, he's disappointed when it flops. Fortunately, someone comes to his rescue.
Chapter 5: Dreams - Your friendship with Eren is taken to the next level. You have a sweet dream that turns into a nightmare. Eren tells his parents that he is considering changing his major.
Chapter 6: Gravity - You attend a party with Annie, only to run into Reiner unexpectedly. Mistakes are made and Eren is once again to the rescue, more than ever before.
Chapter 7: Electric - You and Eren share an intimate moment together, one that the both of you wish could last forever. 
Chapter 8: How It Begins - The conclusion of the series Give You Blue.
Epilogue: A little bonus chapter for our couple.
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trashmouth-richie · 8 months
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master list
eddie! x fem reader
summary: 3 years later; happy birthday
I can’t believe this is almost the end. It is so bittersweet to be uploading this and thanking you all for the continued support on this story. I hope you will miss eddie + tooty just as much as I will. The epilogue is next and then a fun little surprise for you all.
trigger warnings: fluff, sweet sweet fluff 💕
Crinkly paper streamers twist down into even boughs along the cedar planked walls.  A homemade banner crafted with the best paint Melvald’s could offer, hung over the sliding patio door, freckled with glitter and deep hues of scarlet and onyx. 
  Carefully stenciled uniform letters spelling out a greeting for the birthday boy, line the banner— perfectly positioned.  
  Looking at it now, you can nearly feel the backache it caused from the leaned over pretzel position you were tangled in while attempting to make it look store bought. Instead it took hours and a ruined shirt to paint each letter with precision on your living room floor. 
  Red plastic cups were stacked in a corner on top of a cheap plastic table cloth adorned with paper plates and plastic utensils. A smaller card table from the Wheeler-Byer’s held a two tiered homemade cake, dolloped with sticky whipped strawberry frosting. His favorite.
  Polaroids of the birthday boy were placed, in no particular pattern, with sticky tack to the wall above the card table holding the presents. 
  Various shots from the past year capturing adventures big and small. He had wanted that.
  Wanted to remember every detail— an important step to moving forward, leaving the past in the dust and enjoying the second chance at life you had both been given. 
  The pictures were mostly candids, snapped in the blur of a moment, memories to be cherished for a lifetime to come. And although some of them were cheesy, or horribly cliche; they held delicate moments of the past two years of you and Eddie, together at last.
  You suck the sticky remnants of frosting from your thumb as you carefully arrange a framed picture of his graduation day just so on the table, stepping back and admiring the hard work and weeks worth of planning you had done.  
  Your fingers dance along the sharp edges of the selected photos you had given Jonathan to print for you. 8”x10”, 5”x7”, colored, sepia tone, and even black and white you had wanted to give it more of a collage feel to the project, and Jonathan did a great job. 
  The pictures varied from moments that probably didn’t need to be remembered and ones that should have been taken by a professional, but it was perfect, exactly the way you had envisioned it. 
  A snapshot photo of Eddie’s plump lips wrapped around a brown beer bottle after a night of helping Wayne paint the outside of his trailer, his signature middle finger in the air, the rings glittering with the flash— was propped next to a candle.
  One of Wayne and Eddie hugging on Christmas last year, a small tree tucked into the corner of the yellowing smoke stained walls and part of your finger covering the lens, and another one right after the first of them both looking shocked that you snapped the picture. 
  A picture of you and him, holding fishing poles on the bank of Lover’s Lake. His arm wrapped around your waist, your pole holding a sizable fish, his line snagged on moss and a tattered beat up tennis shoe, a proud smile on his face as he looked down at you, you mid laugh as Wayne teased Eddie behind the lens.
  Another of just him in black and white, asleep on the bed you shared his dark tattoos looked piercing against his bare chested. Long angelic lashes closed against pinked warm cheeks, the silver scar barely visible on his bottom lip. 
  One with Eddie and the boys, sitting in the backyard, the tails of the fire licking into the sun fading sky, his hands wild in the middle of explaining a campaign idea. 
  A candid of Steve, Eddie, Robin and Dustin wearing their tuxes and running into the ocean. Shoes snug into the sand and socks left forgotten. Steve’s white jacket thrown into the air, half of a laughing, Leighanne all dolled up and beautiful on their big day. 
  A photo from the same day, but of only you and him, your lips perched on his cheek as he held you in his lap in the back of a limo. His other cheek sparkling with the residue of a lipgloss kiss, one hand holding your strappy lavender heels, the other wrapped around your waist. His dimpled smile wide and toothy.
  And finally, your favorite one: one of just you and him, dressed in your homemade costumes as Mario and Luigi. A felt mustache falling from under your nose,his white gloved hands holding up rock n’ roll. Right before you two had won the Halloween costume contest at Nancy and Jonathan’s house. 
  Wayne had brought baby pictures that he had dug out of an old box in the forgotten storage shed when you had moved in. Dust lining the frames showing a brown haired baby with doe eyes, drooling over a washcloth while in the sink for a bath. A curly haired toddler with a big smile while on the swings at a park. And many more that were placed around the house. 
  The most special of them all sat on Eddie’s bedside table: a woman with soft honey muddied curls sweeping down to the middle of a white blouse, sunglasses pushed into her hair atop her head, kissing the forehead of a baby swaddled in a blanket.
  “Tooty!” Gareth called from the kitchen, “phone call!” 
  You set the napkins next to Nancy who was meticulously adjusting the m&m dish  into its correct place. Trying to balance out the clashing colors with the black and red theme. 
  “Looks perfect as always, Nance,” you murmur as you squeeze her arm gently when you pass her. 
  She huffs in disapproval, sweeping a permed curl behind her ear, her finger to her lips as she tuts, “it’s missing something.” You squeeze her arm again and trot into the living room. 
  Gareth is holding the blue phone by the long cord twirling it around like a pair of nunchucks, shoving the last bits of a hot dog in his mouth, ketchup wedged into the corner by his lips. “ it’s Hig D,” he announciates horribly, “somthin’ about heddie— shit that’s good— something about them just getting ready to leave work.” 
  laughing at him you can only roll your eyes, “you’ll make a good whore someday deep throatin’ like that,” you tease, taking the phone from his hand. 
  Gareth chuckles and shoves your shoulder, “haven't had any complaints yet, Oh! By the way, I need a three day extension on rent. Cool?” 
  Rolling your eyes again, a smile escapes your lips as you flip him off. 
  Of all of Eddie’s friends, Gareth was the hardest one to crack, but now he was easily your favorite. He reminded you a lot of Eddie in high school. A wild haired mess, always down for a crazy adventure to surely land him into trouble. But a big ol softie when it came down to people he cared about, especially Will. 
  Curling your fingers around the telephone cord, you talk into the receiver, “hey D, what’s up?” 
  —-
  Argyle and Jonathan arrive through the front door, smelling like purple palm tree delight and balancing pizza boxes in their arms. 
  Robin spins at least a dozen times trying to find a place for the tower of cheesed pie and nearly knocks into Jonathan in her pursuit of frenzy. The boys slide them into place onto a card table against the kitchen wall, a photo of you and Eddie holding the keys to Hop’s cabin with wide grins on your faces hanging above it. 
  The brisk May breeze flows through the house, flickering the candles and making the helium balloons bump into one another in a lazy staticky dance. 
  A blur of red stalks into the house holding two bottles of liquor in each hand, a baseball hat backwards on her head, “hope Eddie likes whiskey because that’s all Walt would sell me,” she says heaving the bottles onto the counter in a clunkered manner, wiping the sweat from her freckled forehead, sporting a fresh new bob cut all thanks to you, “stubborn ass, he charged me nearly double,” she huffs, folding the paper sacks haphazardly, “son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t even let me use my employee rate!” 
  “Thanks for getting it Maxi-pad,” you say over your shoulder stifling a giggle from the old nickname you hadn’t called her since middle school, “Eddie’ll drink beer from a boot as long as he got a buzz from it—let me know what I owe you.” 
  She spins on squeaky sneakers and grabs a slice of pizza from one of the leaning boxes, squishing the greasy cheese between her teeth, talking with a mouthful “quit— we’re square for all the times you’ve come over since moving back.” 
  A sad expression falters behind the mask on her porcelain complexion. But she’s quick to shove it all away. It had been months since she’d been back in Hawkins, and your friend since elementary school was just starting to get her life back into order.
  “Eddie’s offer still stands by the way,” you gently whisper, turning away from placing candles into the pink frosting to give her a quick squeeze, the fringes of your friendship mending together after years of not really speaking. 
  Holding Max at arms length you raise your eyebrows at her, “I’m serious,” a clip in your voice that even Nancy would envy. 
  She shrugs quickly and looks back with wet blue eyes, not willing to let her guard down on the eve of a party, “I’ll think about it,” her jaw set tight. 
 “Let's have fun tonight, okay?” she begs, “it isn’t every day Eddie’s old decrepit ass turns forty.” 
  The giggle she was hoping for to ease the tension tickled your throat, “he’s twenty nine, Maxine,” you tease back. 
  “Oh-ho-ho,” she chuckles, crossing the linoleum to the fridge in a swift motion, throwing open the door and leaning into the illuminated box, fingers dancing along the brown neck of a Bud Light, a smug smile on her salmon lips, “government names huh, T? I’ll remember that.” 
  —
  Will and Mike were in charge of moving vehicles behind the north tree line away from the driveway and out of sight. Each car owner silently held their breath and the litter of anxiety rising higher as Mike got behind the wheel of each car. 13 tickets by Hopper’s deputies hadn’t slowed him down yet. 
  Leighanne, and El had just finished hanging the decorative white lights on the back deck and around the trees. The backyard looked like a little cozy oasis. And it warmed your soul to see it all come together. 
  It was rough when you had first moved in here. Hopper had a buddy who owned the cabin you now call home. It was far from town but hadn’t been renovated in years. Nothing a little elbow grease and nights after work wouldn’t fix, it took six months with help from just about everyone you knew, but the place was perfect. 
  And after everything that happened in Hawkins, Eddie’s promise stuck. 
  He got you both out. Started a new life away from the wandering eyes and whispered lies. Even after he was cleared, people still wouldn’t let it go. 
  But, the cabin was everything you could imagine and more. Perched into a thick grove of trees. Secluded. Secretive. Exactly what you both needed. 
  It was  heaven. 
  Lounging on blankets in the soft grass, bare toes curled into the soft comforter, the girls sat back and laughed as Steve nearly tipped over the entire pan of grilled burgers and hot dogs.  
  “Yeah laugh it up you two!” Steve scolded playfully, tugging and shoving a hand into the thick tuft of hair on his head, “you won’t be laughing when there’s nothing to eat!” 
  “Such sass from The Grill Master,” Leighanne giggled, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, a large diamond on her ring finger.
  Before Steve could whip up something cheeky, Arygle’s smooth baritone voice broke amongst the laughs, “Damn my dude,” he chuckled, leading Eden’s small frame through the patio door, “smells good out here.” 
  Steve huffs again, “Thanks, I’m just doing what I’m told, don’t mind the peanut gallery back there,” he gestures with his spatula to the two giggling gals on the blanket. 
  The keg was perched on the small back deck, ice melting slowly around the tin base. Steve had been grilling burgers for the last half hour, smears of grease rubbed on the bottom of his red apron embossed with fancy lettering, kiss the cook.
  “And you’re doing it man,” Argyle salutes him as a fellow culinary soldier, “it’s art what you’re doing dude, pure fuckin art—like Picasso if he was a chef… piSteveo.”
  “Okay man—yeah, I get it,” Steve says all in one breath, rolling his eyes and cracking a grin back at his bride who was biting her own cheek and trying not to laugh. “Dustin and Susie ride with you?” 
  “Yeah,” Eden scowls, crossing her legs and dragging Argyle down to sit on the picnic bench, her black pixie cut fluttering in the light breeze resembling a real life goth tinkerbell, “that four eyed little shit kept going on and on about the ecosystem and methane gas or whatever, so yeah they’re here— probably terrorizing everyone else about the election or some shit.” 
  Steve snorts and flips another burger onto the grates, the sizzle of charred seasoned beef signaling the first signs of summer, “sounds about right.” 
  “Alright guys,” you say stepping through the sliding patio door, the sun close to setting in the west taking the warmth with it, “D said they’re just leaving so everyone get in position.” 
  -
  “..I’m just sayin’ is all,” D barks, finishing wiping the grease from a gas station bean burrito on the back of his hand from his pudgy lips, “I’ll give you top dollar for it.” 
  Eddie took another sip from his Mt. Dew, barreling down the highway and thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, contemplating heavily on what Big D had been asking of him. 
  “fuck I dunno man… it’s like a part of me y’know?” 
  Eddie rubs the beginning of his scruffy chin, unable to grow a full beard even though he’s nearly in his thirties, Peter Pan syndrome hitting him square in the jaw. 
  “had it since I was fifteen, fixed it all up with my uncle,” he mumbles lighting a cigarette between his teeth, “it’s a staple to the Munson name.” 
  D rolls his eyes and tosses the foil wrapper to the floorboards of Eddie’s truck. “that was like twenty years ago man, you don’t even drive it anymore.”
  Eddie chuckles through a cloud a smoke, turning the steering wheel to the right down the hidden driveway, overgrown grass on both ends of a rotted through fence post, “easy there asshole— ‘sides, thought you were buying Jeff’s mom’s car?” 
