#.... They don't even exist outside of the movies they play in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 2 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve likes you, eddie munson's best friend, to the point of heart palpitations. you feel the same way about him [6k]

warnings fluff, getting together, mutual pining, first kiss, first date, eddie munson is a good friend, steve is hopeless, fem!reader, reader is hellfire club adjacent, reader is an overthinker and steve is a softie, pre-s4 post-s3, no s4 spoilers besides eddie + hellfire club existing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The first time Steve sees you he's smitten.

You're sitting on the stoop of Eddie Munson's trailer. Coolest girl he's ever seen – and Steve doesn't go for the edgy type. Crazy cool clothes, hair all messy pretty and your eyes edged in dark makeup, you're fiddling with the cassette player in your lap, brows pinched in frustration.

Steve can't look long. He's dropping the lunch club off for some impromptu Hellfire gathering. The kids pile out, eager to see their new (no, Steve isn't bitter) friend with a chorus of rushed, half-hearted thank you's.

You push the headphones off of your ears as his kids approach.

"Hey, Y/N," they say, one by one as they enter the trailer and disappear from sight.

Steve is two seconds from leaving, swears, when he hears Lucas ask how you are.

"You know," you say, voice quiet and immediately intoxicating. Steve watches as you slowly push two fingers between your shiny lips and pretend to blow your brains out. You drop on your back and lie there for a moment, chest rising with easy, breezy laughter. The sound draws heat to his cheeks, worse the sight of your naked thighs.

He's hooked. He has to leave quickly, before you sit back up and indoctrinate him with your looks alone.

The next time he sees you is similar and not. You're sitting on the ground outside the movie theatre. Again, Steve is playing taxi cab for his doofuses, though this time the thank you's are slightly kinder, louder - he'd blown off a girl he didn't stand much chance with in the first place to bring them.

"Love you!" Dustin calls, slamming the passenger door.

You drop the cassette player in your hands and lean your head back against Eddie's thigh. Steve takes a few seconds to realise you're looking at him, head tilting this way and that to catch a glance at him through people's legs.

"Who's your friend?" he hears you ask Mike.

Mike doesn't even look. "Who? Steve? He's my sister's ex-boyfriend."

You smile at him. Steve, hating to be caught but not stupid enough to blush, nods at you through the window before turning the key. It's the suavest thing he's ever done and he's still applauding himself when you approach his window. He hadn't noticed you get up, distracted by triumph.

You knock the window. He rolls it down.

"Hi," you say.

"Hey," he says back. Then, cautiously, "You need something?"

You smell like a lot of things as you duck your head into his car. Mica and perfume and, softer, talc. Hairspray. Something else, wet like ink. He can't help looking at your make up, the rhinestones under your lower lashes, the shiny sticky pink on your lips.

"Steve," you say. He likes the way you say his name, confident, like you've always known it. You smile softly, at ends with your Joan Jett-esque levels of cool. "Do you wanna come see the movie?" Then, in what marks the beginning of the end, "With me?"

He knows he should play it out. Plus, he's startled. "I don't know, I'm just here to drop them off."

"It's okay if you have plans," you say. He catches a sneak of your tongue pressed behind - what he perhaps insanely thinks of as - cute teeth. You're talking to him in this lilting cadence that has him pinned. "But you drove all the way here, so if you're not busy…"

He pretends to consider.

"What movie?" he asks.

You bring a hand to your neck and secure a small silver pendant between your neatly lacquered nails. "Uh, it's called Day of the Dead. S'about zombies," you tell him. The way you say zombies - your voice goes high and airy, your lips move slow like they're catching up to the word, your eyebrows raised up. Eyes wide. He wants to play it back.

"Please?" you ask when he fails to reply.

He thinks he has to be dreaming. Or drugged again. Definitely drugged.

"Sure," he hears himself say, though he can't remember thinking about it.

You don't smile like he expects. You make a sound, a happy inhale, your eyes light up but your lips stay straight.

Steve thinks you might be nervous.

And sure, he can be a jerk but he's not a total douchebag. He gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and gets out of his car, locking the doors to follow you to the ticket stand. Closer now, Steve can't work you out: half dreamy, half fidgeting.

Your boots thud up carpeted stairs into the auditorium, the lights already down, previews blaring.

There's two empty seats next to Eddie. In the dark you catch the hem of his jacket between your fingers and pull him behind you.

His heart skips.

Eddie, in what Steve thinks of as his most mature greeting to date, nods at him and then turns to you curiously. "You okay?" he asks seriously.

"I'm perfect, Eds. Did we miss any good previews?" you ask, sitting heavily beside your friend and stealing a big handful of popcorn out of his lap.

Eddie only chuckles. "Nothing you'd like."

You nod and then turn to Steve shyly. "Sorry we didn't get snacks," you whisper. You offer your hand to him, full of popcorn.

He shakes his head. You look embarrassed but not surprised, tipping your head back to polish off your handful.

"You went to Hawkins High?" you ask with your hand over your mouth.

"I did. You didn't?"

"I did," you correct gently, wiping your hand on your thigh. "I graduated two years ago. When Eddie should have."

That makes more sense, though Steve's sorry he doesn't remember you. He was a little obsessed with Nance at the time.

"Do you work?" he asks.

You smile like you're about tell him a big secret, edging forward. Your arms brushes his arm on the rest between chairs. "You can't tell anyone."

"On my honour," he says, eyes wide, terrified you're a mercenary or worse, a cold caller.

"I desk at the library," you say.

He blinks. You giggle and Eddie shushes you, already sounding defeated. Chastened, you drop your voice to a barely perceptible level.

"I know, I don't look the type."

"No," he says, too loud, receiving several disgruntled glares. "No, you- Well, maybe you don't. But I don't look like I worked at Scoops Ahoy all summer, so…"

You slap a ring-laden hand over your shiny pout and try to smother a laugh. Bracelets slide down your wrist. "You do! You do look like you worked there," you say joyfully.

He can't find it in him to be offended.

You're milder as you settle back into your seat. A preview passes. You clear your throat.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding worried, "if that was cruel. I get mixed up. I know- I mean, I don't know, but the Starcourt thing. That must've been awful."

Your words stick together like taffy. He releases you as quickly as he can.

"Hey, don't be sorry," he says, scoffing lighty. He readjusted where he's sitting, crossing his arms over his chest. "Doesn't matter." It's not like you'd meant anything by it.

You look less peaky but still hesitant.

"Would you believe me if I told you the worst part of my job was the uniform?" he jokes, wanting to put you at ease again.

"Was it really so bad?" you murmur, your lips slowly curving up into a smile.

"There was a mandated hat."

You laugh. People shush you aggressively. Steve feels something close to magnetism at the sound, and wants to make you do it again.

"Where do you work now?" you whisper as the movie begins.

"Video store by the arcade."

"Family Video?" you ask. He nods, looking down at your hands in your lap, your fingers. Your legs are shaking, minute trembling. You twist one of your rings around your fingers and he wonders what's making you nervous.

"That's the one."

You bend in close, so close he thinks he can smell your shampoo. Dusky, rosewater. Sweet.

"Maybe I can come see you. You can recommend me something."

"Sure," he says, too loud. Somebody coughs, though the cough sounds suspiciously like dickwad.

You watch Day of the Dead, stealing popcorn all the while. You pop the lid off of Eddie's drink and take sneaky sips, and your friend flicks your upper arm when you get greedy. In response, your bashful, peeling laughter.

"Fine, I'll get my own drink. You want one?" you ask Steve, standing with your back bent, necklace dipping down in the space between you. He follows it, looks accidentally straight at your chest and then back up, guilty and blushing. "Steve?" you ask.

"I'll come with you," he says, desperate to escape the dark, the warmth.

Steve follows you down the red, trodden carpet and back into the main body of the theatre, an atrium with high glass windows and wooden beams. It smells old, like dust. The sky is dark now, night eating up every bit of natural light. White cat eyes beam from the movie theatre's floors to guide you to the snack station, a brighter, well stocked haven of greasy foods and cold drinks.

You stand in front of the popcorn machine. It paints your skin with a golden yellow shine, like the sun. You're very quiet as you open your clutch, pulling out hair pins and chapstick and a lone cotton pad before you find your purse, a battered leather pouch embossed with hearts. He tries not to fill the silence, digging for his wallet in his pocket. He gets a too big coke and you deliberate over slurpee flavours, eventually asking for a mix.

"It's so quiet out here," you murmur around your straw.

"Like Family Video on a Friday," he agrees.

"Isn't Friday, like, one of your busiest nights?"

"Yep."

A burst of surprised giggles. Steve hides his smile with a cough, 'cos he's cool.

You pull the straw from your cup and lick it clean, digging for a certain flavour though he's not sure which, still laughing to yourself. Steve takes the initiative and leads you back up the stairs and to your seat, catching your jacket in his hand before you can walk down the wrong row.

You smile gratefully, your lips stained blue and red.

You're sitting on the pavement outside of Family Video. Steve can see your back, your hair.

He wonders why you're here, if it's to see him, and then if you're okay, and feels bad for thinking in that order.

"Robin," he says loudly, reluctant to tear his eyes from you lest you disappear like a shoddy apparition.

"Steven."

"Not correct."

"What, idiot?" Robin asks, picking her head up from the book stretched open in her lap. She sits up and her back clicks loudly.

Steve sighs in disgust. "That's gross, you know? You'll get, like, arthritis."

"You think arthritis is gross? Not cool, Steven."

"No, I meant them as two separate things. Gross to hear you click, and that the clicking will give you arthritis," he explains, exasperated. He runs a hand through his hair.

"That's a myth."

A long pause where Steve watches your back moving, how you're leaning forward towards the sun bleached tarmac.

"What?" he asks suddenly, turning from you finally to stare in disbelief at his best friend.

Robin is more than prepared to fight her cause, the leaves of her book closed around her hand like she'd been waiting for him to ask. She probably had been.

"It's a myth. Clicking your bones doesn't give you arthritis. The clicking sound is fluid moving- Are you even listening to me?"

Steve has dropped his head into his hands. He spreads his fingers wide so Robin can see his eyes. "Robin, we have more important things at hand."

"Like what? Keith's laundry?"

"Like Y/N is sitting outside right now!" he shouts, and then cringes. You don't show any sign of having heard him. He continues in a strangled whisper, "She's been out there for like, five minutes!"

Robin kicks up off of her stool to stand at Steve's side, up on tiptoes to see over the vinyl on the windows. She's listened to his inane rambling and insecure, badly disguised yearning all week, but hasn't had a face to a name until now. She makes a sound of approval like she can understand why Steve has been so wound up about you.

"Why's she on the floor?"

"She does that."

"Oh," Robin says, chin jutting up. "Are you gonna go talk to her?"

He wants to. Dreadfully. Intensely wants to.

"Or I could go talk to her," Robin offers, wrists touching. She rubs them together. Steve ignores her mischievous, shit-eating grin.

"Sure, Robs, you talk to her. Stun her with your stellar people skills."

Robin's lips push, as close as she's ever come to pouting. "Cruel."

"Yet accurate."

"If you're so amazing, why don't you go talk to her, hot shot? Woo her! Chop-chop."

Steve steels his nerves because even if he is about to make a huge fool of himself he's slightly worried about your on-the-ground position. Not unusual for you, but still.