  D slides belches loud and throws his chubby hand out the window, fresh air wiggling his fingers slowly, “I did, just gotta fix it up, but the van would be my daily driving chick magnet.” He wiggles his eyebrows like two black caterpillars dancing a tango. 
  Eddie smiles to himself, memories of past times booze cruising to Rick’s and hauling band equipment to the Hideout. Times long gone and fading like the moon into dawn. 
  A time when he was ruthless, chaotic and hungry for the world’s shittiness just so he could add his own fucked up version to it. A big fuck you to anyone who ever doubted him. 
  A time before you were officially his. 
  Nowadays the bear inside of him was tame, licking its paws in laziness, hibernating with the sounds of a calm beating heart. Fed and cared for, content. 
  “We’ll see,” he replies, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “you still owe me $40 for that service you gifted to that waitress last week, fucker.” 
  “Pffft,” D says lighting a cigarette, “take it out of my check boss man.” 
  Eddie cranked his lips into a smirk, it still didn’t feel real.
-
  The roar of Eddie’s diesel truck echoes along the tree line, vibrating against the fallen branches from the late winter storm that snapped full grown Red Oaks like matchsticks when the ice built heavy onto its branches. 
  The cabin lights were dim, curtains pulled tight to barely show the glimpse of any crack of light. It wasn’t unusual, your lives were kept pretty private after everything that happened, doors always locked. 
  “The hell?” Eddie grumbled, wiggling the stick into neutral with the palm of his hand and killing the engine, the old dodge sputtering out to quiet, “thought you said Gareth was comin’ over to practice tonight?” 
  D fumbled for words, reaching for the metal door handle “no, yeah he’s here— maybe Will dropped ‘im off.”
  Eddie quirked an eyebrow, the exhaustion from work taking over his features as he let out a loud yawn and arched his back against the velour seats, he climbed out of the pickup, lunchbox in tow. 
  “alright man, ‘m just gonna shower quick,” he hooks a thumb behind his shoulder, walking up the stone path to the front door, “think Tooty still has the hose hooked up if you wanted to rinse off.” 
  D stomps around the truck, leaning a thick arm onto the hood, “don’t make any special accommodations for me dude, I’m cool.” 
  “Yeah yeah you’re pretty cool alright,” Eddie said climbing the two steps with heavy footsteps, and putting a brass key into the knob, twisting it in his grasp, “why’d you think I had the window dow—”
  Eddie is almost knocked back into the wall by the room full of his friends shouting surprise! as he entered the cabin. 
  Shock and a racing heartbeat wash away to a dimpled smile and squinted eyes. It was worth the weeks of planning and aligning everyone’s schedules to make it all work out. And in the end, the crowd turned into a blur when you peaked your head behind the kitchen wall grinning wide at the handsome man at the door. 
  His girl. His one and only. Spoiling him with a surprise party. Mouthing “happy birthday baby,” from across the room with a warm smile that still was able to tinge his cheeks in the prettiest shade of bashful. 
  Backs were slapped and shoulders clapped as Eddie made his way around to the guests. His smile was wide and toothy, lighting up the room with his deep laugh and dimples. 
  He hugged friends like he hadn’t seen them in years, pressed cheek to cheek and apologizing later for grease smudges left on their shirts. 
  “Shit,” Wayne breathed, as he stepped into the doorway, finding you immediately and looking sympathetic, “sorry we’re late, the missus was wrappin’ a last minute gift.” 
  Nancy and Mike’s mom stood tucked beneath Wayne’s arm. Four gifts wrapped tight and pristine, held in her arms. The alimony from Ted was still treating her more than well. 
  “Wayne,” Karen giggles like a schoolgirl, a long manicured hand to his denim jacket, dismissing him with a wink, “here Tooty,” she gleams, walking towards you with her arms outstretched, embracing you in a hug, “it’s just a little something for the two of you, saw it at the mall and couldn’t resist!” 
  It was an adjustment for the youngest Wheeler when Karen left Ted. Nancy and Mike didn’t seem to care, having already been moved out of the house and living their own lives. But Holly took it hard, refusing to see her mother at all. 
  “It’s perfect thank you Karen,” Eddie said, sneaking around you, his fingers dragging along your lower back  and down your hip, sending shivers to your core. A quick wink to you as he grabs the gifts from her and Wayne. 
  He was happy for them, he had never seen Wayne with someone who treated him so well before  in his life, he gave his shoulder a squeeze, “next time put your glasses on so you can see while driving, might get here on time, old man.”
  Wayne rolled his eyes and put Eddie in a headlock, “I ain’t here to see you anyhow, came to see my favorite daughter in law to be if you’d just marry her already, didn’t even know it was your birthday you little punk.” 
  “Yeah yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “that’s why it says ‘Ed’s birthday’ on the calendar in your office, right? Because you didn’t know?” 
  Wayne releases Eddie and gives him a side hug, “been celebratin’ this day for twenty-three years with y’ boy, I ain’t never forgettin’” 
  Karen was always like a mother to you. The Wheeler’s held such a special place in your heart, and you’d always be grateful for the kindness both her and Ted had shown you when you were growing up. Seeing her now with Wayne surprisingly wasn’t that odd. They balanced each other well. 
  Wayne pulls you into the other side of him, keeping you and Eddie under each arm, “looks real good in here darlin’” He says, looking down at you with icy blue eyes, “sure am glad  y’ learned how to tame this wild li’l shit.” 
  you smile up at the Munson’s and Eddie sticks out his tongue at you. 
  “Now,” he says addressing only Eddie, “I swear on my mama and daddy’s graves, Ed, you better marry this girl someday or ‘m gonna hang y’ from your toes by that clothesline out back.” 
  Eddie rolls his eyes, but before he can speak, Nancy  waves at her mother and stands atop a metal chair.
  “Alright everyone, let’s go out back and we can start eating.”
  Once the room emptied it was just you and Eddie. The tension was always thick in every room you were in with him, electric in ways that buzzed between your legs and made your head feel fuzzy. 
  You waited your turn patiently. 
  Eddie coins a coy grin behind his plump lips, walking with his hands behind his back and moving his shoulder low, cocking his head. 
  Your hands, busy themselves with arranging presents, fingers slipping between the silky ribbons and plucking the ends to watch them curl.  Warm arms surround your waist and you act surprised and let out a squeal. 
  He sets you down and pushes the collar of your shirt to the side, pressing his lips like angel’s wings to the skin on your shoulder, relishing in the way the goosebumps crawled across your flesh. 
  “Eddie,” you hum, working your fingers behind you to pull on the tendrils of sweaty hair tucked behind his neck. 
  “Hmm?” He breathes hot across your neck, working his way up to the dainty gold necklace, the same one brandishing the ring he gave you for Christmas in 1992, nothing compared to the one he was eyeballing at the jewelry store in the mall. 
  Rubbing the underside of your chin with the bulb of his nose, you shudder and feel his grin on your skin, “all of this for me?” 
  You nod and whine when a large hand dances across the waist of your jeans. And almost let out a moan when he nips at your earlobe. 
  Eddie’s work days were long but the nights spent between the sheets were longer, both of you never getting enough of each other. The passion and static was always there. 
  “Wanted to surprise my birthday boy,” you breathed as your head fell back into his shoulder, and he bucked his hips into you, pushing you into the rickety table and shaking the presents. 
  “You’re too good to me,” Eddie whispered into your ear, his fingers digging into your hips. “How am I ever going to thank my pretty gir—?”
  “Hey you guys comin’ or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips and a scorch mark on his apron, “Nancy’s making a fucking seating chart out there, and I really hope you have liability insurance because Argyle is trying to teach Dustin yoga.”
  Eddie takes his lips from your neck and turns to face Steve, “I mean, we coulda been if you hadn’t barged in.” 
  “Eddie!” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and straightening your shirt, “we’ll be right out Steve, just going to give Eddie his birthday present.” 
  His eyes sparkle in mischievous wonder, “oooh you think we have time?” He says unbuttoning his work blues, “I like the way you think dirty sweetheart.” 
  You roll your eyes and tug him down the hallway to your bedroom. 
  “Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, shaking his head and making his way through the patio door, “nah don’t worry I’ll entertain the guests,” he says in annoyance, “maybe we can play parcheesi or hotdog Jenga.” 
  —
  “Don’t peek!” 
  “Oh c’mon!” 
  “Eddie.” 
  “Ugh fine, but you better be naked or I’ll pout.” 
  “Such a brat...”
  “Don’t act surprised babe.” 
  “Alright open, but I am very much still dressed, that part of your present is later tonight.” 
  Eddie had showered and was getting dressed shoving his feet into a worn pair of converse when you waltzed into the room, a small oblong box behind your back. 
  Dropping the carefully wrapped present into his awaiting hands, he holds the box like a carton of eggs. One eye peeked open, “well,” Eddie says rubbing the corners of the box with the calloused pads on his thumbs, “this doesn’t feel like a puppy.” 
  “You poor boy,” you tease with a shove to his shoulder, and a kiss to his cheek, “how will you ever live?” 
  Eddie tears the paper with a hook of his finger where the tape joins the pieces, wet tendrils of hair dripping water marks onto the wrapping, “it’ll be hard but I think I’ll manage.” 
  Biting your lip in anticipation you watch as Eddie tears the paper in boyish glee. And you aren’t sure who’s smile is wider when he finally opens the small rectangle shaped box. 
  It took awhile to save up for it. Cutting countless heads of hair in the renovated room above Master Mechanic’s, the auto shop Eddie co-owned with Wayne in Bridgeport, and earning a small wage by cleaning houses for a few hours on the weekends. 
  But every scrubbed toilet, every rolled perm rod was worth it when Eddie opened his present. 
  “It's about time you saw them live, yeah?” 
  Tickets to Metallica, the same gift. But this time with the promise of actually going and witnessing their magic. 
  “Oh baby,” Eddie nearly cried, running his fingers over the inked words carefully, he set the tickets down on the comforter and wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you into him, “why are you so good to me?” 
  And just like the first time he asked you, years ago, before you were his and he was yours. When you were just roommates exchanging gifts on Christmas. You told him what you should have then. 
  but you don’t fight to find the words anymore, or wonder if it’ll sound dumb. Everything you've been through with Eddie you could never imagine living life with anyone other than him. 
  The words come easy, and it’s one of the truest things you’ve ever said. 
  “Because you’re a good man. Because you’re the reason I wake up smiling every morning. Because I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, and I’ll always, always regret not telling you sooner.” 
  Eddie smiles with a quivering lip and you lean down to wipe the tears from his eyes, his arms wrap around you tight like a vice grip.
  Looking into his eyes, he somehow looked better with every year passing, truly aging like fine wine, and you were drunk on him.
   “Don’t cry on your birthday baby, it’s supposed to be a party,” you smile warmly at him, bringing his chin up a bit
so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips. 
  Pulling you into him so you’re straddling his hips, he whispers an I love you into your ear with your real name attached at the end, all satiny on his breath like a Hershey kiss.
  You don’t hear your God given name very often, having hated it for as long as you remember. Stubbornly telling everyone at a young age that your name was Tooty. Even writing it on all of your school papers as early as kindergarten. 
  But when Eddie said it, it set your soul on fire. Like a secret kept finally being told. Like another wall breaking down with him holding the sledge hammer. Like the first bite of a warm brownie from the oven. It felt good. 
  He presses slow kisses into your neck and moves his large hands to rock your hips against him, “you’re never gonna get rid of me, you know that right?” 
  “Fuck I hope not,” you whisper as you nip at his bare  shoulder,  “I made your favorite cake for tonight and everything.” 
  “Mmm,” Eddie purrs against the column of your throat, “strawberry?” 
  Gathering skin between your teeth you suck a small bruise into his pale neck, tongue swirling soft then firm, his pretty noises filling the bedroom walls. 
  “Yep,” you breathe with swollen lips, and popping the ‘p’, “extra frosting.”
  “Lady evil at it again,” Eddie teases, capturing your lips into a hungry kiss, his hands scoring down your back and bringing your hips impossibly closer to where you were both aching. 
  You giggle as he breaks away, and tickles your sides. He flips you onto the bed. The bulb of his nose wedging between your neck and shoulder as his hips hold you in place, his fingers dig into your armpits, and your ribs. 
  You laugh until your face is red and your neck is slick and painted with a stain of raspberry teeth marks and the lap of his tongue licking the bites better. 
  He gives you a wicked grin, out of breath and his lips swollen, his demeanor changes into something serious. 
He holds his hand on your cheek, sweeping your skin delicately with the pad of his thumb, holding you so gently as if you were made of porcelain, “I’m gonna make you my wife.” 
  Your fingernails scratch lightly down his chest, skipping over the tattoo of little angel wings and a halo for the unborn child you didn’t get the luxury of holding, matching the one on your inner arm. The date etched below in Eddie’s own handwriting. 
  It wasn’t the only new tattoo he had gotten since that day.
  He also had a mockup of a cartoon lady, devil horns on her head and a long black demon tail wagging behind her, that sat on his bicep. A pout identical to yours on her pretty little face, arms crossed in a fit.  ‘my girl’ in old English font beneath her little stiletto heels. 