"Are you okay?" he asks as he emerges.

You turn to Steve like you're unsurprised that he's there and offer your headphones to him. "Put these on?"

"Are you okay?" he asks again, voice not dissimilar to when he's bossing around the kids.

You hold the headphones to your chest and dip your chin. "Steve, I'm fine. Please?" you ask, offering them to him.

He puts on the headphones, bent at the waist for the wire to reach your cassette player. He quickly discovers the source of your unhappiness – the tape sounds bloated. Distorted.

"The tapes messed up," he says.

You shake your head with patience, though he can tell from your expression this isn't the first time you've explained it. "It's not the tape, it's the player."

Steve's back gives a twinge. I'm an old man, he thinks in horror, standing up straight with your headphones back in his hands.

"You drop it?" he asks expectantly.

You only frown more, looking generally put out. "No, I took great care of her. Scout's honor."

Steve sighs and decides to take the leap, sitting down beside you on the sidewalk. There's a small dip where the parking lot starts and he stretches one leg out across it, hand on his knee, the other across his abdomen.

"Can't one of your nerd club fix it?" he asks.

"I'm not actually in Hellfire Club, you know."

He didn't. "You can't ask? Eddie must've learned something at school after this many years. By accident. Like… osmosis."

"Eddie's on his third try for a reason," you say, picking at a small ladder in your tights on the side of your calf. You're wearing socks, too, peeking up just over the edge of your thick bottomed boots.

"You know Dustin?" he asks after a patch of silence he would find awkward with anyone who wasn't you. You make it peaceful, in a way. "He could take a look. He went to science camp and built, like, the world's strongest radio."

He can't tell if you're listening. Your eyes are trained on the sidewalk, its crack, and the weeds growing between them. There's a wet snapping sound.

You hold a small yellow flower between your fingers.

"A creeping buttercup," you tell him. You push your palm flat in the space between you both and lean towards him. "Do you like butter?"

"Do I- Yeah, sure, I like butter. Who doesn't?"

You lick your lips. "Mind if I check?" you ask him.

"Is that a trick question?"

"Steve," you say, chiding. You tilt your head to your shoulder and the breeze kisses your hair, ruffling soft strands as you hold the flower under his chin intently. He feels frozen.

"You love butter," you say, nodding like what you just said makes sense.

"Are you sure you're okay? Didn't hit your head on the way here?"

"Here. Hold it under my chin," you tell him, offering him the flower. You twirl its stem, though you stop when he moves to take it.

Steve feels like an idiot as he holds it by your neck.

"Closer," you say softly, lifting your head.

Steve raises his eyebrows but keeps his skepticism to himself. To his surprise, when the flower is close enough to your skin, a small patch of yellow light appears, gauzy around the edges.

"What the fuck…"

You lower your chin, your faces closer than Steve had realised. You look straight into his eyes. "It's a reflection of the light. 'Cos it's clear out."

He feels out of his element no matter how captivating he finds you – he can't get to grips with it. His silence quickly deters you; you look away from his face and your lips pull into a pout as you bite your bottom lip. You bend at the waist and mess with your shoelaces.

"Did you wanna come inside?" he asks, trying to fix whatever it is he did. Girls are complicated.

You cheer up a bit.

"Do you have anything like Day of the Dead?"

He has no clue.

"Sure we do," he says confidently.

He stands up fast and offers his hand. You take it, your palm smooth and cool in his, admittedly warmer and slightly calloused. He hopes the ease with which he pulls you up is impressive, then feels stupid for thinking that. You squeeze his fingers before you let go and follow him into Family Video.

"So, what? You like him?" Eddie asks you from above, cross-legged on his bed. Denim jacket nowhere to be seen, he sits in a t-shirt with the sleeves hacked off, tattoos on clear display, stark against his pale skin.

"Don't be jealous, Eds," you say mildly.

He crawls to the edge of the bed to look down at you where you lie on his floor. His hair tickles your nose and you hold in a sneeze.

"Nice face," he says.

"I think he likes me."

"Why wouldn't he? You're cool."

You stare at your best friend's earnest face. "You know why."

"No, I don't."

You close your eyes, head dipping to your shoulder. You can't hide from him, though you've tried. Your arms cross over your tummy in a self-hug.

The ground is cold. His uncle's trailer is always cold, frigid in the winter. Minimal insulation and no A/C. You rub your face into the scratchy rug beneath you and sigh morosely, suddenly overcome with a pinching misery.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie says seriously.

"I don't think I can do it." It hurts to say, though you know Eddie won't judge you.

"What? Have a boyfriend?"

You nod. The mattress creaks as he moves. You're expecting his touch, though his cold finger flicking you square in the forehead startles you anyway. Your eyes jump open. You flinch up into a sitting position and rub your head.

"Shithead."

"Stop doubting yourself."

"I get so messed up. I'm a bad friend, I wouldn't- I wouldn't be a good girlfriend," you mutter, bringing your knees to your chest. You hide in them.

"You don't get messed up," he says.

"I'm stupid."

"Y/N," he says, dragging your name out sternly. "Here, come sit with me. I won't flick you again, promise."

You rub your eyes, smudging your makeup and stand reluctantly to flop onto his bed, his rumpled sheets a lump under your back. Eddie pulls your necklace from where it has ridden up your neck and drops it down the valley of your chest absent-mindedly.

"You're not stupid," he says gently. "And you don't get 'messed up'. You're overthinking things."

"I'm not," you argue. "I'm an idiot, and I say the wrong things, and maybe he does like me but it won't last long."

You didn't have an easy time in school. Eddie knows this, lived it with you, and he's blamed it a thousand times for your low self-esteem. Ever understanding, he hums to himself skeptically and grabs your shoulder, giving you a good shake. He doesn't stop until you're laughing.

"I'm trying to shake some sense into you," he confides. "You're really fucking cool. And I'm not just saying that because you've been copying me since middle school, you're really cool."

"Cool," you repeat.

"Awesome."

You run the chain of your necklace through your fingers and feel the links skip over your skin, frowning.

"I thought for sure he'd ask me out by now."

"Maybe you should ask him."

"He probably thinks I'm, like, a creepy stalker."

"Creepy, maybe. Stalker? For what? Visiting him at work? That's friendly." You're overthinking things, he doesn't say.

"I left him my phone number," you admit, whispering. "But he hasn't called me."

"Babe, you're always fucking here. Did you check your machine?"

Obsessively. "Yeah."

Eddie throws himself down and kicks his legs over your tummy, to your annoyance. He ponders and you sulk, the rough sounds of Black Sabbath playing in the background.

"You've only met him a few times, right?"

Right. The movies, the video store, once when you'd bumped into him at the arcade and a couple of times when he'd checked out books at the library.

Eddie smiles as you tell him. "The library?"

"Yeah."

"He's visiting you at work?"

You think back to the last time you'd seen him, all of ten minutes across the desk with your clean library uniform and your neat hair. You finally cracked and asked him if he thought it suited you better.

"You look great," Steve had said, smiling lopsided, "but I miss your pretty gems. Oh, we have Friday the 13th back in. I kept it for you..."

"No, he's visiting the library," you say.

Eddie chuckles, his deep, teasing laugh. "And before you met, you saw him in there a lot, huh?"

"Well, no."

"So it's a coincidence that he found out where you work and he's suddenly an academic?"

"Shut up, Eddie," you plead, covering your face with your hands.

"Fine, whatever, we'll stop talking about it. Wanna paint my nails?"

"No."

You get up and paint his nails. You've done one hand pretty well when there's the sound of a car parking outside. Eddie turns down the stereo and you stare at each other curiously, listening for clues.

"Your uncle?"

"No. Probably for someone else."

Instantly disproved, there's a knock at the door, breaking up the silence. Eddie sighs dramatically and climbs over your legs to answer, his footsteps clumsy. "Yeah, coming," he calls. You stand and peer around the doorway, waiting to see who it is.

Eddie opens the door. "Harrington," he says, surprised, vaguely disgusted. "The munchkins aren't here."

"No, I know. I'm looking for Y/N."

You feel a stab of excitement right to your heart and scramble for Eddie's mirror, looking over your face and outfit with something close to terror looming – you're in an old band t-shirt covered in hair-dye from Eddie's red and pink phase and a skirt that's too short. You pull it down to make sure everything is properly covered.

"Yeah, she's here," Eddie says, though the door creaks as he closes it slightly, his voice a fraction from intimidating as he asks, "Who's asking?"

"Me?" Steve asks.

Your socks slide over linoleum in your rush to stop Eddie from being a total dick, edging him out of the way with your hip. He doesn't budge. You shove him with a huff and smile at Steve, trying to calm your pounding heart.

"Steve, hi."

"Hey," he looks over your shoulder. You turn, see Eddie standing there looking unimpressed. He waves. You glare at him fiercely and step over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

You don't second guess as you take Steve's wrist into your hand, pulling him down the steps and into the short grass to make sure Eddie can't eavesdrop. It's damp under your socks.

Steve looks hot. You're a simple girl, you won't deny that. His hair looks more windblown than usual, lazy strands falling into his face. His eyes are serious, light brown and edged in straight lashes you would count if he let you, brows slightly lifted. You realise he's taking you in as you do the same and feel self conscious, shifting from foot to foot.

"Sorry, I look weird. I didn't-" you bite your tongue. I didn't know you were coming, you'd almost said, but of course you didn't, and telling him you would've dressed up if he was coming might scare him off.

Any anxiety you'd had is soothed as he takes your hand, still loosely clasped around his wrist, and squeezes the centre of your palm with his thumb.

"Are you kidding?" he asks, hand moving down, thumb rubbing over your pulse point. "You look beautiful. Don't worry about it."

His nonchalance trips you up. You can feel your heart in your mouth, like a hummingbird on your tongue.

"What did… what did you wanna ask me?" you stammer.

Steve drops your hand. "I tried calling, but I figured you'd be here. Uh, so-" he laughs, pulling a hand through his hair before dipping into the pocket of his jacket. You watch his arms then his hands.

"I got these," he says, pulling two tickets from his pocket. White and a third red, he offers them to you. You take them, enough adrenaline running through you that your hands are shaking and you struggle to read what they say.

Steve jumps in. "I know you really liked Day of the Dead. They're doing a showing in Indianapolis, one of those fancy theatre's where everyone dresses up as zombies, and like, they throw fake guts on you. Or something."

"Oh," you murmur. Awesome, you think. Oh my god. "That's sick."

"Right?"

"And you…"

"I want you to go with me. I want to take you," he says firmly. "On a date."

"A date."

"It's Friday. I'll pick you up, we'll drive there in the morning. Hang around, we can go wherever you want for dinner, see the sights."

"This is before or after we dress up like zombies?" you ask, hiding a huge smile.

Steve blushes, let it be written, his cheeks red. He sounds frustrated as he says, "Right, not my best idea. Before? We can get ready in the car," his voice fades before he finishes. "That's not a good idea."

He starts on a self deprecating waffle that you can't allow. You press the tickets to your chest, way too happy. "This is pretty cool."

"You think so?" he asks quickly, strung out.

"Yeah," you say fondly.

"Oh."

You almost step on his toes as you kiss his hot cheek. He smells nice. You set back on your heels and linger, trying to work out what his cologne smells like. Something fresh, not quite lemony.