  Your fingertips trace the lines of blank ink on his chest. And you lift your eyes to his. 
  Opening your soul to him for the millionth time, spreading its wings and joining with his into that dream land he swore he’d take you to, dancing on the rings of Saturn, bathing in the springs of Jupiter. 
  He smiles softly and so do you, heart soaring and beating fast, “about damn time,” you whisper softly just before his lips close around yours.
  Although your life would never be the same after that awful day, the one you were crafting and coloring outside the straight black lines with Eddie by your side, was pretty damn great. 
  And you wouldn’t change a thing.
🤧
🏷️
@bebe07011 @dashingdeb16 @hiscrimsonangel @luxaeterna13 @enam3l
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heartateasee · 2 months
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“Epilogue”
Word Count: 19.2k (a long one, but it didn’t feel right to split it up)
(Epilogue for ‘Goodnight and Go’)
Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving) and unprotected sex
⋆★★⋆
*Late winter - a little over three years since the wedding*
*It will be notated in the chapter when the song is meant to start. I highly encourage you to start it when it comes into play, but you can also do whatever your sweet heart desires!*
Sitting in my go to cafe, I jot down another thought into my journal as I take a sip of my black coffee. Today had been a heavy mental day, and I just needed to get out of my house to clear my head. My therapist tasked me with taking up journaling at the end of my first month of therapy - my fourth session. She asked me to start out with lists that she would give me, but then after a while she told me just to jot down whatever came to mind. Even though I wasn't actively in therapy anymore, I still held onto this - it was enough for me to not have to go to an appointment every week.
I was proud of myself for that. I've been able to use the tools given to me to be able to tend to my own mind, and to talk myself down - only having to see my therapist when absolutely necessary.
I couldn't pinpoint why today in particular had my mind so boggled though. There wasn't anything upcoming that I was stressed about that I could think of off the top of my head.
My pen continues to scratch over the page, and I feel that my eyebrows are narrowed in concentration as I let out thought after thought. I could feel the fog in my mind starting to ease with each line, but still...it didn't seem to be enough.
As much as I have gotten a good grip on myself and my emotions, there were days that I still just felt...off. Today was definitely one of them. It wasn't so much anxiousness or nervousness that I was feeling - something that I've battled with for the past two years. It was something different. It was something that I couldn't exactly put my finger on, and I think that's what caused my mind to race from the moment I opened my eyes this morning.
The cafe was bustling on this Saturday morning, and I was lucky that I was able to get my usual two seat table in the back corner. Although I can hear the baristas loud and clear from here, the rest of the noise in the cafe seems to drown due to how far back I am.
"Order for Carter!"
My pen stops, and I take a moment to blink at the page.
It can't be her.
Shaking my head, I push the thought from my mind as I chew on my bottom lip - trying to figure out how to phrase what I want to write down next.
It's not until I see a streak of red hair out of my peripheral that I finally look up.
There's no mistaking the woman smiling as she picks up her cup off the counter. She digs into her bag, and I can see that she's given the barista a postcard with an illustration of a flower on it. There's some kind of quote on the back, and by the look on the barista's face, it must be something kind, or inspirational.
Before I can even think about it, I push myself up from my seat to get a better look. My movement must have been caught out of the corner of her eye because it's barely a few seconds later that she's looking at me.
She holds her paper cup in both hands as we stare at each out from a ways across the cafe - her expression unreadable.
I hadn't seen her since the wedding. After that, she disappeared from my life completely. I had tried for months to reach her, but I never got any response. Gwen had told me she had tried to do the same. I'd only found out just in the past year that was a lie.
No one saw Carter that first Christmas after everything.
After that, the holidays were always separated due to the fact that Carter and Gwen's parents divorced only a few months after the wedding. I knew that  Carter spent the holidays with her father while Gwen and I spent them with mother. Their parents hardly had any communication with each other, and I knew that their mother hadn't attempted to reach out to Carter at all - something she made very clear whenever she could.
I should've realized then what this all would become.
Carter's brown eyes look around for a moment before she starts to walk over to me, and I immediately feel my hands begin to shake.
"Harry," she says, just barely meeting my eyes now that she was closer to me. "Hi."
"Hi, Carter," my voice almost sounds strained as I speak, and I clear my throat almost immediately. "I...I didn't know you were visiting."
"Oh, no," she shakes her head. "I'm not visiting. I moved back a couple of months ago. This place has become a regular spot for me. I don't live too far from here."
I raise my eyebrows at her words, and it's then I can see she's looking past me to get a view of the table I had been sitting at - as if she were looking for someone else.
"Do you want to sit?" I ask, turning around and gesturing to the chair across from the one I had been occupying. "I'm here by myself."
Carter takes a moment before she nods. "Okay."
I pull the seat out for her, which earns me a small 'thank you', before I sit back in my own seat. Carter turns to hang her bag on the back of her chair before she's facing forward once more - both of her hands finding their way around her cup again.
Her eyes look down at my journal, and I quickly close it - pulling it from the table to slip into the green tote bag I had brought with me.
"You journal?" She asks, tilting her head to the side.
"Uh, yeah," I lift a hand to rub the back of my neck. I've never really talked to anyone but my therapist about my journaling before. "For about a year or so now."
Carter hums as she nods, pursing her lips to the side. "I do too, but I'm going on about two and a half years. I picked it up when I started therapy."
My chest aches as I can see a sheen of sadness in her eyes for a moment before it disappears. "I started it up for the same reason too."
I can tell this surprises her, and silence blankets over us for a moment.
"Are you still tattooing?" I ask - grimacing when I realize just how awkward this feels between us.
"I am," I watch as a large smile creeps onto Carter's face. "I'm actually working at the shop with Duncan again. He was nice enough to hire me back as soon as I told him I'd be moving home. He was thrilled, actually."
"Of course he was," I say, laughing a bit. "You're exceptional at what you do, Carter. Any shop would be lucky to have you."
Carter's cheeks flush due to my compliment, and I watch as she lifts her cup to her mouth. She hisses quickly as she pulls it away, and I know she's burned her tongue.
"Here," I reach forward without hesitation to take the cup from her.
Her eyes are trained on my every move as I pull the lid off the cup, setting it down on a napkin on the table. This was something I did for her quite often when we were in college. There was a bookstore/coffee shop that we frequented a few days a week, and Carter was never one to be patient and wait for her drink to cool properly. I started doing this as a quick solution without her even asking. It just became a habit for me.
I can tell her eyes are on my left hand, and then she looks up at me. "You...you're not..."
"I'm not...what?"
Carter looks back at my hand before looking at my face again. "You're not wearing your ring."
My eyebrows knit together as I look at her. "Carter," I start, and I can tell she's genuinely curious as to why that particular piece of jewelry is missing. "Gwen and I are divorced."
Her eyes widen for a moment, and I watch as the color leaves her face. "O-Oh....oh," she says, straightening up in her chair as she drops her hands to her lap. I can tell she's running her palms over her thighs as she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Harry, I-I didn't-"
"You didn't know?"
Carter shakes her head again, and I can see with the way her chest is moving that she's trying to take deep breaths.
"Hey," I whisper, leaning forward to take one of her hands in mine from underneath the table - thankful that this table wasn't too big so I was able to reach across to her easily. "It's okay. It actually doesn't surprise me that you wouldn't know."
I run my thumb along her knuckles, and I can tell it's starting to soothe her as she finally looks up from the table to make eye contact with me.
"My dad had said that Gwen moved away, but I figured that meant you did too. That's why I was a bit shocked to see you here," she says, and I can tell she's trying to put it all together. "I don't think he even knows you guys have separated. My mom had only told him about the move."
I can't help but roll my eyes at that. Another thing that didn't shock me. Their mother didn't want their father, or Carter, to know about the divorce. She didn't want Gwen to look like she failed at something.
"She did move," I give Carter's hand one more squeeze before sitting back in my chair - our touch separating. "About five months ago. We've been separated for almost a year and a half. She left a few months after the divorce was completely finalized."
Carter's face shows that she's completely dumbfounded by this information, but she's trying to keep it together. "That's...that's why I moved back, you know? Because I thought you both were gone."
Her words sting, but I can't hold them against her. We wronged her, Gwen and I both, and I don't ever expect her to forgive me for the way that I treated her while I was with Gwen. I know that if anyone had treated me the way I did her, I'd never speak to them again.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you to sit with me. I didn't know you thought I was gone too," I tell her, and now I'm the one gripping my thighs. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I more than understand if I'm the last person you ever wish to talk to."
Looking down at my lap, I pick at my cuticles as I wait to hear her chair slide across the floor. But I don't.
I look up to see Carter still looking at me, and she shakes her head. "I chose to sit here, Harry. I'm okay, I promise."
I give her a small nod, but I immediately look back down at my lap.
A few seconds pass before I hear her clear her throat. "I like your hair. I never thought I'd see you with it so short."
I can't help but smile at her words, and I look at her once more. "Yeah? It's not weird without the curls?"
"I mean...it's a little weird," Carter smirks, and I know she's trying to help our playful banter come out again. "But they look like they're on the verge of growing back. I'm enjoying this little faux hawk thing you have going on though."
She lifts her drink to her lips and takes a sip - not flinching away from the liquid this time, so I know it's cooled down properly for her.
"It feels nice," I shrug. "Healthy and all. I buzzed it completely when the divorce was finalized. It was therapeutic, honestly."
"Oh? I wish I could've seen it buzzed," she giggles, pursing her lips to the side before speaking again. "I get the whole changing your hair thing though. I went brunette a few months after I left."
"Did you really?"
"Yeah, let me see. I'm sure I still have some pictures on my phone," she says before digging into her bag.
She swipes on her screen for a while before turning her phone to face me. "See?"
Even though I know it's Carter in this picture, it's not my Carter. She's smiling for the camera, but there's a dimness behind her eyes that I've never seen from her. She was unhappy - that much was clear.
"Oh, wow," I say, giving her a half grin so as to not disappoint her. "It definitely suited you, but I have to be biased when it comes to the red. It's just you."
"Yeah, I like the red too - I like being natural and all that."
She drops her phone back into her purse before I go to speak again.
"So, did you move back by yourself or..."
"Yeah, just me, and my little black cat, Ichabod," I can see her face light up as she mentions her cat, and it causes a warmth in my chest. "I had been seeing this guy for a little over a year, and I broke up with him about...half a year ago now? It just wasn't working out."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I tell her genuinely. "He wasn't bad to you, was he?"
"Oh, no," Carter shakes her head adamantly. "Not at all. He was actually very sweet, but I realized that even though I loved him, I wasn't in love with him anymore. So, I broke it off almost immediately after realizing that. I didn't want to string him along when I wasn't going to be one hundred percent in the relationship."
"And why do you think you weren't?" I ask, and I watch as Carter starts to play with the cardboard sleeve around her cup. "Why do you think you weren't one hundred percent in the relationship?"
Her eyes peer up at me underneath her lashes, but her face is still tilted slightly towards the table. "I think you and I both know why, Harry."
My stomach flutters when I realize what she's alluding to, but I don't want to press that conversation any further. Not here, and not after just seeing her again for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.
"Well, I'm sorry it didn't end up working out. You deserve all the happiness in the world."
"What makes you think that just because that ended that I'm unhappy? I'm actually the happiest I've been in a while since moving back," she tells me, but there's no aggression to her tone as she continues her explanation. "I've just been letting life take me where it wants for the most part, and yeah I get lonely sometimes, but it's okay. The quiet doesn't bother me anymore like it used to."
The confidence that I can see in her now is admirable. She's so sure of herself, and I can tell she means what she says.
Carter is happy.
"Can I ask what it was that you handed the barista earlier?" I have a feeling that whatever that was plays into this newfound self that I can see she has.
"Oh, those are just little postcards I make for fun. I do them in series, I guess? Like right now they're all different flowers, and the quotes on the back have to do with either growth, or rebirth," she explains, leaning forward onto the table a bit. "I keep them in my bag, and I hand them out to people who I feel need them, or someone who's shown me kindness that day. It's nice to see their reactions."
Carter has always had a big heart, and it makes me ecstatic to see that hasn't changed despite what those closest to her have put her through.
As happy as it makes me to see her own growth, there's also a part of me that's sad that I missed it. But the guilt is what chews at me the most. The guilt of just letting her slip through my fingers like I did.
"Oh, shit, what's the time?" I hear Carter ask before she pulls out her phone again. "I need to be at the shop in ten minutes. I'm sorry, I've gotta go."
"That's okay, I was just finishing up too. Let me walk you out?" I ask, and she looks over to me after stopping her slightly frantic movements.
"Sure, yeah."
She puts the lid on her drink as I stand and put the strap of my tote over my shoulder, and soon we're both heading towards the entrance of the cafe. I hold the door open for her as we step outside, and we move over onto the sidewalk so that we're not blocking the door as we stop.
"It was really good seeing you, Carter," I tell her honestly. "And I know it might be too much of me to ask, and you can absolutely say no, but do you think we could meet up again sometime?"
Carter chews on her bottom lip as she contemplates my request before she nods. "Yeah, I think that would be okay. I think I'd like that."