You get a bit dizzy and carried away, stroking the curve of his arm with the back of your hand. Steve makes a sound like a hiccup and you remember yourself, stepping away bashfully, afraid to meet his eyes.

"So," Steve says, sounding relieved. Excited. "You'll go?"

"Yeah. It sounds awesome."

"It's a date," he says.

You tell him your address and he promises to call you to smooth out all the details but he really has to go to work. You climb back up the stairs and close the door almost all the way, watching as Steve gets in his car through the crack. He sits motionless for a bit before he fist pumps the air, says, "Yes! Ugh, yes. Still got it. Still got it, Hawkins."

You close the door.

"Ew, you look happy. Harrington cop a feel?" Eddie says.

"Something like that."

You're running down a dark alleyway with Steve's hand in yours. He's almost dragging you. Dude runs fast.

"I ran track!" he tells you helpfully.

You can't help the breathless laughing as you go, nervous and humming with energy. You'd both been having a great time at dinner and lost track of time, and now it's twenty minutes until doors open for Day of the Dead and neither of you look particularly lifeless.

You almost slam into the back door of his BMW, scrambling inside. Steve is quick behind you, upending the bag with your change of clothes onto the back seat. Your makeup and fake blood tumble out after it. He reaches up to turn on the overhead light.

"Fuck," Steve says, face carved in shadow. "Fuck. We don't have time."

"Sure we do," you say, tugging your shirt off quickly. Steve looks pointedly away once he notices your predicament. You chuckle. "Steve, just get changed. I don't care if you look."

"I'm a gentleman," he insists, rushing, the two of you folding and bumping into each other in a hurry to get dressed into your old clothes.

You catch flashes of his bare chest as he buttons down then buttons up, his legs, his thighs. You feel heat lick every stretch of skin you have at the sight. Oh, he's hairy, you think, and then have to slam your eyes shut to stop from thinking sick (completely normal, dirty) thoughts.

You pull your tights off of your ankles, blush at the idea of being sequestered in a car with him in your underwear, and leap to replace them with a pair of tight, pinstriped trousers, shrugging into them with great difficulty. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you pull on your blouse, white for the best fake blood effect, buttoning up just enough to hide your bra.

Make up next. You want to look scary and, importantly, believable. You fish for the make up you'd brought and have managed to suitably brush up your dark eyes with purples to look bruised and sickly by the time Steve has finished redressing. He tightens the tie around his neck.

"You next," you say.

Steve hesitates. "I've never done any makeup before."

You don't blink. "That's okay. I'll do it for you, if you want me to."

Steve climbs closer over your discarded clothes, close enough to hear his breathing, still fast. You brush the hair out of his eyes and they find yours, the two of you sharing a private smile, though there's no one else around.

"Will you ruin my good looks?"

"You'll be a very handsome zombie," you promise.

You reach for his face.

"You need to get closer," you tell him, fingers hooked under his ear. You tilt his head to the light.

"I can't," he says.

You steel your nerves and grab onto his shoulder gently, anchoring yourself as you climb up into his lap. If he's surprised he doesn't show it, his big hands coming up to your waist. You can feel the heat of each finger clearly on your skin where he grips you and the heat of his thighs like a furnace underneath yours. You try not to brush against him, standing up on your knees.

You use your fingers, rubbing them gently in the powder shadows and then over his silky skin. Big stripes of purple, a wash of yellow around his pretty eyes. He closes them as you dab a dark red under his eyelashes. You grow closer still, your breath fanning over his face. His hand skips respectably over your back and down to your thigh, holding you up. It's helpful. It's torture. You try not to breathe too loudly.

"You have really soft skin," you say, using your thumb to spread dark contour under his cheekbone, one side of his face gaunt.

You cover your work with your hand as his eyes open.

"Yeah?" he asks.

This closeness. Suddenly, abruptly, the feelings you're trying to push down rear their heads, and the heat becomes hard to ignore.

"Yeah," you murmur, thumb under his eye. He looks ridiculous. You know you look the same.

"Am I done?" he asks. His hand squeezes your thigh as he adjusts his hold.

"Not quite," you say.

You finish his makeup in silence. Time slows. You forget that you're late, content to feel his features under your hands, to learn the planes and dips of his face for the first time like this. You tuck his hair behind his ears carefully, smoothing back his hairline.

He's looking up at you. You sit down in his lap and he moves his hands to behind your back, his head following you down intently. He looks serious.

You draw your hand from his face and drop it onto his thigh, your rings brushing over starchy slacks.

It's his turn to touch you. Steve's hand comes to your face, his broad palm over the entirety of your cheek. You wait for something though you're not sure what, frozen with apprehension, simply watching him take you in.

"Do I look scary?" you ask, eyes on his lips.

They part before he answers, like he knows what he's going to say before he says it. "Horrifying," he murmurs wryly, hand gently pulling your face towards his.

You lift your chin to meet his lips, the muscles of his forearms shifting against your chest as he cups your face in both hands, guiding you to him. Your lips touch, tentative at first, one small kiss that feels more than warm, a homely, perfect fit. He pulls back and you don't, tapping the tip of his nose with yours until he opens his mouth.

You sneak in as his hand runs down your neck, your arm, slow and sleek. He makes a small sound as he takes the lead, opening you up, and it tickles your lips with its vibrations. He sounds content. You're feeling similarly happy, grabbing at his hand where it holds your face, squeezing his wrist to hold it in place as you push yourself into his arms. He takes you eagerly, pulling you chest to chest.

His head bumps the window. You pull apart, panting and happy and giggling, your lips damp and tingling. Steve rubs the back of his head, looking at you with an expression you can't describe.

"What?" you ask, wiping at his bottom lip with your thumb where your lipstick has stained him.

"How come you're so pretty, even like this?"

"Like this, a zombie?" Steve nods slowly. "Let me know when you find out, Harrington."

He pulls you back in with a smirk that sets your tummy aflame. "You think I'm pretty?" he asks, lips a millimetre from yours.

"Super pretty," you say, and kiss him. He loves on your top lip like you've got all the time in the world, kisses warm and slick. "Almost as pretty as me," you say between them.

He slows your kisses, gives you one last peck over your burning mouth. "No one's as pretty as you," he says agreeably.

You beam. Steve beams back though it quickly fades as he brings his arm up to check his watch.

"We're so late," he says, manhandling you off of his lap with an apologetic grimace. "C'mon, we still gotta cover you in blood."

You both get out and Steve sprays you down with fake blood. You laugh as he does, the cold liquid tickling your skin as it trickles down your face and your chest and your tummy.

Steve takes his own bloodying with far less laughter though he smiles at your glee. He's so handsome you can't help it, stepping into his space for another kiss. There's blood on your lips, evidently, as it transfers to his.

"We need to go," you say, like it's his fault.

"Wait. I have something for you."

Steve opens the driver's side and takes a small object from under the seat. He hands it to you.

"I called in a favour. Dustin and Lucas fixed it up, I checked, like, ten tapes. It works."

In your hands the bane of your existence, your faulty Walkman. There's a fake blood mark in the shape of his thumbprint on the side and you decide you're going to leave it there forever, looking to him with a completely uncool amount of affection.

"Steve," you say happily, a heat behind your eyes.

"I got sick of seeing you pouting, that's all," he says hotly, crossing his arm over his chest. "Now you can stop sulking."

You throw your hands around his neck to hug him tightly, the Walkman pressed to his neck. He oomphs, hands flying to your sides. Your face against his shoulder, you curl a strand of his brown hair around one of your fingers. "Thank you." You dot a corn syrup kiss against his throat. "You're the coolest," you say as you pull away.

His hands move from around your back to your shoulders, holding you at arms length. "People have said that about me."

"I bet."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thanks for reading! | my masterlist

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #eddie munson x reader platonic

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abbyonmars · 5 months

Text

my gf!abby headcannons ♥ wlw

ohasjkdhfajkfd

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . word count — 394! short, ik

gf!abby never lets her guard down. except around you. she wholeheartedly believes she could trust you with her life, and she knows you know it.

gf!abby loves to tease you - it could be anything, whether that be through quietly imitating the way you sound when you're slightly irritated, small snickers to herself when you accidentally knock things down/walk into something. (strangely), she does it purely out of her adoration for you.

gf!abby loves to watch movies with you. she un-ironically does that stupid cliche thing where she pretends to yawn so she has an excuse to wrap her arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to her.

gf!abby loves watching as you count the freckles on her face. she'll sit patiently for hours, watching the way your concentrated eyes would dart around her pretty cheeks, her beautiful nose - she doesn't even realise the dumb smile that's been creeping onto her lips in the meanwhile.

it's as if you put the stars into her eyes. gf!abby adores you, and she's always thinking of you; she's been around you long enough to have every little habit of yours memorised perfectly. she inwardly likes to predict every possible response of yours, and if you're not there with her, she likes to imagine what you would say or do if you were.

(un)fortunately, gf!abby is a freeaaak about your health. if she weren't your girlfriend, she'd be like an additional maternal figure - just constant questions about, "have you eaten?", "have you exercised today?", "what about your vitamins?", "are you cold?". - it just keeps coming. sweet, but never-ending.

speaking of health, gf!abby loves when you watch her exercise. she might not say it, but it's kinda obvious - she loves to show off for you. "hey, y/n! - i bench pressed xyz-lbs today. impressive, right?" — she'll play it off like a joke, but she loves when you praise her. to her, your validation is so important.

you changed her for the better. before you and gf!abby got together, she was never at all about being romantic, and she had never felt the need to even picture herself in a relationship. albeit, you mean everything to her. with each breath, you make her the happiest girl in the world, and she wouldn't dare picture her life without you in it.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

first post done!! yay!!! i feel like i got a little carried away and i might have to go outside to touch some dirt but unfortunately the uk is like pitch black by 4pm LOL

i also feel like i was a little dramatic but hey. im down bad tbh

also yes im aware the last one is unrealistic. im just pretending like owen doesn't exist and i also want to feel special ok im writing these for me too dont even

should i write more???? if anyone happens to have any reqs for short stories or anything don't be afraid to write me ;)

bye!!!!!

#abby anderson #wlw #sapphic #tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #fluff #soft #the last of us part 2 #the last of us 2 #tlou abby #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #lesbian #lesbian pride

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changbunnies · 3 days

Text

Reverie, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Prince!Hyujin x Lord's Daughter!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, love at first sight, fairy tale elements, angst, fluff, eventual smut

♡ Word Count: 18.9k

♡ Summary: Staring out from your window everyday where you live confined, Hyunjin sees you- melancholic, lonely, beautiful; love at first sight. He wants to know you, to take you away from where you remain, doomed to be solitary. Spending your every moment daydreaming about the perfect life, meeting Hyunjin sparks a hope that you'd long since given up on- that your reverie can become your reality.

♡ Warnings: reader has an evil step-mother and step-sisters, involuntary confinement, themes of loneliness, isolation, and emotional + verbal abuse, reader is very touch starved and has low self-esteem from her mistreatment, past + referenced parental death (none are described) as well as having a parent who is sick, outdated marriage traditions, chan is featured and goes by chris, incredibly unrealistic because of the fairy tale romance inspo lol but it's a fun read, i hope!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): virgin reader + virgin hyunjin, petnames (darling), loss of virginity, nipple play, oral (f + m rec), unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: hey yall sorry its been a over month since my last post :') i was going thru a lot in my personal life that made it hard to write, as well as i HATED my first draft of this fic so i decided to entirely rewrite it gfsdhsdg but it's finally here after a lot of grief !! I honestly still don't like it all that much but I didn't want it to sit in my drafts any longer or rewrite for a third time so :') anyways i took a inspo for this one from rapunzel and cinderella, as well as a bit from sweeney todd (if you’ve seen the movie pls tell me you see the vision of hyunjin as jamie campbell bower’s character…) + a smidge of romeo and juliet.

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Sighing as he watches the scenery slowly pass him by through the carriage window, a deep frown adorns Hyunjin's face. He's no stranger to traveling, and normally he quite enjoys the break from the typical royal monotony, but this time around he can't bring himself to enjoy the sights that pass him by. The abundant flower fields, the surrounding lush forest on the edges, the perfectly blue sky.. none of them prevent the melancholy from setting in; because waiting for him at today's destination, in a manor just a fair few miles outside the castle city's walls, is yet another girl hoping to be his bride.

He's tired, to put it plainly; tired of meeting girl after girl who cares not for who he is as a person, but what his lineage offers them- and he expects today to go no differently. Why would he after the countless disappointments he's faced, after the myriad of times he's expected a night to end badly, and been proved right? And perhaps it is unfair of him to judge how the afternoon will go well before he's even met her, but his expectations have long since been set.

Hyunjin's royal attendant, who accompanies him to all his meetings and currently sits beside him within the carriage, does his best not to show how the prince's constant sighing grates on his nerves. Royal attendants should always be calm and patient in the face of frustration, and that is what Christopher strives to be; so he speaks to the prince as kindly as his dwindling patience will allow him. "Must you look so miserable? I imagine the girls won't take kindly to the prince looking at them with such disdain."

"Girls? Plural?" Hyunjin asks, groaning audibly when his attendant nods. Great. As if a blind setup with just one girl wasn't enough.. Still, he doesn't need to be reminded to mind his manners. He'll hold himself to the utmost royal standard when the time comes, as he always does- and he tells Chris as such. "I certainly hope so," Christopher responds with practiced ease, "There aren't many demoiselles left to meet, and your father will be disappointed if we return with more outright denials."

"I'm aware," Hyunjin replies simply, frustration still clear in his voice, though he tries his best to temper it. He knows his attendant is not wrong, and is simply trying to look out for him while also keeping Hyunjin's royal duty in mind. It's imperative that Hyunjin marry before his father's illness progresses to the point that he must concede the throne, and it's Christopher's job to ensure that Hyunjin doesn't forget that.

But still.. despite the circumstances begging for urgency, this is not a matter that Hyunjin is willing to bend on. He values true love, romance, genuine connection above all else; and so when he marries, he'll do it for real love, and real love only- even if it means the throne passes him by and goes instead to his uncle. Hyunjin doesn't understand, nor does he care, why the law requires him to marry to take the throne. He imagines it's related to ensuring that the noble line continues- something he ultimately pays no mind to and refuses to take seriously, though he knows he should.

Hyunjin is considered by most of the royal family to be stubborn by nature, a trait his father has told him countless times he gets from his late mother, but Hyunjin himself likes to believe he is reasonable. While he's not entirely malleable, he does act with the country's best interest in heart, and he swallows down all frustration and gracefully does whatever he feels he must in favor of doing what is best for the citizens.

It just so happens that marriage is the one thing on which he will not compromise; and stubborn or not, Hyunjin thinks he should be allowed this one thing. All he wants is genuine love with someone who places the same amount of value in that love as he does, and he never expected that such a wish would be too much to ask for. But either way, all he can do for now is straighten his posture, put on his best smile, and hope that against his expectations, today will bring him the love he’s been searching for.

Similarly, you too stare from your window; though not from a horse-drawn carriage, but from where your bedroom lies on the second floor of your late father's manor. According to your step-mother, a very important suitor is coming to meet your step-sisters today, and she has taken every necessary precaution in ensuring you would be out of the way for the evening. You were used to such treatment by now, and being locked away in your room and ignored for hours on end was no longer something that brought you the intense grief it once had.

Sad to say, it'd become a simple fact of life since your father passed; you were used to the loneliness and the sadness and the grief of having a family that did not love you as you loved them. Truly, you loved your step-mother and sisters, and back then you never would've guessed they secretly abhorred your existence. But your father passed, and with his passing came the truth- that she never loved your father, or you- just what he had; and she was raising her daughters to be just the same.

Against his wife's knowledge or wishes however, your father's will had stipulations she must follow if she wanted to inherit his estate- the most important of which being that she care for you, his precious, only biological daughter, as one of her own until the day you are wed and depart from the manor to be with your new family. Thanks to this clause, your step-mother provides for you; and though it is only the bare minimum amount necessary, it could certainly be worse. You still have your childhood bedroom, all your precious belongings, 3 hot meals a day, and the maids who helped your father raise you still checking in on you.

The maids are forbidden from interacting with you more than is necessary, as your step-mother makes it her mission to make you as miserable as possible within the limitations your father's will provides, but they do what they can. The small talk they provide while filling your bath with hot water, and the snuck in messages written on scraps of paper hidden beneath your dinner tray are often the highlights of your day. You are lonely, but not alone, and that keeps you going on the particularly hard days.

Days like today, where the padlock your step-mother installed outside your bedroom door is ordered to remain locked no matter what, ensuring that you are unable to leave and ruin her evening, or her plans. She intends to find her daughters wealthy, prestigious husbands- men that cannot be given the chance to look upon you, lest they decide they like you more than her biological daughters.

You wouldn't misbehave regardless of whether or not the lock was in place. You're so used to being locked away in your room that even were the lock to no longer exist, you don't think you'd even notice; because you wouldn't ever try to leave in the first place. And compounding on that, you don't think yourself particularly special or beautiful enough to "threaten" your sister's marriage prospects; all you'd do is needlessly subject yourself to reminders that you're lesser than when they inevitably gloss over you.

You simply.. exist. But in your step-mother's eyes, that's your greatest sin. She hates you, and your existence alone causes her great grief. The simple fact that you exist prevented her from truly obtaining what she wanted most; your father's wealth hinged on you being taken care of to obtain. And thus, she couldn't just throw you out and leave you to your fate as she originally intended; so she begrudgingly provides for you, the depth of her loathing coming out in passive-aggressive words, meals resentfully delivered, and a locked bedroom door where she can leave you for a time and pretend her greatest wish is true- that you don't exist.

Staring out your window is how you've come to spend most of your days. Daydreaming, listening to birds sing, watching deer graze and rabbits sprint across the fields and between the trees. You reread your books to the point you could recite them with ease, you fantasize about love and companionship and freedom, and you wonder if there will ever come a day where such joy can be yours. You suspect not; when you do marry, it'll likely be to some terrible man your step-mother chooses on the basis that they continue your misery.

But in the sanctity of your bedroom, inside your imagination and idle daydreams, you can pretend that true love and happiness waits for you. Where you are valued and cherished and adored, where you are wanted and craved, where a life without you in it cannot even be imagined, for it would be too painful for your lover to even consider.

Lost in thought as you are, you almost miss it when the carriage your step-mother and sisters are expecting comes into sight. And normally you would pull yourself away from the window, make sure you're out of sight from whomever exits the carriage, lest whoever your step-mother is having over recognize you. But this carriage is so different from the ones that typically arrive at the manor that it makes you curious.

It's fancy- easily the most extravagant and ornate carriage you've ever seen; not that you've seen many, but the point stands. It's clear that whomever your family is meeting today is no ordinary suitor. There’s a crest beholden on the door, one that seems vaguely familiar, and you wish you could place it as it would assuredly be a hint to who is arriving, but the memory of what family it comes from eludes you.

It’s been so long since you’ve been out to the city, or communicated with families your father was close with, that it's hard to recall the family crests you once so easily recognized. But whatever family it belongs to, one thing is clear- they are surely wealthy and prestigious to afford a carriage this grand. No wonder your step-mother wants you out of the way today; if a wealthy suitor somehow chooses you over her real daughters, that would be her worst nightmare.

You watch with bated breath as a man steps out from the left side of the carriage, a man you can tell from dress alone is some sort of attendant. He works his way around to the right of the carriage to open the door for whoever remains inside- the wealthy suitor being an obvious guess. And really, you should look away and mind your own business lest you risk angering your step-mother, but you can't help yourself. This is the closest thing to fresh entertainment you’ve had (and are going to have), and so you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away.

And oh, the man who steps out when the door is opened for him is breathtaking. Even at a distance, he’s positively ethereal- easily the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. And you are certain that, even with your lack of worldly experience, he is utterly without comparison. He’s pretty, impossibly pretty, with long black hair, half of which is tied back by a ribbon, rings adorning his fingers, ornate yet dainty bracelets that seem to perfectly match the necklaces he wears, and beautiful, pure white and dangly earrings that remind you of a teardrop in shape, all of which match his equally embellished doublet.

He looks so very grand, elegant, to the point that you feel absolutely unworthy to even be looking at someone so strikingly gorgeous and well dressed. God, if he chooses one of your step-sisters to marry, someone so clearly wealthy and beautiful and important.. you just know your step-mother will lord it over you as her greatest proof that they are better than you.

The bitter, hurt part of you half wished the man your sisters were meeting today would be boorish and unimpressive, but of course that’s not the case.. And it saddens you, strangely. You like to think yourself above pettiness, and you’d rather experience the world through a lens of kindness despite what you’ve suffered, but seeing someone so utterly perfect going to meet your sisters, and knowing how they will mock you and laugh in your face should he fall for one of them..

Maybe, somewhere deep down, you’re jealous. Jealous, and angry, and hurt, as you’ve always been, but tried not to acknowledge. And it’s not the perceived wealth you’re jealous of, or the possibility of a beautiful husband, but the chance for connection they have that you don’t. That they can meet someone like him and be given the chance to fall in love, while you are forced into isolation and monotony. It isn’t fair, and it never has been, but today of all days is where you feel that injustice most strongly.

You choke on the melancholy, your eyes well with tears that you try to blink away as your hands ball into fists in your lap. You shouldn’t have watched the window today or let your curiosity and boredom get the best of you- all you’ve done is make yourself impossibly sad. You begin to stand from your seat by the window, ready yourself to close the curtains and wallow in your bed for the rest of the evening, when suddenly, you freeze. Your hand unmoving on the curtain, eyes widening with the realization that your sister’s suitor is looking at you. And it's not as simple as a passing glance- no, he is staring at you.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened when he first saw you in the window, at first just passively looking over the manor and taking in the sight as he readied himself to enter, before his eyes fell upon you. And upon seeing you, he became completely and utterly enraptured by your beauty, in a way he’s never experienced with anyone he’s ever met before.

He can’t help but stare, can’t manage to tear his eyes away from your visage even when Chris calls his name. And when you stand to close the curtains, and your eyes travel to him and meet his gaze, his breath catches in his throat, his heart skips a beat before it races, and his face flushes to an impossibly bright pink.