I can tell I have the stupidest smile on my face when I hear her agree. "Okay, yeah, uhm, let me just get my phone out for you to put your new-"
"I have the same number," she interrupts me, and I could tell she was a bit hesitant to say that considering she never once responded to me when I tried to reach out. "And I still have your number too."
I don't say anything in response to that because I understand why she did what she did. I give her a nod, slipping my phone back into my pocket.
"Okay, well, I'll text you so we can plan something, alright?"
"That sounds good."
We stand there for a moment, and I can tell neither of us really know how to end the conversation.
"Did you ever get your heart tattoo?" Carter blurts out, and I can see it was something she had been itching to ask me this whole time.
I laugh softly. "You remember that?"
She nods while giving me a small shrug. "It just stuck with me."
"I haven't, no," I say. "I actually haven't gotten anything since before...everything."
"You mean like before the wedding?"
"Yeah," I sigh, running the tip of my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. "Didn't really have the motivation or inspiration to get anything new."
Carter stares at me for a moment before speaking again. "Well, if you want to still get it done, I'd be more than happy to do it for you. Just text me when you're free, and I'll see if it lines up with what I have booked right now."
"Wait, are you serious?" I ask. I'm taken completely by surprise that she would offer to do this so quickly after just seeing each other again.
"Well, you told me you wanted me to be the one to do it, right?" She asks playfully as she bumps her shoulder against mine. "I'm not letting anyone else tattoo that on you."
"I guess when you put it that way," I say as if she's twisting my arm, which causes her to let out a noise of disappointment - having her now shove my arm. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I wouldn't want anyone else doing it for me either."
Carter looks up at me with a beaming smile, and for a moment I'm transported right back - as if things never changed. "Then it's settled. Just text me."
"I will."
She begins to walk away from me before she stops. "Oh, here!"
Walking back over, she digs in her bag and flips through something for a moment before she's extending one of her postcards out to me. "I think this one belongs to you."
I look down at it for a moment, and by the time I look back up, I can already see her back towards me in the distance. Shaking my head at her with a smile of my own, I look back down at the postcard to really study it.
On the front was just a plain line work illustration of a daffodil. I flip it over on the back, and I see this one in particular has two quotes. I read each of them over once, but then I find myself reading them again, and again once I process what they really mean.
"The people who are meant to be will always gravitate back towards you, no matter how far they wander." - UNKNOWN
"Souls tend to go back to who feels like home." - N.R. HART
⋆★★⋆
It's been a couple of weeks since I saw Carter at the coffee shop, but we had been texting almost every day. I didn't seem too eager, so I didn't text her about booking the tattoo until later that evening, and he she was able to fit me in today. Neither of us made any moves to ask about hanging out outside of my tattoo appointment, but I wanted to so badly.
When I got back to my place after running into her that afternoon, I immediately got on my computer and searched what a daffodil symbolizes. I was met with the answer that it meant 'rebirth and new beginnings' among a few other things, but those stuck out to me the most. She was sending me a signal that maybe we could build this again.
I knew that things were going to be different, it was almost impossible for things to go back to the way they were back then, but I desperately craved to be in Carter's presence again.
Her quote that she handed to me was right. She felt like home.
That was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while - not even when I spent my first Christmas back in Holmes Chapel this past December. It felt weird going back there by myself, but I did find comfort in being back with my mother, especially since the divorce was still pretty fresh. I ended up staying with my parents for a little over a month. I had never been more thankful for my job allowing me to work from home more than during that time.
I didn't realize just how much time I needed away from everything until then. It gave me a chance to help clear my head, and I still met with my therapist over Zoom so that I kept up with my sessions. It wasn't until I got back that I made her aware that I thought I was doing okay on my own, and that I wanted to see her on a per needed basis going forward. She agreed that she thought that was appropriate, and I've only had to see her once since then.
The need to see her came after Gwen was back in town visiting her mother. She told me that after she moved she realized she had taken some stuff of mine, and she wanted to give it back. I had tried to convince her just to leave it on her mother's porch whenever she left, and that I'd come by and grab it once I knew she was gone, but she refused. I was tempted to tell her just to forget it, that I didn't want any of it back, and that was the truth until she rattled off what the box included. It wasn't until she said there was a spiral bound notebook with a tattered red cover that I knew I needed to get that box back.
That notebook was one that Carter and I used to write notes back and forth to each other in during the class where we first met.
It was obvious that Gwen hadn't gone through it. If she had, there was no way she would've wanted to give me something so sentimental back - especially since it included a piece of Carter. When I went over there to get the box from her, she was immediately in my ear the whole time. She was asking if I thought I had made the right decision divorcing her, and if I was happy with myself. She asked if I had found someone new - asked if they felt as good as she did it.
But it wasn't until she brought up Carter that I snapped.
"I swear to god, if you're with my 'pick me' of a little sister, then you're just pathetic," she had said, and that caused me to stop right where I was. I had been trying to get back to my car so I could pack the box up and leave.
"I think you're a bit mistaken, Gwen," I told her as I looked over my shoulder to see her standing there with her hands on her hips. "You've always been the 'pick me' out of the two of you. I thought by now you maybe would've looked in a mirror and seen that you're the problem - not just with me, but with everyone. All I can say is that I'm lucky I can see it now, and I'm glad I got out of our marriage when I did."
That left her completely dumbfounded, and she didn't utter another word as I got into my car and left. I'm hoping that's the last time I'll ever have to see Gwen.
Regardless of how I defended myself and Carter against her, I was still shaken up by the encounter. My therapist was thankfully able to work me in that same day for a visit. She didn't respond much to me - it was more so of a vent session for me anyway. At the end of that session, she told me that I should be proud of finding it within myself to not only see Gwen, but to also stand up to her. That was something I hadn't been able to do at all in my last year with Gwen.
The first six months of marriage was wonderful, but the remaining year was horrific. I had dealt with Gwen coming home and screaming at me almost every day due to stress from her work. It wasn't until things got physical that I knew I had to leave.
At first it was a slap, and she apologized profusely for it - telling me she would never mean to hurt me, and she couldn't explain why she did it. I let it slide because I knew how much pressure she was under. The next time she hit me it was her closed fist connecting harshly with my chest. The final time, she had attempted to throw a vase at my head. She was lucky I was able to move out of the way quickly, and I avoided it.
I left that night, packing up what I absolutely needed, and I told her that I would be back to get the rest of my things. It took me about a week to get everything out, except for that one box of stuff apparently, and I made sure that I checked our Ring camera for movement before going over so I could see if she was at work. I didn't want to see her anymore at all. The thought of being in her presence made my skin crawl.
The whole thing made me wonder if the physical part of her anger was only just towards me, or if she had ever gotten physical like that with Carter. It broke me to think that Carter could've been on the receiving end of her wrath in that way, and I prayed that I was wrong in thinking that it maybe had happened in the past.
I let Gwen keep the house because I didn't want it. I didn't want the awful memories those walls held, and I knew that with the divorce I'd end up getting some money back for it considering we bought it together. Once I got the money from everything, I ended up getting a house of my own. Thankfully Gwen told the courts the divorce was amicable even though she really didn't want it, and the only reason why she agreed to that was because I agreed to not bring up her abuse if she did so.
I just wanted it all to be over. I wanted to start fresh, and I needed to be rid of her.
I'm drawn out of my thoughts when I realize I'm close to the tattoo shop, and I do my best to force the negativity out of my mind. Today was going to be a positive experience. I also think that today is going to set the tone of where things go from here with Carter. I'm hoping the outcome is us trying to rebuild our friendship, but I would be more than understanding if Carter didn't wish to get close with me again in that capacity. She had every right to deny me.
I parallel park on the street right out front of the shop, just across the street, and hop out. Once I'm inside, I'm immediately drawn to her red hair as she stands at her station. I can see that she's applying some second skin to the forearm of the girl sitting on her table.
"Harry, right?" I hear my name being called, and I look over to see Duncan.
"Yeah, that's right," I give him a small nod while sending him a smile. "It's been a while, Duncan. How are you?"
"I've been good, man, really good," Duncan says as he leans against the check-out counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Business has been great, and I just moved into a new house with my wife and little girl. No complaints. How about you? Carter mentioned that you would be coming in."
I can't help but laugh a bit when I try to think of how to answer Duncan's question. I've never been one to dump my feelings on people when they casually ask how you're doing. "I'm getting better," I tell him honestly. "Had some things happen over the past couple of years, but I'm definitely finding myself again."
Duncan doesn't get a chance to respond as Carter starts walking her client up to the counter. "Hi, Harry," she says, her smile growing the closer she gets to me. "I'll be just another minute or so."
"Take your time," I tell her, shoving my hands into my front pockets.
"You can go ahead and wait by my station if you'd like. I'll just need to get everything sanitized once I'm back over there, then we can start," she tells me, and I give her a nod before following her instructions.
I sit down on one of the stools she had over there as I wait for Carter, but I find it hard to keep my eyes off of her from across the shop. It's clear to see that she's definitely gotten more sure of herself over these past few years. She holds a smile the whole time she checks the client out, and I can see this newfound charisma that I caught at the cafe the other day just seeping out of her.
Once she finishes up, she heads back over to me, and I witness a softness pooling in her eyes as she stands next to me. "How are you?"
I stand up from the stool, and out of habit I go to wrap my arms around her. Carter's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't stop me, if anything, she's quick to reciprocate. Her cheek rests against my chest, and I feel her let out a large exhale as her fingers curl into the loose jumper I was wearing.
"I'm good," I speak, finally replying to her question - moving around so my own cheek is now lying on the top of her head. "How about you?"
I feel Carter nod against me for a moment before we separate. "I'm good as well."
She moves away from me to slip on a pair of gloves, and she begins to wipe her table down completely. Once done, she motions for me to sit there, and she starts to get her station ready.
"Are you nervous?" She peeks at me over her shoulder with a smirk before looking back to her task at hand.
"A little bit, actually," I chuckle, running my hands over the tops of my thighs. "It's been a while, and I think I remember how it feels, but I'm questioning if I really do or not."
"Oh god," Carter gasps as she turns around completely, tugging on my jumper to signal it's time to take it off. "You're not going to pass out on me, are you?"
I can tell she's still being playful with me, and I shake my head. "I think we're good unless I somehow randomly see someone getting their tongue pierced."
Carter tilts her head back with a large laugh, clapping her hands together as I pull my jumper over my head. I'm wearing a black tank top underneath to make it easier for her to access the inside of my bicep. "I'll make sure to have Duncan tell me if someone comes in for one of those so we can make sure you don't get up to go to the bathroom and pass the piercing room at that time."
I roll my eyes at her while she pulls her hair into a bun on the top of her head as I hang my jumper on the small coat rack she has in the corner.
As I walk back over, I see that Carter is slipping the drawing she's made of the heart I wanted out of the front of her binder. The front of her binder is usually reserved for fun little sketches of hers, much like the ones I first noticed when we were in college. I look at the side of her face as I watch her, knowing she usually keeps her stencils in one of the clear sleeves she had inside.
"Did you just finish that up last night? Is that why it's in the front?" I ask, gesturing to the drawing as I sit down on the side of the table.
Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye as she shakes her head. "Uh no...I've had this done for a while," she says, and she quickly clears her throat. "I just need to get it all prepared, I'll be right back."
My eyes watch her as she goes, but she returns quickly with another fresh pair of gloves on, and the stencil of the heart in her hand. "You said you wanted this on the inside of your bicep, right?"
I nod as I lay back on the table, and I extend my arm out for her. Carter sits down on her stool, rolling over to me before holding the edges of the stencil between the pads of her thumb and index finger on each of her hands. Tilting her head to the side, she tries different positions before it, and I see her eyes light up when she gets it right. She lays the stencil down - smoothing it over to make sure it all gets on my skin.
"Have a look," she says as she pulls it off, and I stand from the table one more to take a look at it in the full length mirror.
I move my arm in all different directions to make sure none of them make it look funny before I nod. "That's perfect, Carter. It looks great."
Once I lay back down on the table, she grabs her gun and scoots as close as possible to me. "You ready?
"Yep," I sigh, looking at the ceiling as I hear the buzzing start.
It's only a few seconds later that I feel that familiar scratch across my skin, and I grimace slightly from how long it's been since I've felt it. I take in a deep breath as I can tell she's trying to warm me up a little bit before she really gets started.
"Doing okay?" Carter checks in on me, giving my upper bicep a reassuring squeeze as she dips back into the ink for a moment.
"Yeah, feels like I remember," I say, earning a small giggle from her.
"Well, that's good then, yeah?"
I nod as she starts up again, and it's silent between the two of us for a while before Carter speaks.
"I've had the heart finished since before...everything," she whispers, and I move my head to the side so I can look at her properly. Her eyes stay focused on her work, but she flicks them up to meet mine for just a moment. "I was going to show you the drawing that night, sort of as a surprise present, I guess."
It's as if I almost feel my heart actually crack in my chest at her confession. I couldn't believe that she had finished it up back then, but I also couldn't believe that she had held onto it for this long. Part of that gives me hope that she was just waiting for the opportunity for us to reconnect at some point, like we have now.
I had thought about her so much since the last time I saw her, but she had grown even heavier on my mind since I started therapy. My therapist really helped me work through my feelings, and the more I worked through them, the more I realized just how much I had fucked up with Carter. I've beaten myself up time, and time again while looking back on how I treated her, and how I allowed her to be treated.
The image of her standing in that groom's suite, begging me to reconsider my marriage is forever engraved in my mind. Her body trembling with her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cowered away from me. I thought that night I found her outside at the formal was going to be the worst I'd ever seen her, and the fact that I was the cause of an even worse reaction than that...I'll never be able to forgive myself. My therapist has told me time and time again that I needed to find it within me to do so, but I don't see how it's possible.
"And I'd really like to talk everything over at some point," Carter speaks up again, but now she keeps her sight down, and off my face. "But for now, I think it would be nice to just get to know each other again, if that's something you're okay with. Once we feel like we're in a comfortable place, then I'd like for us to be able to put it all out on the table. I have a lot I feel like I need to say, and a lot I need to ask."
"I think I'd really like that too, Carter," I agree, reaching my hand out when she stops tattooing me for a moment. I wrap my palm around her forearm, rubbing my thumb against her smooth skin. "You don't know how nervous I've been these past couple of weeks. I was just holding onto hope that you would give me another chance."
"I still have a lot of hurt feelings," she explains as I drop my hand to allow her to start up her work again. "But I also didn't handle things in the right way. I was hoping that seeing each other would open up that opportunity for us to reconnect."
Looking up at me again for just a second, we give each other soft smiles.
It's a couple hours later that Carter finishes up my tattoo completely. My bicep now felt like a bunch of pins and needles, but I didn't want to have to come back for another session. I've always been one to complete my tattoos in one session, if possible. Carter had already let me look at the tattoo, and put the second skin on it before I walked over to the coat rack to grab my jumper.
"Here, let me help you," I hear her say after she disposes of her gloves. "Go ahead and put your arms in, and I'll help pull it down."
I do as she asks, keeping my arms above her head, and only starting to lower them down as I feel her pulling the hem of my jumper down as well. Once it was on properly, she gave me a nod. "I'm going to just clean up really quick since you were my last one of the day, and then I'll meet you at the counter, okay?"
I head over to the lobby section of the shop and sit down on one of the couches, beginning to scroll through my phone as I wait for her. I can hear her holding conversations with a couple of people around the shop over the next few minutes, and finally I hear her calling my name.
Walking over to the counter, she tells me my total, and my eyebrows narrow. "Carter, you know that's not right," I tell her with a small laugh.
"Friends and family discount," she shrugs, giving me a smug smile.
I roll my eyes, but I allow her to charge me what she wants - handing my card over. Once everything was settled, we head out of the shop, and I point to my car that's parked across the street. "That's me."
"That's me," she mimics, pointing to her car that was just a little ways down on the same side of the street.
"I'll walk you."
Carter nods, and I rest my hand against the small of her back to keep her on the inner part of the sidewalk as we make our way towards her car. Once there, she turns to face me, a tender look on her face.
"It was nice getting to tattoo you again," her voice is warm as she speaks, and I feel my stomach fluttering with how sincere she sounds. "I haven't tattooed a friend since Kieran, and that was a couple of years ago, so this was wonderful."
"Well, I'm glad it was you that could give me another tattoo after so long," I tell her, reaching out to rub my hand up and down her arm for a moment before dropping it.
"I'll text you, and maybe we can plan on meeting up to do something sometime next week? The weather is getting warmer, so I was hoping to spend some more time outside."
"Yeah, that sounds great. We can definitely figure something out," I respond, biting down on my bottom lip.
"Before I go, I wanted to give you this," Carter says before digging into her bag, much like she did before she walked away from me at the cafe. "Wait to read it until you're in your car but...I think this explains what I felt all those years ago a little better than I did back then, and how I've felt going forward."
Looking down at the postcard, I see that there's now a line illustration of a nightingale instead of a daffodil. "This drawing is beautiful, Carter."
"Thank you," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat. "I'm sorry to dart off so quickly, but I promised my dad I'd come over and make us some dinner tonight."
"Don't apologize, we practically spent the afternoon together."
We step forward to wrap ourselves in another embrace - all while being mindful of my fresh tattoo.
"You smell the same," I hear Carter whisper after a moment, and I look down to see her snuggling her nose into my chest. "I've missed it."
Swallowing harshly, I force away the tears that want to spring in my eyes. "You smell the same too. I've missed it...missed you so, so much."
I take a chance, and I press my lips against the crown of her head. I feel Carter's cheeks round out against my torso before she's looking up at me with a wide smile. "I'll see you soon."
"See you soon."
We separate, and I stand on the sidewalk to make sure she takes off safely. She waves at me through her window as she drives off, and I make my way over to my car. I'm immediately pulling up google on my phone to look up the symbolism of a nightingale, and the tears I had just wished away come crawling back.
"Found in Persian culture, through poetry and music, the nightingale has been celebrated as a symbol of unrequited love."
I press my tongue against the inside of my cheek as I look out my window, feeling moisture beginning to wet my face. My hand shakes as I continue to hold the postcard, but I can't look back down at it. I'm scared of what the other side, the quote, will bring.
I give myself a moment or two, sniffling softly before I look down - flipping the card over.
"No matter how much you wish you could, you cannot control how another person feels and loves.
Just because someone fails to see your worth, it doesn't make them a bad person, and it doesn't mean you are unlovable. It simply means that they aren't meant for you.
You should never have to spend your days and nights wondering if you are good enough for somebody. You are enough. You are more than enough for the right person.
Always remember that your happiness comes first. Focus on loving yourself, really loving yourself and you will see your value and find the strength to walk away from unrequited love.
Weeks, months, years will pass and you'll look back and wonder why on earth it took you so long to see that all along you deserved everything you always wished you had.
- CHARLOTTE FREEMAN"
⋆★★⋆
It's a Saturday night, and I've been sitting outside of Carter's house for the past fifteen minutes - just staring down at the bundle of daffodils in my hand. My mind is going a mile a minute, and I know I have to calm myself down before I go up and knock on her door. I got here early for this specific reason. I knew that I would probably work myself up, and sure enough, I have.
This was the first time either of us had agreed to meet at one of our houses. Over the past three and a half months, we've been seeing each other only in public spaces.
I was more than okay with us only meeting out in public. We both made the decision to take things slow as we rebuild our relationship with each other, and we both know that this relationship will more than likely be similar to our previous one, but there's no way it could ever be the same.
I think the scariest thing for me was that I found myself falling back in love with Carter easily.
Through therapy I realized that I never really stopped loving her in that way, I had just suppressed my feelings because I thought she didn't feel the same.
Going to therapy made me remember a lot of things I had pushed to the back of my mind when it came to the transition of my feelings for Carter into my feelings for Gwen. I had forgotten about how anytime Carter was out of the house, Gwen was telling me that she was out with a boy. I thought that Carter was hiding a relationship from me, and subconsciously, that's why I hid my relationship with Gwen. It wasn't until years later that I found out that Gwen had been feeding me lies.
Bottom line - Gwen manipulated me our entire relationship.
I know I'm not completely innocent, and that her manipulation isn't a complete excuse for the way that I acted, but it made me realize just how much she lied to me. She did anything she could to keep her hooks in me until she knew she had me fully secured, and then it was already too late with Carter. I had already separated myself from her to keep myself from getting hurt even further, and I had already started to fall in love with Gwen.
I know that I loved Gwen at one point. I know that I was still in love with her even when she hit me, but I know I fell right out of love with her the night she could've caused me irreparable damage.
Fuck, I didn't need to be thinking about all of this right now.
Tucking my chin to my chest, I suck in a deep breath as I lift my hand to pinch at the bridge of my nose. Reminiscing on the past in this very moment wasn't helping me calm down.
Instead I try to focus on the positive. Carter somehow found it in her heart to give me a second chance, and our reconnecting felt different to than I had anticipated. I could tell by the way she looked at me that she felt the same way too. We exchange small intimate touches every now and then, but that's as far as it's gone. I've also noticed that we're a lot more flirty with each other than we used to be. It's almost as if we were a couple that had separated, and now we're trying to figure out if time apart could make it work again. It didn't feel like we were necessarily rebuilding just a friendship.
It wasn't until this past Tuesday when we were sitting on a bench in the park that I asked her to dinner.
Carter had been talking about getting a corn-dog from this street cart for a few days, and I finally suggested to her that we just go and get them together. She was more than ecstatic when I told her that I wanted to go too. She got a regular corn-dog, and I got one with a plant-based hotdog inside. While we sat on the bench, her legs were draped over my lap as she leaned against the arm rest, ankles crossed one over the other.
Her heart shaped sunglasses were perched on her nose as I traced my fingertips up down one of her legs as we ate.
"I'm so happy right now," she said, using her hand to cover her mouth full of food as she spoke - as if she couldn't wait to tell me. "Thank you for coming with me, Harry. We picked such a good day too. It's beautiful out."
I swallowed the bite I was chewing before responding to her. "Of course I was going to come with you. I had to see the look on your face once you finally got your corndog."
The giggle that left her warmed my heart as her nose scrunched up, and I gave her thigh a squeeze. Humming, she let her free hand travel down to wrap around my fingers, and we remained like that for the rest of the time that we ate.
We stayed at the park for about an hour total, and it wasn't until we were about to get up and leave that I finally grew the balls to ask her what I had been wanting to ask her for a few weeks at that point.
That's when I asked her about grabbing dinner together, something we hadn't done yet.
"Yeah, of course we can grab dinner sometime. That would be fun!"
I remember my palms immediately going clammy, and Carter could instantly tell that something was wrong.
"Hey, are you okay?" Her palm found my back, and she began to move in circles.
"Well...I just-" I stumbled over my words like an idiot, finally clearing my throat when I felt like I had myself somewhat together. "How would you feel about considering it a date?"
Even though Carter had her sunglasses on, the lenses were pretty transparent, and I watched as her eyes went wide - her pink lips parting in surprise. I immediately had to look away from her, and I looked down at my hands as I nervously rubbed them together.
"Sorry...I'm sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes tight as if that was going to just make what I had asked disappear. "Forget it. We don't have to. I just ruined this whole fucking thing."
It was a few seconds later that I felt Carter's hand leave my back, and soon her palm was cradling one of my cheeks. She turned my face so I was looking at her - causing me to reluctantly open my eyes.
"It can be a date, Harry," she told me, and I instantly felt a knot form in my stomach. It wasn't out of anxiousness though, it was out of excitement. "I'm a little nervous given the past, but I'd like for it to be a date too."
When we separated that day, she let me give her a kiss on the cheek, and it made me tingle all over when I saw her face flush.
We haven't really spoken about our feelings at all, and we haven't discussed any expectations of each other either. I have a feeling that both of those things are bound to come up tonight. That's probably another reason why I'm so incredibly nervous.
My eyes glance over at the clock, and I see that it's now the time that I told her I would pick her up.
I suck in a deep breath as I get out of the car, my hands shaking as I keep a grip on the daffodils, and I head up to her door. Lifting my finger, I ring her doorbell before taking a small step back so that I'm not crowding her immediately.
The door opens after a moment, and once Carter's eyes connect with mine, a large smile takes over her features. "Hi, H," she says. She looks me over for a moment before looking back at my face. "You look so handsome."
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It's as if my breath was sucked from my lungs when she opened that door. The dress she has on fits her perfectly, and she has her hair slightly curled so that it bounces a bit as she moves. I couldn't help but internally laugh out in adoration when I saw she had all black Vans old skools platforms on her feet.
Some things never change.
"Wow, Carter," I breathe, shaking my head. "You look gorgeous."
Carter's face flushes just like it did the other day. "I'm in protest against heels at the moment, so I hope Vans are okay," she says before her eyes drop to the flowers in my hand.
"Oh!" I exclaim with a chuckle, extending them out to her. "These are for you. I was trying to figure out what flowers to get, but these seemed rather fitting."
"Hmm," she hums, giving me a playful grin. "I wonder why."
She peeks over her shoulder for a moment before looking back to me. "I'm just going to put these in some water and then we can go. I'd invite you in, but I know Ichabod's hair is going to cling to you if you come inside and he rubs on you."
"That's alright, take your time," I tell her with a nod.
She shuts the door, and it's only a minute or so later that she's stepping back out. A thin black cardigan is now on her arms, and she has a purse draped over her shoulder. She locks up her door before facing me. "Ready?"
"Ready," I say, placing my hand on her lower back as we make our way to my car.
I open the passenger door for her, which she thanks me for, and I make sure she's in securely before I shut her in. My hands continue to shake as I head over to the driver's side, and I get in before starting the car up.
I can see Carter looking over at me out of the corner of my eye, and she almost instantly reaches out to take one of my hands off the wheel.
"Why are you shaking so bad?" She holds my one hand in both of hers - lazily intertwining one set of her fingers with mine while the fingertips on the other trace over the back of my hand. "We don't have to go anymore if it's going to make you so nervous, Harry. I don't want you to be-"
"No," I shake my head quickly, squeezing my fingers around hers. "I mean, yes, I'm nervous, but I don't want to not do this because of that. I've just...I'm really bad about getting in my head these days, and I just overthink things. I've been overthinking all day."
Carter frowns, and she brings my hand up - pressing her lips against my knuckles. "If it helps at all, I'm really glad that we're doing this. I've been looking forward to it since you asked on Tuesday."