How and why does he have this feeling? How is that you enchant him with just a glance, when others have failed to with much more? You’ve not yet truly met, nor spoken a single word, and yet he feels it firmly- a desire hereto unmatched, that does not follow preconceived notions of what is logical, the kind you would only read about in the great romantic works of playwrights and novelists. A feeling he never expected to be based in truth, but here he is now, feeling it for himself- love at first sight.

And if love at first sight is real and it is true, then he cannot wait to meet you. To learn your name and hear your voice and speak with you until your throats run dry. He’ll devote himself to learning everything about you, to carving your every word and thought into his memory. He wants to learn what it is about your soft, melancholic expression that he finds so entrancing, to discover what it is that causes his heart to stir in ways entirely foreign to him.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, Prince Hyunjin, Hyunjin-” Christopher tries every way possible to get the prince’s attention, letting out an exasperated sigh when Hyunjin finally turns back to him. He doesn’t even know what caught his attention- when he tried to follow the prince’s gaze, all he was met with was a window with its curtains pulled shut. “My apologies. I just-” Hyunjin starts, taking one last glance at the now empty window before turning back to his attendant. “Nevermind. Let’s just go inside.”

Chris quietly huffs his agreement, quickly offering the manor’s maids who were waiting on them his apologies in Hyunjins stead, as he is used to. He’s accustomed to not understanding what goes on inside the prince’s head, but at least he seems prepared now.. Almost happy, Chris would think if he didn’t know better. Regardless of its origin and whether or not he understands where it came from, he will welcome it- because it really is vital that Hyunjin choose a bride with haste.

The start of the evening goes as predictably as anticipated from that point on- the maids lead them to the great room, offering tea and freshly baked sweets while they wait. Hyunjin politely turns them down while Chris stands a comfortable distance away, there simply to keep an eye on the prince and observe how the arranged meeting proceeds. The lady of the manor enters the room after some time passes, bowing politely and apologizing for the delay before ushering her daughters into the room.

They’re dressed extravagantly, as expected, with expensive jewelry, perfectly laid hair, and tasteful makeup. They introduce themselves politely, though they erupt into quiet giggles afterwards, likely excited that one of them will potentially be chosen to marry the prince. Their mother shoots them a look, and it makes them clear their throats and cease their elated giggling, returning to proper posture with their hands folded in front of them, both smiling at him sweetly. But something’s wrong..

Hyunjin looks between the girls, their mother, and back to the girls, head tilting and brows furrowing in confusion; he doesn’t see the one from the window anywhere.. Shouldn’t she be here? “Isn’t there another?” he asks, and the dame’s eyes widen for a moment, a complex flash of emotions that Hyunjin doesn’t have enough time to fully decipher within them, before she reverts back to her previous calm, inviting demeanor.

“I believe I wrote in my proposal to the royal family that I have two, and only two, daughters. Perhaps there was a miscommunication between you and your men?” She suggests, and though it’s spoken kindly, Hyunjin gets the distinct impression that she wants to shut down any talk of a third daughter here and now. Christopher too is confused, but he apologizes to the dame, insisting the mistake is his fault, though it certainly isn’t.

The dame accepts the apology and swiftly moves on, though the tension still lingers. Even as she begins to talk at great length about how wonderful her daughters are and how lucky everyone involved would be should Hyunjin choose one of them to be his princess, there’s an edge beneath the kindly spoken words that hint towards how bothered his mistake made her. Her daughters too seem tense when he first questions if there is another, though by the time they are allowed to speak themselves all tension in them seems to melt away, instead focusing on singing their own praises and expressing their desire to see the royal castle.

It’s so jarring, tense, awkward, that it completely prevents Hyunjin from being able to focus on a single word the girls say. Ordinarily, he would not bat an eye at someone correcting a mistake in his speech or for having come to an incorrect conclusion, as it is imperative that a prince goes about his dealings with as correct as information as possible. But that being said, the dame’s reaction rubs him the wrong way, especially when paired with the nervous flash in her daughter’s eyes as their bodies tensed..

If he was simply mistaken, it would be natural and correct for her to clear up any misgivings he has about her family and estate kindly- there’d be no reason to address him with such underlying hostility or be on the defensive, as if he’d brought up a point that needs to be fiercely fought against. The emotion that flickered in their eyes, the terse words filled with faux-niceties, the shift in body language.. They suggest to Hyunjin only one thing- that a third daughter is in fact here; and for some strange reason, the lady of the house doesn’t want him to meet her.

But why would that be? The ideas that cross his mind make him woefully unable to focus on anything spoken to him. Maybe you’re already promised to someone else, maybe you’ve been married before and are now widowed, living in your old family home while stricken with grief.. Maybe you’re a cousin simply having a visit that by pure chance coincides with the prince arriving too, or maybe he imagined you somehow. But could that really be? You were so real, that doesn’t seem possible..

“But what do you think? .. Prince Hyunjin..?” One of the girls asks, and when he doesn’t reply, Chris clears his throat and steps forward to subtly nudge the prince, breaking him from his thoughts. “Allow me to apologize. The prince is.. tired these days. He’s got a lot on his plate, as I’m sure you understand,” Chris says, shooting Hyunjin a look that begs him to take the lead and finish cleaning the mess he’s made.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Uhm- perhaps you could allow me a small break? And then I promise you’ll both have my undivided attention,” Hyunjin suggests, being sure to offer them his most charismatic smile in the hopes they’ll look past how inattentive he’s been thus far. They agree easily, giggling and lightly blushing, assuring him a break is good for everyone (which he knows isn’t true, but it’s polite of them, at least.)

This time, he accepts the tea when it’s offered to him, chugging it down in a display that goes completely against the manners that have been drilled into him. He asks to be led to the nearest restroom, splashes water on his face and wills himself to focus on the task at hand. And though it comes with great difficulty, he forces himself to pay strict attention to every word spoken to him from that point onward, though your image continues to exist in the back of his mind the entire time.

Hyunjin steps out of the manor with a sigh, finding himself entirely drained after his meeting with the two sisters and their incredibly duplicitous mother. Originally, he’d planned to leave before nightfall, but they somehow managed to rope him into having dinner with them, and to say it was exhausting would be an understatement. Now he stands in the light of the moon, deep frown returning as he waits for preparations to leave to be made- because he absolutely refuses to stay here until morning.

As expected, once he broke himself out of his fog and started paying attention to what they were saying, they were incredibly vain and equally daft, and the more he spoke to them, the clearer it became that they weren’t fit to someday sit on a throne. It was extremely obvious that they were vying for increased fortune and pride- and at the behest of their mother specifically. To old herself to marry into the royal family, it seemed she was content to allow her daughters to do the social climbing on her behalf.

Not that her daughter’s are completely ignorant of this plot- he’s sure they’re well aware of the benefits if one of them becomes a princess, and are well instructed and prepped on how best to appeal themselves to a noble’s proclivities. Unfortunately for them, Hyunjin is unlike most nobles, and he takes the task of one day rearing his country very seriously- much too seriously to marry someone selfish, and without grace or tact, nor whom he fails to have a genuine connection with. Beauty alone won’t be enough to win him over.

Saying that however.. He can’t seem to stop thinking about the strikingly gorgeous girl he saw from the window. He feels himself a hypocrite, saying it takes more than good looks to win his heart, and yet still finding himself hung up on the mysterious beauty in the window. He looks up to that window, and sees nothing- the curtains are drawn, the room pitch dark, and there’s a part of him that considers the dame’s words true. There is no third girl, and what he saw was perhaps a phantom, a trick of the light, a mysterious cousin, or..

Well, he doesn’t know what, but he can’t allow himself to continue to linger on a girl that may not even be real, or obtainable if she does exist. "What's going on with you tonight? You never have a good time at these things, but you've been more off than is.. typical of you," Chris suddenly speaks up after Hyunjin sighs once more, and the prince frowns as he looks to his attendant.

A lot weighs on his mind; more than he feels he can even begin to explain. The way Hyunjin's thoughts swim in his head like a whirlpool- can he even begin to express himself in a way that is coherent and understandable to his most trusted attendant? Regardless, he has to start somewhere, and so he tries. “I’m afraid that I’ll never find what I’m looking for. Those girls were.. vapid to say the least. I’ve no interest in marrying a social climber, but.. I am beginning to think that perhaps I have no choice.”

Chris' expression softens as he offers Hyunjin a gentle, reassuring pat on the shoulder. There is little he can do to make the prince feel better about his circumstance, he knows; he often has to remind Hyunjin to keep his royal duty in mind, and though it doesn't always show, he does feel bad that the prince is forced into such a situation.

It can't be easy bearing such a burden, and Chris certainly doesn't envy the struggle to find a bride under such constraints, or the responsibilities that will come to Hyunjin once he is wed. “Well, don’t fret too hard about that just yet. We still have a few more interested parties we’ve yet to meet. And maybe the universe wants to show you the wrong first, so that when you meet who is right.. you’ll know,” Chris says earnestly, trying his best to show the prince support.

"Mm, maybe," Hyunjin mumbles, desperately hoping his attendant is right. He hoped you would be that right person, but if fate deems it right to show him heartache and to put him through trials before happiness can come to him then he will just have to accept that. Chris frowns, but knows there is not much else he can offer to ease the prince's worries; so he instead turns his attention to the carriage to check on the progress for departure.

“Looks like we’re ready to depart,” Chris says after the coachman finishes adorning the carriage with lanterns suitable for the night ride back to the castle, "Maybe you'll feel better after some rest. And if you'd like, we can talk some more about this tomorrow." Hyunjin simply nods, following his attendant to the carriage with an immense weight still on his shoulders.

Despite what he logically knows, he can't shake his sadness over the fact that his burden wasn't lifted this evening, the irrational sorrow that comes from his hopes being dashed- that the beautiful girl he saw in the window could not be met.. But he tries to think that maybe it’s for the best that there wasn’t a third daughter for him to meet after all. Given the influence of their mother, she’d likely have been just as bad as her sisters, and that would’ve surely broken his heart beyond the ache he feels now.

Chris approaches the left-side door first, opening it swiftly and then standing to the side, motioning for Hyunjin to enter first, as is customary. Hyunjin places a hand on the doorframe and a foot on the iron step, ready to step inside in the carriage, but takes one last glance at the manor before he does. And there, a glimmer of hope- the image of you, just barely there peeking through the curtains, the faint light of a candle flickering in your hand.

Though a considerable distance away, he can see your eyes widen when you realize he sees you yet again, gasping and quickly moving away from the window, the light of your candle disappearing with your image. “She’s there!” Hyunjin exclaims, instantly separating himself from the carriage, and taking an unconscious step back towards the manor. “Who’s there?” Chris questions as he follows Hyunjin’s gaze to the window, confused to, again, find absolutely no one and nothing of note.

"I.. don't know who exactly, but she was there, I saw her," Hyunjin continues, and while Chris is still utterly baffled, he does see that the curtains are slightly swaying despite the window being closed- meaning someone was there, and caused them to shift by either touching them, or walking past them. He looks back to Chris, sees the hesitant, puzzled expression, and tries to explain himself in the briefest, but most concise way possible.

“I saw her in the window when we first arrived too! I asked the dame about her, thinking she may have had another daughter, but you heard how she reacted- she brushed me off so coldly.” "Well.. maybe she was telling the truth? It's possible she's simply a maid," Chris suggests, but Hyunjin quickly shakes his head. "She isn't. I assure you, after seeing their maids I wouldn't confuse her for one.. She's entirely unlike any of them."

"Okay.. So she's not a maid. But there could still be a reasonable explanation for everything," Chris says, and oh no, he can instantly tell where Hyunjin's mind is going. "Exactly! So I'm going to meet her, and find out what that reason is," Hyunjin says, wasting no time in walking back up to the manor. “What? How exactly do you plan on doing that when the dame clearly didn’t want you to meet her?” Chris quietly exclaims as he follows Hyunjin towards the direction of your window.

“There’s a trellis near her window, and I intend to climb it,” Hyunjin smiles, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable plan and not at all insane for him to do. “Go back to the carriage, and instruct the coachman to drive it down the road and out of sight. I don’t want the ladies of the house to know I’m still here if they happen to look out from their windows,” Hyunjin instructs, and again, Chris is absolutely floored by the prince. “Your Highness, you- you can’t be serious,” he quietly exclaims again, though he can tell Hyunjin is entirely serious about all of this.

"Just do this for me, please? I need to do this- for my peace of mind if nothing else," Hyunjin tells him, and though Chris still doesn't understand why the prince is so adamant about meeting you, he can see the sincerity and the drive in his eyes, and so he concedes. “Fine, just.. try to be discreet and don’t take too long, okay? And don’t make her uncomfortable!” Chris warns and Hyunjin thanks his attendant warmly before turning his attention back to your window.

He approaches the manor carefully, tiptoeing up to the trellis that will act as his ladder to your window. He places a foot into one of the slots and carefully adds his weight, making sure it’ll hold before he begins to climb it in earnest. He’s never done anything like this, but he knows he’d regret it if he didn’t at least try to meet the woman who so easily captured his heart with just a glance, while desperately, and maybe vainly, hoping he has a chance with you.

Hyunjin knocks softly on the window once he reaches it, doing his best to make it loud enough for you to hear, but not so loud that he would alarm anyone who may be nearby. Though your room is dark, the moon offers just enough illumination through the curtains that he can make you out. And while unlit, you are still holding the candle in one hand, while the other is nervously placed over your heart.

You can't believe this happening- the devastatingly handsome man meant to be wooed by one of your sisters saw you again, and is now at your window? Your heart is racing out of control, you don't know what to do or what to think seeing him there, waiting for you to approach the window, approach him.

You didn't even expect to see him again when you stepped to your window and peeked out; you simply saw lantern light from your window whilst preparing for bed, and it piqued your interest. You wanted to know what was going on, of course you did, so you looked, fully expecting the answer to be guards doing an uncharacteristically late sweep of the grounds, or maids sneaking out to meet the secret lovers you knew them to have.

But what you saw instead was the beautiful man from earlier in the process of stepping inside his grand carriage- and as if sensing you were watching, he turned to the manor, his eyes instantly falling on you. Just as you had this evening, you gasped and quickly shuffled away from the window, blowing out your candle as your heart pounded in your chest. Several seconds passed, and with trembling steps, you stepped back to the window and took one more cautious glance outside, only to see him approaching the manor, clearly intending to seek you out.

You gasped again, moving away from the window once more, mind reeling and pulse quickening. And now he’s here, having clearly climbed the trellis up to your window, hope in his eyes as he looks at you and waits. Swallowing, you carefully set the candle down on your nearby nightstand before you take cautious steps back towards the window, opening it ever so slightly. “May I come in?” he asks quietly, likely recognizing that speaking at full volume would be unwise, “I wish to speak with you.”

His voice is as silky and pretty as you imagined, and it positively jolts you. Everything about him seems impossibly perfect- part of you thinks that you've must've already fallen asleep, that you're tucked in bed and having a vivid dream based on the events of the day. But no, you've never dreamed as vividly as this, and you'd certainly remember if you'd crawled into bed after checking the lantern light from the window.

And that leaves you with a dilemma; the man, as gorgeous as he is, is still a stranger- and certainly you can't just let a strange man enter your room through your window.. That goes against everything your father ever taught you about safety. So you hesitate, observing him carefully for a moment.

And maybe it's just the fact that he's beautiful, or your yearning for connection that makes you want to trust him, even if it makes no logical sense to do so. You can't help but think he looks genuine and sincere, and well.. you can't ignore how desperately you desire to talk to someone, anyone, for more than the brief amount you're allowed to with your maids. Still, even if you crave connection with someone, you should be careful who you speak to shouldn't you?

He notices the hesitancy, recognizes what kind of situation he's imposing on you, and so he speaks up again, "Or I can stay here and we just talk through the window? If that's okay with you." Hyunjin knows he's being unreasonable and getting way too ahead of himself in his desire to speak with you, and it's crucial that he does his utmost to show you that he has no intention of making you uncomfortable.

Really, you should turn him down; but logic has left you, and truth be told you don't entirely trust that he can stand at the top of the trellis and support his own weight for much longer. So, you open your window further, granting him permission to step inside in your bedroom. He crawls in through your window as quietly as he can manage, smiling at you when he's fully inside. His smile is timid, and a bit awkward- this is easily the most nervous he’s ever felt, and he knows he’s going about meeting you completely backwards, but what other choice did he have?

Your mother, aunt, or whoever she is to you- he doubts she would’ve allowed him the chance to meet you. Her words and body language were much too passive aggressive to lead him to believe she’d meet the request to speak with you kindly, nor does he think she'd take kindly to being insinuated a liar. Additionally, it was highly unlikely that she’d willingly and truthfully divulge information about you or answer his questions. And so it led him to this- his fateful first meeting with the girl of his dreams happening within her moonlit bedroom.

He's completely out of his depth and unsure of himself or anything he's doing, but he holds out his palm, offering for you to place your hand in his. You blink, look up and down between his hand and his patient expression, and then you remember- oh, right, proper introductions. The setting is unorthodox, but it seems he still has it in mind to be polite and correct; as much as is possible, anyways.

You hesitate a moment, but ultimately place your hand in his, and he bows to you, lifting your hand to his mouth and placing a chaste kiss just above the knuckle. It's a simple, proper greeting, one that most people your age are entirely accustomed to, but it's been so long since you experienced it that it makes your skin erupt in goosebumps and heart thump erratically in your chest.

And there's the fact that he's jaw droppingly gorgeous- that certainly doesn't help.

You do your best to collect yourself when he straightens back up and looks at you once more. "I'm Hyunjin," he tells you in case you don't know, voice still as soft as it was at your window, a near whisper, "would you tell me your name, please?" This whole thing is entirely out of order and backwards, but you politely curtsey after offering him your name, though it feels silly to do so in your night chemise. And something about the way he looks at you makes your face burn hotter than it ever has.

All he’s heard is you speak your name, but he already considers your voice to be just as pretty as you are- he hopes he’ll get to hear it far beyond this single night. "If I may, I want to ask.. Do you know who I am? Or why I came here today?" He asks, looking directly into your eyes as he awaits your answer. You swallow, the eye contact making your heart skip a beat and pulse climb, but you steady yourself the best you can to answer. "You're.. a suitor who came to meet my sisters. But I didn't know your name until you told me it."

Hyunjin's eyes flicker with unfamiliar emotion as he takes in your answer- he knew it! You're no ordinary girl, nor a housemaid with an unusually lavish room. And what strikes him, apart from the confirmation that you're related to the girls he met downstairs, is what you said about him. You didn't know his name, don't know who he is apart from a potential suitor to your sisters.

He still doesn't understand why you weren't allowed to meet him, but it gives him hope- that if you are unwed, your love can be genuine. You won't marry him for title or wealth or power, but for who he is as a person. In the 4 corners of your bedroom, his name holds no weight, and that's all he's ever wanted.

But he should ask now, before he gets too ahead of himself and breaks his own heart, or lets a leap in logic carry him far beyond where rationality can reach him- ask if you are already promised to another. "Are you betrothed?" Hyunjin asks, and you quickly shake your head, surprised by the way he smiles in a mix of joy and relief to know you are unwed. Is that.. a good thing?

You're not even sure why you shook your head so vehemently when he first asked, as if you wanted there to be no mistake. Why would it matter to him if you are going to be married to someone or not? But something about his smile tells you it matters to him very much, though it is impossible for you to fathom why that could be. "Why do you ask..?" you question hesitantly, unsure of what you even hope to hear in response.

"Since I first saw you in the window, I've wanted to know you," he tells you earnestly, and your heart once again skips a beat. You knew he saw you, and you knew that were he perceptive enough to tell you aren't a maid he'd likely have questions about you or lingering curiosity. But it still surprises you that he shows this much interest- that it's more to him than just a passing question he'd be content to forget about in a day's time.

“Why didn’t you ask my mother then?” you ask him, though you suspect you know the answer. It’s not that he’s trying to solve a mystery or investigate why a seemingly innocuous girl is tucked away out of sight from visitors- and while you’re sure he’d welcome the answers to such questions, it’s more than that. For some strange reason, it’s just you- you as a person that he wants to know.

And you don’t know what to do with that. Your existence is so often ignored and trivialized, you can’t begin to understand why a glance of you in the window is enough to drive him to seek you out. You can’t understand what it is about you that is worth this, worth the curiosity and the climb to your window. Why would anyone want to speak to you so badly? You’re not special enough to warrant this.

“I did ask, and I didn’t like the answer,” Hyunjin says, and you blink in surprise. You can easily imagine that your step-mother would dismiss your existence when asked about you, or say something along the lines of “she doesn’t matter,” or “don’t worry about her, she’s nobody,”- so it’s not that that surprises you. What surprises you is that he heard an answer and not only didn’t accept it, but said he didn’t like it. Why?

Try as you might, you can't understand his motivations. Even if he could tell there was more that your step-mother wasn't telling him, why does he care so much about who you are? All visitors before Hyunjin who have stolen a glance at you either never asked about you, or have accepted her answers at face value, and it made sense that they did- because what reason did they have to push for the truth, or meet you regardless of her wishes?

“I’m interested in you, and I didn’t believe what I was told. I want to know you,” he continues, reiterates his sentiment, and you feel utterly frozen. All you can manage to do is blink up at him, your breath and words caught in your throat. And you realize your hand still rests in his, and you’re sure he can feel the way it trembles- from confusion, from nerves, from the simple act of even being held by someone for the first time since you were a child. But he doesn’t let go, and you don’t take it away- because he’s interested in you, and you want to know what that means, want to cling to the possibility that you can have the companionship that has eluded you for years.

“But.. why?” you finally ask, mind reeling from the possibilities. Regardless of what your step-mother may have told him, there’s one thing that she’s never wrong about- that you’re nobody, nothing, that your existence is a hindrance and you’re better off shoved aside where you can’t impose on her. You used to challenge that thought, but you’ve long since lost the will to fight against it, often finding yourself believing it to be true. And since you’re not special, or important, or particularly pretty, why is he so interested in you? You just don’t get it.

"If you'll forgive me for being forward.. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. And I know it's presumptuous of me, and perhaps shallow, to want to meet you so badly for that alone but.. I couldn't let the image of you go. I had to take the chance to find out who you are," Hyunjin spills his thoughts freely, making his desires and motivations clear.