"Yeah?" I ask, feeling her confession ease my nerves some.
"Yeah," she nods, biting down on her bottom lip.
"I can never thank you enough for agreeing."
Carter's eyes wander over my face for a moment before settling back on my own. "I told you...I've missed you. It's been long enough that I'm okay to let myself be open with you again, and I'm sure we'll touch on that more later, but I just know I'm ready for this. Whatever this ends up being after we talk everything out. Okay?"
"Okay," I bring her hand up to my mouth just like she did to me earlier - mimicking her same actions.
I let my lips rest against her skin a little longer than she did mine before I lower our hands back down. I go to pull my hand away so that I can place both hands on the wheel, but Carter tightens her grip. "Can I keep holding it?"
My heart palpitates in the best way at her question, and I feel warmth in my face. "Yeah, of course."
"Okay, good," she giggles before dropping my hand into her lap.
I bite back a larger smile as I put my car in drive, and I start heading towards the restaurant where I had made us reservations for tonight.
Music plays quietly in the car as we make our way down the road, and Carter and I keep stealing glances at each other as we do so. Eventually she moves her other hand down to completely encompass the one she had already been holding once again, alternating between smoothing her fingertips over my knuckles, and then the back of my hand.
I haven't had contact like this from someone in so long, and it feels nice. The tenderness of her touches makes me feel wanted and comforted all at the same time - two feelings that Carter used to bring me previously before everything went to shit.
Our conversation on the way there was light, just asking how our work week went, and she was telling me about a large back piece she had just finished up on a client.
Once we arrive at the restaurant, I open the passenger side of the car for Carter. Instead of letting me just place my hand on her back, she takes my hand in hers - lacing our fingers together. I stroke my thumb along the back of her hand as we head inside, and I can see that Carter is a bit shocked at the place I've picked out.
"Harry," she says, looking up at me with worry. "This place is so nice, and I'm wearing Vans. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you wanted to wear Vans," I respond, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, they look cute on you, and if they want to say something about them, then I don't want to give them my business anyway."
Carter shakes her head briskly at me as we approach the host stand. "Two for Styles."
The host nods and grabs a couple of menus before we're guided to our table. I smile when I see they've remembered to set it up the way I wanted, with two candles lit in the middle, and two glasses of red wine already poured.
I can hear Carter gasp behind me, but she doesn't say anything yet as I pull her chair out for her to sit.
The host places the menus down as I sit as well, and I thank them before they walk away. I keep my eyes down on the menu that was placed in front of me, but I can feel Carter's on me.
"Harry," she speaks up after a moment, sweetness laced throughout her tone. "Did you have them do this for us?"
I nibble on my bottom lip before nodding. "Yeah, I did. I just wanted tonight to be special. For you...for us."
Carter reaches out across the table, curling her hand around mine. "Thank you so much. This was a nice surprise, and this restaurant is beautiful."
She gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away, and we begin to properly look over our menus.
"What are you thinking?" Carter asks, and I tilt my head to the side.
"I'm eying the pasta pescatore, how about you?"
"I think I'll do the lobster and mushroom risotto," I look up as she twirls a curl around her finger - lips pursed to the side.
I'm completely captivated by the way the candlelight hits her face, capturing her beauty in a way that has my stomach swirling.
After a moment, a waiter comes over with a couple of waters to accompany our wine, and he asks if we're ready to order.
"You first," I say, gesturing my hand towards, and Carter smiles.
We each order our food, and the waiter heads off as we grab our glasses of wine. I clear my throat, my other hand gripping to my knee as Carter's round eyes stare at me.
"This might seem silly, but I just wanted to say a couple of things," I chuckle nervously.
Carter gives me a reassuring nod before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.
"First off, I want to thank you again for saying 'yes' to dinner, and especially having it be a date. I'm really trying to be more straightforward with my feelings in general, but especially when it comes to you now that we've reconnected," I start off, my fingers curling tighter to my glass as I feel I could drop it at any moment. "I also wanted you to know that these past few weeks of getting to see you again have been the best weeks I've had in the past two years or so.
"Like you said before, I know there's still a lot that's left unsaid on both of our parts, but I really don't know what I would do if I lost you again, Carter. Losing you the first time completely changed me as a person, even though I didn't see it at the time. But with that being said, if you realize that this isn't going to work out, and this isn't what you want, then you walk away whenever you want. Put yourself first - always."
Carter blinks at me, and I can tell that I've caught her off guard with my words, but telling her that the ball was in her court when it came to us was something I needed her to know. I didn't want her to let the guilt of knowing I'd be upset to lose her again be the cause of her putting herself into something she didn't want.
"Wow, Harry," she opens and closes her mouth a couple times - clearly trying to figure out how to respond. "These few weeks have been really great for me too, and like I told you, I've missed you. I allowed for this to be a date just as much as you did, so I hope you don't feel like you forced me to label it as that.
As of right now, I'm more than happy with how things are going, but I can't lie to you and say that may change after we really talk things out. I don't think it will, but I just want you to know that's a possibility, okay?"
I move my head in agreement with her words. "Of course, Carter - of course."
I watch her shoulders deflate, as if she's let out a sigh of relief before we're both extending our glasses forward - clinking them together.
"To us," she speaks up first, a large smile back on her face.
"To us."
We each sip our wine, and she hums out in appreciation. "Oh my god, Harry," she licks over her bottom lip. "This wine is delicious."
"Yeah? I went over their selection online, and I tried to pick out what I remembered you liking."
"It's perfect. Thank you."
I watch as she looks around the restaurant a bit before looking back over to me. "Well, I guess now is as good of a time as any to start, huh?"
"If you're ready, then absolutely," I reassure her.
"I should probably start with me figuring things out about my mom and Gwen since that all ties in to how everything happened, especially with us," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. "One of the first things my therapist had me focus on was my emotions towards them, but most importantly their emotions towards me.
"She had me write down times throughout my life where my mom yelled at me, which wasn't often, but I came to the conclusion that she only ever did when it involved something with Gwen. Whether it be me trying to play with one of her toys, or if Gwen and I were fighting about her borrowing something of mine when Gwen knew that I would be needing it, my mother always took Gwen's side - even when she was clearly wrong."
Reaching forward, she takes a large sip of wine before she continues. "I also realized that my mom and Gwen have extremely jealous tendencies. So, when the wedding came around, it was such a big thing for Gwen, and the way they treated me just magnified. They wanted it to go perfectly for her, and they didn't want me to ruin it. That's when I became their pin cushion."
I grimace at her use of words, but I know she's not wrong.
"Also, I don't know if Gwen ever told you, but she caught me leaving the groom's suite that day," she places her hands on the table, and I can see they're slightly trembling. "She told me she knew of my feelings for you, that she always did, and she couldn't believe I told you on your wedding day of all days. That's when she said she never wanted to see me again, and for me to stay away from you both. I listened to her because I knew you loved her, and I knew she made you happy, and I didn't want to take that away from you."
My heart aches at her words. Gwen never told me she had seen her after her confession to me. I didn't know that she ever knew that Carter had feelings for me.
"She didn't tell me," I whispered, shaking my head.
"I also need to apologize to you, Harry. I need to tell you sorry for never telling you my feelings sooner, and I also need to tell you I'm sorry for when I chose to tell you about them," I can see tears are now gathering in Carter's eyes, and she takes a minute to collect herself before she's blinking them away.
"I never wanted to tell you about my feelings because I didn't want to ruin what we had, but it seems that's exactly what I did because I waited so long. Maybe if I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would've ever happened, and I-"
"Carter, I'm going to stop you right there," I butt in, not being able to listen to her blaming herself in this way. "Do not apologize to me for that. I won't let you blame yourself for what happened. There's only one person to blame for our friendship falling apart, and that's me."
Carter keeps quiet as I continue. "I should've never let Gwen keep me from you like she did, and I should've never let her treat you the way she did. Things would've been different if I had put my foot down. If I had refused to let her wedge her way between us, but I didn't do that.
"She fed me lies our entire relationship when it came to you. She knew I liked you, she revealed that to me during our divorce process. Whenever you were out of the house hanging out with Kieran, she told me you were seeing different guys, and I don't know why I believed her. Then she started dropping hints that she liked me. One thing led to another, and it just happened. The last thing she really lied to me about was her trying to contact you after the wedding. She led me to believe that she was trying just as hard as I was to reach you, and in our last big fight, I found out that wasn't the case."
Now I'm the one reaching for my glass of wine, taking two large sips. "I realized in therapy that I never truly lost my feelings for you, Carter. I just shoved them down, and I suppressed them once I started having feelings for Gwen. I convinced myself that they were gone because how could I love two people at once? But, my love for you was never like my love for Gwen. The love I had for you..."
I swallow harshly before I look down at my lap, shaking my head. It's only a second later that I feel the tips of Carter's fingers brushing over my knuckles.
"Tell me, please."
Looking back up, I meet her eyes, and I can tell she's pleading with me to be honest. It was hard to act like I was talking about the past. My love for has only grown more since being around her again.
"It was everything. Even if I didn't think it was reciprocated, and even though I didn't even tell you about it."
Carter opens her mouth to speak, but we're interrupted by the waiter setting out dishes down in front of us. We each thank him, placing our napkins into our laps as we grab our silverware.
"Let's just enjoy our meals for now," I reach out to grab her hand, and I kiss the back of it quickly. "And if we want to talk more later, we can."
"Okay," Carter breathes, and we both begin to dig into our food.
The rest of our time at the restaurant consists of us talking about much lighter topics while stealing bites of each other's food.
Now we're sitting outside of her house in my car, my hand placed on the inside of Carter's knee as she twists my rings around my fingers.
"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about before I head in?" Carter rests her head back against the headrest, looking over at me.
I know that what I'm about to bring up is serious, but it's something that's eaten away at me for too long.
"I didn't want to ask in the restaurant, and you can decline to answer if it's too personal, but it's something that's been weighing on me. Did...did Gwen ever get physical with you when you guys would argue?"
I'm hesitant to look at her, but I'm met with narrowed brows on her face. "I mean, we used to wrestle as little kids, but when we got older, no," she shakes her head. "Why? Did she get physical with you?"
I stay silent as I look down to stare at my steering wheel, and I can hear Carter inhale sharply when I don't answer after a moment.
It's not even a second later that I feel her arms around me, and she's pulling my face into her neck. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I feel tears welling in my eyes as I lift a hand to wrap around her wrist. I feel her nails scraping against my scalp to comfort me as her other hand caresses my back.
"You didn't deserve that. You'll never deserve that."
We stay in the same position for a while as she continues to comfort me silently before she speaks again. "You know that right? That you didn't deserve that?"
I nod, sniffling as I lift my hand up - pushing the tears off my cheeks with the heel of my palm as I sit back. "I know. I know I didn't deserve it."
"Good," Carter says softly, and I can see the worry behind her eyes as she stares at me.
Biting down on her bottom lip, she grabs her purse that was on the floorboard, and she shuffles through it. She looks back over to me, and that's when I see she has another postcard in her hand. "I had two of these in my bag tonight. I figured this whole thing could've gone one way or the other. "
She extends the card out to me, and I take it from her. I look down to see a line illustration of a butterfly on the front. I know that she did this on purpose because we each have butterfly tattoos, and it has me feeling hopeful.
"Will this quote tell me which way it went?" I ask her with a soft chuckle, and it causes her to giggle as well while she shrugs.
"Flip it over and find out."
Taking in a deep breath, I flip the postcard over, and I read over the quote a few times to really take it in.
"Rewinding time is not possible, but "do-over's" are. Sometimes we get another chance to do something right the second time that we got wrong the first time." - UNKNOWN
I look back over to her after a moment, and her expression is one filled with such kindness that I feel like I could cry again. "In case that wasn't enough to tell you...would you like to come in?"
My eyebrows raise, as I'm a bit shocked that she was asking me to do so, but I didn't give her any time to think that I was hesitating. "Yeah, yes, please," I laugh nervously, and she tilts her head.
"Come on then."
We both get out of the car, and we head up to the door which she unlocks. As we walk inside, she flips on some lights, and I instantly hear small thumps coming from her hallway while we take off our shoes.
"Hello, Mr. Crane," Carter coos as she lowers herself down to pet the petite black cat that's come to greet her. "This is Ichabod."
The image in front of me has my heart completely bursting from how sweet it is, and I follow Carter's actions - bending down to be closer to them both. "Hello Ichabod, I'm Harry."
I hold my hand out, and Ichabod sniffs it for a bit before rubbing back across the front of Carter's legs for a while, but he keeps his eyes on me.
"He's really nice, I promise," Carter says as she continues to rub over his back, and eventually Ichabod makes his way over to me.
I begin to scratch underneath his chin, and behind his ears as Carter stands.
"Do you want some more wine?"
Glancing over, I watch as she walks into her kitchen - loose red curls bouncing as she goes.
"Yeah, I'll have another glass," I tell her, giving Ichabod a few more pets before standing up myself. "Just one is probably good though considering I have to drive."
"What do you think I'm trying to do? Get you drunk so you have to stay over?" Carter looks at me over her shoulder with a shiteating smirk, and I shake my head at her. Knowing that the atmosphere around us has turned playful, I decide to feed into it as well.
"I don't know," I shrug before crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against one of her counters. "Are you?"