And just as before, it leaves you completely stunned. What he's saying.. that can't be right. You? The most beautiful he's ever seen? That feels like something you should be saying to him- Hyunjin is easily the most radiant and ethereal person you've ever seen, but he's saying all this about you?

You're rendered speechless, face burning impossibly hot as the words repeat themself in your mind on a loop. "I've got to go," he continues, slowly letting go of your hand as he prepares to return to the window, "but I want- I hope you’ll allow me to see you again." I hope you'll give me a chance to win your heart, he wants to add, but he's already been much more forward than he'd ever imagined himself to be, and he doesn't want to jeopardize anything that might be budding.

He steps back to the window and you follow, watching as he readies himself to climb back down the trellis he used to reach you. "We'll meet again?" he asks after settling his weight on the trellis, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. It feels foolish, and a bit naive to wish so hard that you'll desire to see him again; all he can do now is hope the impression he made is enough to allow you defy your sense of logic, just as you've done to him simply by looking his way.

You smile softly, the first smile you've shown him, the first you've done in God knows how long- and you nod as you promise him you will. You don't know how it will work or where it will lead, if anywhere, but you think you'd regret it if you didn't at least try. You miss companionship, you miss having someone to talk to, you miss smiling and the feeling of comfort and joy that comes from being close with someone who understands and knows you. You don't want to let this opportunity to have someone in your life slip you by.

Hyunjin's heart jumped when you smiled at him, and he returned the smile brightly as he said his goodbyes, heart still thumping and smile still plastered on his face as he descended the trellis. He looks back to the window, waving to you when he sees you watching from between the curtains, a giddy feeling building in his stomach when you wave back. Following the dirt road away from the manor, he meets back up with Chris at the carriage, happily relaying everything that happened to him on their way back to the castle.

You retired to your bed once Hyunjin was out of sight, but found it hard to sleep following your interactions. Curled up under the blankets, eyes closed and heavy, ready to sleep, but mind racing and replaying the night's events. There's a chance that this is a mistake, but you don't think you'll regret having taken the chance- because the hope and joy you feel now is the most delightful feeling you've experienced since you were a girl, and that feeling alone is worth whatever trouble it may bring your way.

It's hard to explain in words the emotions that come from having Hyunjin close to you. From having just a few short months ago gone from spending your nights restless from loneliness, to now lying awake in bed wondering if tonight will be one of the nights you hear his tap on your window. Going from hardly ever speaking a word, to now talking so much that your throat aches. To never feeling the warmth of another, to lingering touches and reluctant parting of held hands heating your skin.

You suppose what you can say is that it feels like the hole in your heart is being mended; a void wrenched open by loss and sadness slowly repaired with each clandestine meeting you share. It's bittersweet, sometimes; your melancholy was easier to ignore when you didn't have someone to share your thoughts and feelings with. It’s strange, how gaining what you were missing makes the bad in your life hurt much worse. It awakens a new fear within you- that one day, Hyunjin will tire of you, and you'll be alone once more.

As if knowing your fears, irrational or not, Hyunjin makes it no secret how he feels about you, or what he hopes the two of you may become. Besides, the very reason he first came to the manor was to answer a marriage proposal- so of course he makes it clear how much he likes you. And though you're aware of his feelings, you don't feel any sort of pressure or expectation from him, nor does he ever make you uncomfortable. You get the distinct impression that should you ever reject him, Hyunjin would move on gracefully, even if it weighed heavily on his heart.

All that being said, he hasn't blatantly asked you to be his bride yet, though it is obvious he wishes to. And putting aside what is rational, proper, or logical, you don't think you'd turn him down were he to ask you now. Hyunjin has become the highlight of your days, the hope that keeps you going when loneliness and sadness acutely strike you. He's radiant and intelligent and effortlessly witty; and you can still remember the way his eyes lit up the first time he made you laugh.

You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing too loudly, and Hyunjin's eyes crinkled as his smile beamed. He told you it was the prettiest sound he'd ever heard, that happiness suited you much more than sadness, that he hoped you'd smile and laugh more than you'd frown. And you think as long as you're with him, that'll be an easy promise to keep.

You've confided in him much of your life, your thoughts, and your feelings. He's an attentive listener, as well as empathetic and compassionate. And while you're sure to most it's the bare minimum, it felt nice to be listened to for once; to cry openly without being ignored, or mocked on the off chance you were acknowledged. It was nice to be held and gently consoled as you let out years worth of pent up tears flow out, though by the end you were always greatly embarrassed by your red eyes and puffy face.

Hyunjin, who wasn't fond of your step-mother from the start, liked her even less after you'd explained what you'd gone through following the loss of your father. It was interesting, as well as vindicating, hearing in detail his first impression of her, and how accurately he pin-pointed her personality and motivations. He told you he was used to dealing with people such as her, and his ability to nail her down was proof enough of that.

That's why he likes you, he said; likes that you're nothing like your step-mother, or step-sisters, or the countless other people he's met that hold the same motivations and values as them. There was no denying that his attraction to you started with your appearance, he admitted so himself right from the start, but you believe him when he says he's not superficial enough to marry for looks alone.

Whether you're as pretty as he says you are is still a matter of contention within yourself, but you try not to reject the compliments; especially not when he speaks them so earnestly. You don't find yourself special, but maybe it's enough that he does. And you recognize that everything about your relationship with Hyunjin is unconventional, but you don't dwell much on it.

You never would've had the chance to meet someone normally, and you welcome the solace and joy he brings you just by being near. When you think further upon how close the two of you have become, you wonder if words like "friend" or "companion" are enough. You wonder if this is what it means to be in love, if longing and desire and joy are really as hand in hand as they were always portrayed in your novels.

His tap on your window comes earlier than you expect it to today, elation spreading through your veins instantly as you rush to the window to open it for him. Normally, Hyunjin doesn't come to you until the sun has long since fallen, but tonight he arrives while the last specs of sunset still linger on the horizon. "You're early," you comment simply, a small smile spreading on your lips as he steps his way inside to your bedroom.

"Couldn't wait anymore," he replies, meeting you with a soft smile of his own. Summer brought with it longer days, which meant longer waits for Hyunjin to arrive at your window, and less time spent together before he had to rush back to his home. He pulls you into an embrace, gentle and warm, and you squeeze him tight for a small moment before you allow yourself to melt in his arms.

His hands rest comfortably on your back, lingering even as you pull slightly away to look up at him. "Your hair has gotten longer," you muse, taking a soft strand into your hand and admiring it between your fingers. "Has it?" he asks, having not noticed himself; it's hard to notice subtle changes considering he sees it everyday. "Do you like it?" he follows up, ever so slightly tilting his head as he awaits your answer.

"I do," you reply as you let it fall from your fingertips, now letting your hand fall to his shoulder, "it's pretty." He hums in response, smile turning bashful. Since becoming more comfortable in his presence, you speak your mind more openly, which also means he receives more compliments from you. There's a shyness that lingers, a blush often overtaking your cheeks after an admittance of finding him pretty, or handsome, or beautiful, but it never stops you from saying what you truly think.

Hyunjin is used to receiving compliments; and it's not meant to sound vain, but that's the reality of being the prince. And because he is used to them, he is normally unaffected by such words; but with you it's different. He isn't blind, of course, he knows he's conventionally attractive- but it's the intent of the words that matter. Unlike others he's met, you are genuine and sincere. You don't speak with ulterior motives, you don't say things unless you earnestly mean them.

So, when you say he's pretty, he takes great pride in it; because you aren't saying it out of a sense of obligation or gain. You just like him, and he likes you- that's all there is to your interactions. The affection you share is the realest thing he's ever felt, refreshing and authentic.

You know he's the prince, though he hasn't yet told you himself; you overheard your sisters speaking about it to each other just a few days after their arranged meeting. They were by your door, loud voices carrying and infiltrating your space. You think you were meant to hear it- vain and confident in themselves as they are, you suspect they wanted to rub it in that one of them would marry the prince.

Not that you cared- unbeknownst to them, you already met him yourself, and you’re the one the prince really shows interest in. And his identity shocked you at first, but as you thought about it more, it made sense; his impressive carriage, his elegant attire, the way he carried himself and spoke, why you thought you recognized his family crest- it all clicked.

Given all you've learned about him, what he thinks about the world and what he values, it makes sense that he wouldn't tell you right away, and you don't hold it against him. Going your whole life questioning the motives of others, and perceptively picking up on their dishonesty.. it must be hard. You can't even imagine it.

In turn, Hyunjin can't imagine how hard your own sufferings have been, his heart aching terribly for you whenever you put your sadness to words. There's a strange sort of comfort that comes from it however; your lived experiences being so entirely different, but aligning in just a way that leads you to understand one another.

Still, there were many times that Hyunjin wished the solutions to your problems were easy- that he could just use his authority as prince of the realm to give you your life back. Unfortunately, he thinks his interference would only make things worse for you; wish as he may that he could simply order your step-mother to be kinder to you, there's no way he can do so without great risk to your well-being.

It's frustrating and saddening to realize how little his power can do to help the one he cares most deeply for. There were equally times he wishes he could just take you away from all that hurts you; but until you either agree to wed him, or he becomes king after marrying another, he has no authority over who may or may not reside in the castle.

His greatest hope, of course, is that you'll wish to marry him. He doesn't even want to think about the devastation that will be wrought upon him should you reject him. You like each other, that much is true and plainly obvious, but marriage, especially to someone destined to rule, may not be something you want. And besides that, he's always wanted his marriage to have real affection tied to it- and until he knows definitively where your heart lies, he will be patient.

Though they sound like complaints, Hyunjin actually loves the progression of your relationship. Yes, it saddens him that as things stand now he can't remove you from the source of your pain or change things, but there is an equal amount of good that has come from his experiences climbing to your window.

His heart beats fast and erratic whenever you look at him and smile, your soft, small giggles and sweet laughs make his ears and face burn pleasantly. It doesn't always show, given his natural charisma and learned manners, but you fluster him more than you realize. His brain stutters when you compliment him, his body crawls with goosebumps when you initiate a hug or hold his hand, he unconsciously holds his breath when your face ever comes slightly too close to his own.

Though his father still urges him to bring home a bride sooner rather than later, he has managed to quell his father's worries by describing his affection for you. It's also what allows him to regularly leave the castle to meet you, with Chris himself also attesting to how genuine the prince's infatuation for you is.

And it's moments like this, when you're in his arms and looking up at him with your soft doe eyes and sweet smile that he feels the urge to kiss you the most. Before he can think about it much longer, you're separating from his hold, grabbing his hand and leading him to your bed with a softly spoken, "Shall we?"

It's your routine when he visits to sit or lie in your bed together, talking endlessly until the time comes that he has to depart. Sometimes you fall asleep, in which case he just indulges in the feeling of holding you close, stroking your head until the chirp of birds begins with the start of the sunrise, alerting him it's time to go.

Sometimes talking is too hard, and all you want is to feel him close and let your negative feelings wash away in his hold, and let them be replaced by his warmth. Sometimes you run out of things to say and simply enjoy each other's company in comfortable silence. Oftentimes, Hyunjin just being in your space with you is all you need to be happy.