Carter hums as she turns back around to grab a bottle of wine out of her wine fridge, and then she walks over to the cabinet housing her wine glasses. "I mean, would you staying be the absolute worst thing in the world?"
My adrenaline perks up slightly at her words, and I quickly clear my throat. "No, I-I don't think that, I just didn't know-"
"Harry," Carter walks over to the counter next to the one I was leaning against - setting the glasses down. "I was just kidding. You didn't think I was that easy, did you?"
Groaning, I look up to the ceiling as I smile.
She's really busting my balls here.
"I'm not used to being one step ahead of you when it comes to picking on each other," she bumps her hip against mine to have me looking down at her again. "I guess I'm making up for all those years you had me blushing like an idiot."
"Yeah, now that's me," I laugh, leaning down to pinch at her waist - causing her to yelp.
Carter eventually uncorks the bottle, and she pours us each a glass of wine as we move over to sit on the couch. Ichabod makes his way over to the cat tree in the corner of the living room, and he makes his way to the top tier - quickly curling into himself and falling asleep.
"He's so cute," I compliment her. "How old is he?"
"Just a little over a year old," she says, looking over to the cat tree for a moment before looking over to me. "I actually found him outside of the shop I was working at while I was gone."
"You're kidding."
Carter shakes her head, swallowing down her sip of wine before continuing. "It was early spring, and it was raining so bad outside. It was chilly, and windy on top of that. I was closing up the shop, and I went around back to throw the trash into the dumpster before getting in my car, and I could hear him crying underneath it after I threw the bag inside.
"I pulled my phone out so I could use my flashlight, and I looked under, and there he was. He was by himself, and shaking, and I knew I couldn't leave him. To be honest, I didn't think I'd have the time to take on a kitten, so I had every intention of keeping him for a few days to get him better before taking him to the shelter. As you can see, I got way too attached and that didn't happen. It worked out for the both of us though. I don't know what I would do without him. He's my little buddy."
"You know it's funny, I had been contemplating getting a cat myself before I ran into you," I tell her. "Now you've kind of convinced me that I need one. The house is so quiet by myself."
"I definitely get what you mean. I've lived alone since I first moved away, and now I couldn't imagine not hearing his little paws on the floors, or hearing him eating his food in the kitchen while I'm sketching at my dining table. You should get one, H," she says, tapping her foot against my thigh. "They're a lot of fun."
"Yeah, I think I might," I say, dropping my hand to wrap it around her foot, running the pad of my thumb over the arch of it. "Would you come to the shelter with me?"
"Of course! I'd love to. Plus, I think I should have a say considering they're going to be around Mr. Crane. I need to make sure they're a suitable candidate for his friendship," she smirks, taking another sip of wine.
"That's fair enough."
It's quiet for a moment before she makes a small noise as she swallows her sip - as if she's remembered something. "Hold on, I'll be right back."
Carter sets her wine glass down on the table, and she slips down the hallway for a moment. I can't help but smile to myself as she's gone - not believing that I'm in her home with her right now, us sharing wine together and talking as if nothing has changed.
This is all I've wanted for so long.
I hear her coming back after a minute or so, and she sits down while passing me a piece of paper. As I study the piece of paper, I see she picks her wine glass back up, and she moves to drape her legs over my lap like she did in the park the other day.
"I drew that while I was in therapy," she said, tapping her fingertips against her glass. "She told me to draw something that provided me comfort in the past, and I came up with this. While I was drawing it, I was thinking of how you used to always hold my hand when we were out with friends if you could tell I wasn't having a good time, or if something was making me anxious. I've been meaning to bring it to show you when we've been hanging out, I just kept forgetting."
My eyes study the drawing, and I wait to ask what immediately comes to mind. "Do you think you could tattoo this on me?"
Carter's eyes look like they're about to bulge out of her head once I look back to her. "What?"
"I really like it, and you drew it perfectly. It reminds me of us too," I nod. "I'd really like for you to tattoo it on me, if you're comfortable with that."
"Harry, you know I'm always more than happy to ink you up. I'm just a little shocked - that's all. I'm more than comfortable with you getting it."
"Maybe in a couple months? I'm thinking on the back of my arm," I tilt my head to the side as I continue to stare at the drawing of two hands holding.
"I think that will look really good, H."
I only intended on staying at Carter's for maybe an hour at the most, but as she indulged in another glass of wine, I decided to stay so she could tell me all about the city she had been living in before moving back home. It was interesting to hear about the life she had without me in it, and I was actually able to listen to her talk about it without feeling a sadness in my chest.
I have her back now, and that's what matters.
Looking over to the clock, I can see it's nearing midnight, and I know it's time to go home.
"Well, I should probably get going," I sigh as I finish up my glass of wine. Only having the one glass at dinner, and then the two glasses here, I was more than fine to drive - especially with pasta sitting in my stomach.
"Oh, only if you're sure," Carter says, setting her almost finished wine down on the coffee table as I stand up. "You're not keeping me up or anything."
"I know, but I don't want to overstay my welcome," I chuckle, walking to set my empty wine glass in the sink in her kitchen.
When I walk back over Ichabod hops off his cat tree and follows me towards the door, circling my feet as he looks up at me.
"I think somebody doesn't want you to leave," Carter giggles as she walks closer to me, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.
"I'm sure I'll see you again soon, bud," I kneel down to give Ichabod a few head scratches before I stand up and look over at Carter. "Do you think that we could do this again?"
"Harry," Carter closes all space between us as she drops her hands to the side. "Have I not made it obvious enough that I more than enjoyed myself tonight? I would absolutely love to do this again."
I let out a small laugh of relief, scratching the back of my neck for a moment while looking down at my feet. Pursing my lips to the side, I look back up at Carter. "Can I kiss you?"
I can tell my request takes Carter by surprise, and I immediately feel like an idiot. "Shit, I'm sorry," I apologize. "I didn't mean to be so forward. You just look so beautiful, and I had such a good time that I thought maybe-"
I'm cut off when I feel Carter's hands cupping my cheeks as she pushes herself on her tiptoes, her taking the complete initiative to have her lips meet mine.
After a moment, I hum in satisfaction, and I drop my arms to wrap them around her. One of them wraps around her waist, while the other curls to the middle of her torso - my hand pressing against her shoulder blades to keep her flush against me. Carter is much shorter than me, and I can tell she's struggling to stay on her toes, so I gently lift her off the floor just a bit using the strength in my arm around her waist - causing her to squeal against my lips.
"Stay," Carter whispers, as she pulls away, her eyes dancing over my face. "Please stay."
My mouth runs dry when I realize exactly what she's saying, and I don't hesitate to give her a nod. "Okay, I'll stay."
Carter smiles, and I reach down to have both arms around her waist before I'm pulling her up higher. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her legs around my hips, as she leans down to reconnect our lips. "Bedroom is at the end of the hall," she mumbles against them.
I follow her orders, carrying her with ease down the hallway until we're in her room. After a few more moments of letting our lips mold against one another, I lower her down so that she's standing in front of me again.
"Are you sure?" I ask.
"I'm sure," Carter says as she takes a step back, peeling her cardigan off her shoulders. "Take your clothes off."
My cock twitches in my pants at her words, and it takes a minute for my body to catch up with my mind. I pull my vest off and toss it to the side before I start to undo the buttons of my dress shirt. I watch as she reaches up to undo the ribbon tied at the top of her dress, pulling it so that it loosens, and she's able to slip her arms out of the material. She pauses for a minute with her hand pressed against her chest to still keep her dress up, watching me with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
I shrug my shirt off before I reach down to my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them - leaving me in just my briefs.
Carter drops her dress, and my breath catches in the back of my throat when I see that her top is completely bare - only a black lace long left on her body. "This...this isn't weird for you, is it?"
I shake my head as I walk forward, my eyes shamelessly roaming over her. I'm taking her all in, as if she could disappear, or like I could wake at any moment - like this was all a dream.
"It's not weird at all," I tell her honestly, and Carter reaches out to wrap her hands around my wrists.
Her head tilts to the side as she moves me around until my hands are on her full breasts, and I sigh as I run the pads of my thumbs over her pebbled nipples. She gasps while throwing her head back - her eyes slipping shut.
Hearing that sound leave her, and seeing that just the smallest touch was bringing her such pleasure, it's like something in me snaps. I walk forward to where she's back against her dresser, and her eyes shoot open.
Carter watches me as I begin to lower myself down her body, pressing kisses to her neck and over her sternum. Once I reach her breasts, I rest the undersides of them in my palms before closing my lips around one of her nipples. She lets out a breathy moan, but we don't sever eye contact. Her hands wrap around the edge of her dresser, her elbows slightly pointed up to her ceiling as I pay the same amount of attention to her other nipple.
"Harry," my name leaving her mouth has me humming against her skin, and she rolls her head on her shoulders for just a moment before her eyes are right back on mine.
Abandoning her chest, I slip all the way down so I'm kneeling in front of her as I kiss over her stomach - hooking my fingers into the sides of her thong. I still hold her eyes, silently asking for permission, and she gives me a nod. I continue to sponge kisses down her body, all while pulling her underwear down at the same time. She's squirming underneath me, and I can tell she's aching for more now.
Once her underwear hit the floor, Carter lifts one leg to step out, but when she lifts the other, I quickly wrap my hand around her ankle - throwing her leg over my shoulder as I toss her underwear to the side.
"Can I taste you, Carter?" I ask, my eyes slipping shut for the first time since I've had my hands on her - the smell of her arousal filling my nose while I latch my lips to the inside of her thigh.
"Please," she whines, and my mouth finds its way between her legs before I can even process. “Oh, god."
One of Carter's hands leaves the dresser to make its home on the back of my head as she arches into me. My tongue is immediately met with her wetness, and I groan at just how much had accrued in such a short amount of time. I lick my way back up until I'm sucking her clit between my lips, and I open my eyes to look up at her.
Her head is back as she pants into the air, her face displaying absolute pleasure as I lift my hand to massage her thigh that's resting beside my head. My touch alerts her, and she looks down at me with pink cheeks.
"Good. 'S so good," she moans deliriously before she tilts her head to the side to rest her cheek on her shoulder - eyes slipping shut again.
I move back down to lap at her dripping entrance before I plunge my tongue inside - teeth scraping over her swollen clit. A strangled, but loud "uh" leaves her as she now curls forward, and the hand on the back of my head is pushing me even further into her core while her other hand drops to grip at my shoulder not cradling her thigh.
Everything about this is causing me to leak profusely into my briefs, and I know that I'm the hardest I've been in a long time. I creep my hand up from her thigh to grip one of the rounds of her ass - feeling her skin pushing through the gaps between my fingers.
"Wait, w-wait," I hear Carter gasp, and I pull away immediately. She sees the look of worry on my face, causing her to laugh breathlessly. "You didn't do anything wrong, don't worry. I just want to make you come twice."
I close my eyes and drop a hand to my briefs to apply pressure to my throbbing bulge at her words - willing away the urge to come right then. After a moment, I feel her slip her leg off my shoulder, pulling my cheek to rest against her stomach as she runs her fingers through the top of my hair.
"Can I do that for you, Harry? Can I have you come in my mouth, and then while you recuperate, you can make me come?" She slides one hand down my back - nails grazing against my skin. "And then when I come, I'll need you inside me, and I hope you'll be hard again. I want you so bad."
I turn my face to kiss along her stomach much like I did before. I'm riddled speechless by her want for me. It had been so long since anyone had talked about me in such a way, and it was causing me to feel so many different emotions.
"Please, baby," Carter whispers, and I slowly feel her lowering her body. I blink my eyes open to see her kneeling in front of me - moving her hands to cradle my face. "Let me make you feel good."
The pet name she uses ignites a fire in me, and I wrap my arms around her to pull her forward - having her thighs straddle one of my own as I press my lips against hers. Her thumbs swipe over my cheek as we kiss, and I tangle one of my hands into the back of her hair. Our lips part to have our tongues rolling against one another which causes goosebumps to coat my skin. We make our way off the ground, but we don't let our lips disconnect as she lays me down on the bed.
My hands wander all over her body as our tongues ebb and flow, and I give her plush hips a squeeze before she's pulling away from me. She runs her lips down my body, and just like I did earlier to her, she starts pulling on the waistband of my briefs.
"Lift your hips," she tells me, and I blindly obey.
Once my briefs are down to the tops of my thighs, my prick springs out and slaps against my stomach - smearing precome onto my skin.
"Shit," Carter's mouth gapes as she stares at me, and I feel myself twitch under her gaze.
She makes quick work of getting my briefs the rest of the way down before pushing herself between my legs. She's knelt down, back arched to have her plump ass in the air - right in my line of vision.
"Fuck, Carter," I whisper, feeling myself leaking even more at the sight. "You're so sexy. I don't think I've ever been this hard."
Carter licks over her bottom lip as she wraps her hand around my dripping cock, her other hand snaking up my chest to rest over one of my pecs - her palm grazing over my taut nipple. She works the hand on my prick up to gather my precome onto her hand before she slicks it down my length. Beginning to pump me, she nuzzles her nose into the trimmed hairs framing my base.
"I can't tell you how long I've wanted this," she tells me, planting kisses all around me.
I try to keep my eyes on her for as long as possible, but the pleasure is overwhelming. If she didn't get her mouth on me in the next few seconds, I was going to end up coming all over my stomach and her hand.
"I can't believe you're even more toned than before," she plants a kiss against my balls, causing my stomach to clench. "So pretty. Everything about you is pretty. You have a pretty face, a pretty body, and a pretty cock."
Her words have me moaning as my toes curl into the fabric of her comforter. I never once would've guessed that Carter was so vocal in the bedroom, and it's causing my head to spin. She was a true vision, and I found myself so lucky to be underneath her at this very moment.
I can't help but slip my eyes shut once her mouth is on my tip, and she lowers herself halfway down my shaft before pulling back up. I find myself biting down on the insides of my cheeks as she kitten licks at my slit - resulting in more precome pouring out of me.
"Carter," I gasp, one hand gripping to the pillow case my head was resting on while the other reached out to wrap her hair around my palm. "I'm not going to last very long right now."
She kisses my tip before I feel her nudge the side of her nose against it. "That's okay. This is about you right now. If you come in five seconds, I don't care."
Carter's mouth closes against me once again, and this time she lowers herself almost all the way down. I feel the tip of her nose against my happy trail as she zig zags her tongue along the underside of my shaft, and I can feel the ball of her tongue piercing pressing against every vein in her wake.
She bobs her head up and down before she presses all the way down, and I feel her swallow around me.
"Fuck," I choke on a moan, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I try to make this last as long as possible. "You're so fucking good at this."
Carter hums in response, causing a vibration up my shaft which has my abs jumping. I now feel my orgasm truly building in my lower abdomen. She pulls up to where just my tip is in her mouth, and I flutter my eyes open to see her looking at me - wiggling her ass in the air. She keeps me stable with one hand, and she parts her lips to show me that my tip is just resting against her tongue.
She shakes her head from side to side for a moment before she focuses on rolling the ball of her piercing over the prominent vein right underneath my tip again and again.
"I'm gonna come," I strangle out, my hand tightening in her hair. "I can't hold it."
Carter holds my eyes as she closes her mouth around me again, and she uses the hand that was holding me in place to start pumping me once more. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I feel myself releasing onto her tongue, groaning out as I buck my hips up subconsciously. It causes a small squeal to leave her, and if I was in the right stand of mind I'd immediately be apologizing, but my brain has gone completely fuzzy. She guides me through my orgasm fully, and I wince in sensitivity as I feel how tight she has her lips against me to make sure none spills out.
My eyes blink open just in time to see her popping off me entirely, and I watch as she swallows - the smallest bit of my come seeping from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darts out to collect it while she begins to rub her hands up and down the tops of my thighs.
"You okay?" She asks, moving her way up my body so that she's hovering over me.
"I'm more than okay," I laugh, causing one to leave Carter as well. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck. "Come here."
I pull her down to meet my mouth again, and I hum as I taste myself on her tongue. As we kiss, I turn us over to where she's now underneath me. She hikes one of her knees up against my hip while resting her hands on the sides of my neck. Using one hand to hold up the crease of her leg, I dance my other one down between her legs.
I cup her cunt in my hand and give it a squeeze, causing her to gasp against my mouth. Smirking softly, I curl my middle and ring fingers to slip the tips of them through her drenched slit, and I'm almost certain I could already get hard again when she immediately coats my fingers in her arousal.
"You got so wet, Carter," I lick at her top lip before bumping the tip of my nose against hers. "Did getting me off turn you on that much?"
She nods, her hands beginning to roam all over my torso. "Sexiest thing I've ever seen was your face when you came just now."
"You're giving me an ego," I tell her, nipping my teeth against her jawline.
"You deserve to have one," she breathes as I feel her nails digging into my skin.
Swirling my fingertips around her entrance, I let her get accustomed to the feeling before I'm easily gliding them inside of her due to how open she already is for me. She mewls while automatically lifting her hips to meet my fingers, and I help satisfy her even more by tapping against her spongy spot.
"Yes," she whines, her chest now flush against mine - hard nipples grazing my skin. "Please, Harry, don't stop."
"I'm not going to, baby," I assure her, sucking on the junction where her neck and shoulder meet. "Not stopping until your come is covering my fingers, understood?"
"Mhmm," she lets out a high pitched hum as I begin to thrust my fingers in and out of her, making sure to continue curling them every now and again. "I understand."
Carter's heavy breathing fills the room once more as writhes underneath me. I can feel her clenching around me in what seems like intervals, and I know she's probably just as close as I was once she got her mouth on me.
"God, I can't believe I get to have you like this right now," I tell her, testing the waters to see if talking turns her on like it does for me. "Never thought this would be a reality for me. I thought I fucked up so bad that you'd never speak to me again, and now I've got you naked and open for me. I'm the luckiest man in the whole world to be here with you."
She cries out as I drop my hand from her leg to slip between our chests so I can roll one of her nipples between my index finger and my thumb. I can see a sheen of sweat forming on her hairline, and I slip a third finger into her to try to get her to her climax faster - not wanting her to feel like I was teasing too much.
"Harry," she whimpers, opening her eyes to look up at me.
"You're right there, hm?" I ask, tilting my head to the side, and I watch as he nods in response to me. "Come on, flower. Let go for me."
The old nickname I used to call her seems to be what sends her over the edge.
Carter's head tilts slightly back, and I watch as her lips part. A lewd moan starts to escape her as I feel her completely clamp down on my fingers, but I don't take my eyes off her face. She keeps her eyes on me as she comes, her orgasm coating me just like I asked as I continue to ride her through it. She wiggles her hips, as if she's trying to move away from, and that's when I remove my fingers - knowing that she's coming back down.
Her eyes watch my every move as I bring my fingers up to my mouth, sealing my lips around them as I suck them clean. I close my eyes once I have her taste on my tongue again, swallowing down a moan so I don't look absolutely pathetic.
I open my eyes to look down at Carter, and I see her smiling up at me. "Thank you," her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath. "That felt so good."
Looking down at the same time, we both see that my cock is about half hard, but I know it won't take much longer for me to get fully there when I know where this is going next. I lower myself down to kiss her body like I had before, and I take the time to really examine her skin.
"You got a lot of new tattoos," I say, giving one of her breasts a small squeeze.
"Mhmm," she hums, wrapping one hand around my forearm that was connected to the hand on her chest - rubbing her palm up and down my skin. "A pretty good amount, I'd say."
Lowering myself down onto her, I begin to press my lips over the ones that I know I haven't seen, whispering 'new' as I do so. It causes Carter to giggle as I locate each one, and she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches me closely, but her smile still shines through.
"I have another," she tells me, tapping me to lift up a bit before she flips over onto her stomach.
I look down and see ink right under the crease between one of her ass cheeks and her thigh. "Also new."
Smirking, I lean down to press my lips against that one as well as she looks at me over her shoulder. I trail my lips up just slightly, biting down playfully on her ass cheek - causing a laughter filled squeal to leave her, and I feel her lightly kicking her feet.
I lift up onto my knees, grasping her hips to flip her over once more, and I feel that I've grown fully hard again.
"You're really sure, Carter?" I ask her, and she nods.
"I've never been so sure about something before. I want you, Harry. Fuck, I need you. I think I'll cry if you're not in me in the next few minutes."
That causes me to chuckle softly. "I'm going to put on some music, is that okay?"
"Yeah, of course."
I stand up from the bed and grab my phone that's in my pants pocket. Flipping through my apps, I locate Spotify and quickly search the song I had in mind. Once I find it, I place my phone on her nightstand before crawling back over her. The intro starts, and my eyes wander over Carter's face before the vocals kick in.
"I get so lost, sometimes. Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart. When I want to run away I drive off in my car, but whichever way I go I come back to the place you are."
"Harry," she whispers as she trails her fingertips down my biceps, and I see tears filling her eyes.
"Don't cry, please," I lean down to press a kiss against each of her cheeks. "It's how I've pictured this moment for so long."
"You mean to this song?"
"To this song," I nod, reaching down to massage her hips in each of my hands. "This is how I felt about you then, and I haven't been completely honest with you because...this is also how I feel about you now too. I meant what I said earlier. You mean everything to me, Carter Adams."
"How are you going to tell me not to cry, and then say something like that?" Carter laughs, but I can hear the tears filling it.
"Sorry, I just needed to let you know," I lean down to press my lips gently against hers before pulling back just slightly. "Do you have a condom?"
"I do, but...are you okay if we don't use one? I have an IUD, and I'm clean. I got checked after my break up, and I haven't been with anyone since," she cradles my jaw in her palms, the pad of her thumb brushing over my lips. "I just really want to feel you."
"I'm clean as well," I nod, running my hands down from her hips to the outside of her thighs to pull her knees up against me once more. "I'd really like to feel you completely too, Carter."
Reaching out, I grab a pillow from the other side of the bed that she wasn't lying on, and I slip it underneath her hips to have her angled up slightly. "Good?"
"Good," she responds, and I can tell that we're both a bit nervous now that we know this is actually going to happen.
With one hand cupping her waist, I wrap my other hand around my length to guide myself to her. I allow my tip to run through her folds to collect her arousal for a moment before I'm pushing inside. My jaw goes slack, and I choke on a groan when I feel just how tight she is around me with me barely being inside.
"Oh," she moans, grasping to the creases of my arms.
I look up from where we're connected to check on Carter, and she gives me a nod - telling me silently to keep going. I'm slow as I continue to push forward, and once I'm completely inside, I hear a flooded whine leave her.
"H-Harry," she says, and she's immediately demanding my attention when I hear how much emotion is behind my name. "I love you."
Those three words that I never thought I'd hear her say to me again, at least not in context, have me crumbling.
My bottom lip trembles as I cup her cheek in my hand. "I love you too, Carter. I love you so much."
Leaning down, I connect our lips in a passionate kiss, neither of us caring as we feel our tears smearing over each other's cheeks. We stay still for a while, hands caressing each other's bodies while our tongues melt together. It was incredible how perfectly we fit together, and my heart was pounding against my chest due to the intimacy that was surrounding us in every way imaginable.
Our mouths separate with a large 'smack' bouncing off the walls, and smiles are immediately pulling at the corners of our lips.
"I'm gonna start moving, okay?"
"Okay," Carter gives my arms a squeeze, and I draw my hips back halfway before allowing myself to fill her to the brim again.
She sighs out, leaning her head to the side to press her lips against my heart tattoo. My eyes catch hers, and she sends me another soft smile. "New," she mumbles against my skin.
That small gesture has a knot forming in my throat again, but I power through. The only thing I want right now is to give her even more pleasure than I did before. I want to show her how much I love her now, and how much I loved her even before.
After a few more moments of letting her adjust, I begin to fall into a rhythm of plunging my slick cock in and out of her weeping cunt. Carter's walls flutter around me every time I'm fully sheathed back inside, and I look down to see her clit all puffy and inviting. I push one of her legs down onto the bed, and then drape the knee of her other leg over the crease of my arm. Moving onto my knees just a bit more, I begin to thrust at a new angle, and her muscles clamp down the hardest they have.
"That it, baby?" I ask, dropping my free hand to rub the pad of my thumb against her clit. I can feel it pulsing, and I know that she's close to another orgasm already.
"Jesus Christ, Harry," she groans, nails digging into my skin as I keep up my pace. "Splitting me open."
Her words have my prick twitching inside of her, and I know that I'm not going to be able to hold out as long as I want to.
I'll just have to make a promise to make it up to her in the morning.
"Yeah? Got you feeling full?"
"So full," Carter shakes her head from side to side, and her eyes are droopy. I can tell she's trying her hardest to keep them open, and on me.
"You feel so good around me, flower," I compliment, licking over my bottom lip. "Prettiest, and sweetest little pussy squeezing me. Can't get enough can you, hm?"
I watch as her body trembles underneath me, and she opens her mouth to say something, but I feel her walls tightening. Looking down, I can see her second orgasm coating my length, and that causes me to start slipping in and out of her even easier than before.
"That's a good girl," I lean down to press my lips to the corner of hers. "You're 's good for me, Carter."
Carter clutches to me, and I allow her to lift her knees to my hips again so that I can be closer to her. I pant against the side of her neck as my feel my own orgasm festering at the bottom of my spine.
"Where do you want me to come?" I ask, and she's quick to press her heels against the small of my back - forcing me to barely move in and out of her now.
"Inside, please," she begs me, and that's all it takes for me to find my second release.
I can't help but bite down on her shoulder as I pump everything I have inside of her sensitive cunt, and I hear her letting out small mewls and whimpers each time I thrust back in. Once I know she's taken everything from me, I collapse on top of her, but I'm mindful not to bare all my weight.
We cling to each other, sharing small kisses and caresses as we come down from our highs. When I finally find the strength, I push myself up onto one of my palms, my other hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Carter's ear.
"I love you," I tell her, and she smiles up at me - corners of her eyes squinting.
"I love you too."
As I hover over the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, I wonder how I could have ever been so stupid to let her slip away the first time, but I have to remind myself that's in the past. Tonight truly marks the new beginning of this relationship, and I know that it'll bring us both nothing but happiness.
I look at her, and I see not only my future, but also my soulmate. Regardless of what happened before, I know one thing is absolutely true - Carter Adams has always been the love of my life.
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