There's an unspoken hope there that you share- that someday soon you'll be able to fall asleep together, to wake together, to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, for every moment to be spent with the person that rouses your once dormant heart. There’s still part of you that questions if you can really be loved by someone as good as him, but it’s what you hope for more than you’ve ever hoped for anything.

"Wait-" Hyunjin calls softly as you begin to step towards the bed, and you stop, turning back to look at him with a curious tilt of the head and questioning eyes. He swallows, beginning to lose his nerve as you stare at him. He wants to tell you how badly he wants to kiss you, to ask if it's something you'll allow him, if you crave it as much as he does.

"What is it?" you ask, squeezing his hand when you feel the slight anxious tremble. His face reddens, and he internally curses himself for having such difficulty. He once felt it was entirely unlike him to be reduced to such shyness, but you bring it out of him with just a look. "I just.. uh, well-" he starts, but before he can get much further, you hear a sound from the hallway that makes you jump.

"Shit-" you mutter in a harsh whisper, the sound of a metal object clinking just outside your door. Hyunjin doesn't realize what it is just yet, but the sound is one you can instantly recognize- it's the sound of your step-mother taking the padlock into her hands. You scramble to push Hyunjin in the direction of your bathroom as you hear the lock begin to turn, afterwards standing near your open window as calmly and naturally as you can manage.

Hyunjin doesn't have any time to think about what's happening, or to dwell on the sound he heard outside your door before he hears it start to swing open. All he can do is hide himself behind your bathroom door, and pray that whoever is entering your bedroom has no reason to step inside your bathroom.

Your step-mother enters your room with suspicion clear on her face, looking around the room with narrow eyes and scrunched brows. You take a quick, cautious glance towards your bathroom, relieved to notice that Hyunjin isn't in immediate sight. Thank God, you think; you don't know how she'd react to seeing the prince inside your bedroom, and you don't want to find out.

"Who are you talking to?" she asks, taking a stern step closer to you. You swallow down your nerves the best you can as you prepare yourself to answer- you can't give her any reason to suspect you're lying. "I was talking to the birds," you answer, pointing to where a nest of them rests on the tree nearest to your window.

The family of birds are settling in for sleep now that the sun has sunk, and you hope your step-mother finds it believable enough that you'd talk to them as they ready themselves for bed. Her eyes follow where you point, easily spotting the birds beginning to tuck their heads down, and she scoffs. She could've sworn she heard another voice replying to you but.. that'd be impossible, wouldn't it? Who would even be here talking to you?

Yes, though she hates to admit when she's wrong, she was likely just mistaken. The other voice she thought she heard was likely just you supplementing a conversation you wish you could be having with another person. There were never two people- just you, and the lonely life she inflicts upon you. So she smiles, condescending as ever as she speaks, "Yes, well. I suppose that's all you can do."

Your step-mother takes one more cursory glance around your room before she decides she's satisfied and turns to exit your bedroom. You breathe a sigh of relief when she finally steps out the door, and Hyunjin steps out from your bathroom just as the sound of the lock on your bedroom door clicks shut. He recognizes what it is more clearly after hearing the sound of the lock a second time, and his heart sinks at the realization of what that sound means.

"Hyunjin?" you whisper in question as he walks right past you, heading straight for your closed bedroom door. He takes the doorknob in his hand, twists it and pushes the door- and what he feared to be true is immediately confirmed. The door doesn't open, harshly stopped as the lock clanks against the door from the motion of it trying to be opened- you're locked in. Why are you locked in?

When he turns back to you, you say nothing; just look at him with those deeply saddened eyes that twists his heart into knots. "You're.. are you always locked in your room?" he asks, though he dreads the answer- and he suspects he already knows. You feel as if you'll sob if you speak, so you don't- you just nod.

His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, a complex mix of sadness and rage on your behalf beginning to boil in his veins. He knew your step-mother to be vindictive, vain, materialistic, mean, but this.. It was a cruelty positively unheard of, and he couldn't fathom why anyone would have so much hatred in their heart as to resort to this.

He clenches his fists, takes a breath, tries to quell the intensity of his anger before he steps back to you. Your eyes have fallen to the floor, head hung low, hands balled into fists. Hyunjin softly calls your name once he's returned to your side, and you look up at him, eyes glassy as you blink away the tears that try to form. He wraps his arms around you, pulls you to his chest and hugs you tight.

Your reaction is delayed, the complex whir of emotions dulling your senses, but you eventually return the hug. You hold him the tightest you ever have, your hands gripping and bunching the fabric of his linen shirt. Carefully, Hyunjin leads you to your bed, where he knows you find the most comfort. You crawl into bed as soon as he pulls back the blankets, practically curling into a ball as soon as your head hits the pillow.

Hyunjin lies next to you, pulls the blankets up to your chests once he's settled, holding you once more after you move in closer. You press yourself close to him, curling your limbs around his, clinging to him in a desperate need to stay as close as possible. Head pressed into his chest, he softly strokes your head, whispering comforts to you until he feels your body begin to lose its built tension.

Now more than ever, Hyunjin is firm in his belief that he can't let things stay this way- there has to be some way he can use his power to help you. He doesn't want to walk away after knowing the true depth of all that you suffer, he wouldn't forgive himself if he did. Again, he calls to you softly, and when you look up at him he asks, "Do you want to leave? Get away from here?"

You blink, processing the question and wondering how you should answer. Unfortunately, the answer isn't an entirely simple yes or no. The truth is, you wish you didn't have to; this is your father’s manor, the house you grew up in, and though you've suffered greatly since his passing, you find it hard to let go of the happy memories that came before the tragedy.

Despite that, even if he were still here now, it is true that you'd have to leave eventually; you'd marry someday, and married women always leave their childhood homes behind when they wed. Still, when you think of never seeing the manor again, of never returning to your childhood bedroom or talking again with the maids who helped raise you, you feel impossibly sad.

You wish you didn't feel so tied to your home, but it's hard to let go, even when you know it is what's best for you. Additionally, when you did let your mind wander and think about what sort of life you'd lead if you ran away, you realized you were impossibly scared of the world. You've been locked away for so long that you don't remember the way to the places you once recognized, all your connections have been severed, and getting to the castle city, even if you did remember the way, would take days on foot.

Add the fact that you'd have no money, and no way to prepare food for the trip without getting caught, you never let yourself entertain the thought of running away past the occasional frivolous daydream. Sure, you could climb from your window and leave without getting caught, but you could never convince yourself that it was worth trying.

But now you have someone, don't you? Someone who cares about you, who would help you find your way in the vast world you've been kept away from, someone who doesn't want to sit idly by and let you suffer any longer. All you've done since meeting Hyunjin is hope- and the more you look at him and see how vividly he cares, you think that maybe your hope isn’t misplaced. That maybe the life you’ve always wished for is actually obtainable if only you just try.

"If I leave.. where would I go?" you can't help but ask now that you are entertaining the thought of fleeing from the source of your suffering. Realistically, you know there is no way you can do this without Hyunjin's help, and you're sure he knows this too, but you don't want to ask too much of him. You're thankful to have him to rely on, but you don't want to impose- so it's imperative to you that he offers first, so that you don't feel as if you're burdening him.

"Stay with me," he offers without any hint of hesitation, "even if we never wed, even if you never desire me the way I desire you, stay with me." Hyunjin takes your hands in his, squeezes them in his as he continues, "I promise, you’ll never have to suffer again as long as you are in the castle. Please, leave this place with me.”

Your heart skips and stutters, emotion crawls back up your spine and pricks your skin, hitching your breath. And shit, Hyunjin realizes what he just said- he got ahead of himself, and brought up that he lives in the castle. He wanted to admit the truth of his identity carefully, but now.. well, he supposes if you agreed to leave with him, it would've come out tonight regardless.

Still, he stutters as he tries to explain himself- how it was never intended to be a lie he kept from you. How he doesn't often have the chance to meet people who don't already know his status so when you didn't recognize him, it made him happy. How he enjoyed that you could talk to him without pretense, how refreshing it was to him and how it was exactly what he needed, what he'd been looking for.

You smile, even giggle a bit once he gets really deep into his spiraling ramble of explanations. He stops then, nervously giggling back when you squeeze his hands and tell him to slow down, that you understand him completely. "I knew," you tell him after a moment, "well, not the whole time- I didn't find out until later. But I didn't bring up that I knew because it didn't change anything for me. I never cared that you're the prince. To me, you're just Hyunjin."

God, the relief that spreads through his body at your words- a massive weight has lifted from his shoulders. And the confusion you felt about why someone like him could ever fancy you so much- you feel like you understand more now why he likes you, and it helps ease the burden of your self-doubt. You sit up from the bed, looking down at Hyunjin with a timid, yet eager smile.

"Let's go," you tell him, and he quickly sits up with you, a bright smile of his own plastered on his face. "Right now? You're sure?" he asks, trying (and failing) to hide the excitement in his voice. You nod, and he positively beams, ready to help you with everything you need. You don't have many bags, much less ones suited for travel- so you settle for choosing the largest of them all.

Hyunjin helps you back the things you can't bear to part with; old gifts from your father, sentimental pieces you can't bear to part with, the blanket your mother knitted for you when you were still growing inside- you stuff your bag to the brim with your most precious belongings. It's heavy by the time you're done, and Hyunjin takes it and slings it around his shoulders, promising to treat it with care until it's delivered safely to the carriage. "Are you ready?" he asks after you both approach the window, and you pause, turning around to take one last look at your bedroom.

Once you leave, you'll never be back, and with that comes strange, new and complex feelings. But you think it's more than past time you left this place behind, and made a new place your home- a place where you are free to be happy and to exist without guilt. "I'm ready," you affirm as you turn back to the window, and Hyunjin smiles and nods, giving your hand one last reassuring squeeze before he lets it go to climb out of your window.

Hyunjin steadies his weight on the trellis, and you lean out of your window to check how far down the ground is- and shit, you might be afraid of heights if the way your stomach drops is any indicator. "I'll wait for you at the bottom," he tells you after noticing the apprehensive look in your eyes, and you nod with an anxious swallow. Hyunjin has done this a million times at this point- you can do it too! No problem!

Of course, Hyunjin makes the climb look effortless, but you suspect you won't have nearly as easy of a time climbing down. Once he's finished his climb, he takes a few steps back to see you clearly when he looks up, smiling at you encouragingly. You take a breath to steel your nerves before you take a cautious step out of your window, carefully finding your footing on the trellis before adding your weight- the same way you saw him do it.

You descend much, much slower than Hyunjin did, impossibly terrified of losing your footing and falling to the dirt below. When you finally reach the bottom, you let out a massive sigh of relief, and Hyunjin pulls you into a hug, beaming as he squeezes you- he's proud of you, you think.

His joy adds to your own, so much so that you can't help but show it. Leaning closer, standing on the tips of your toes, you kiss his cheek- a way to tell him thank you, to show him how much you like him, and to convey how happy you are with him. He blushes ever so slightly as his smile grows, a giddy feeling once again building in his stomach.

"When all this is behind us, and you're safe at the castle with me.. Can I kiss you?" he finds the courage to ask, your face flushing as you smile and nod. "I'll look forward to it," you tell him, and you raise your pinky to him, intending for it to be a promise. With a soft chuckle, he interlocks his pinky with yours, happily solidifying the promise.

"This way," he tells you shortly after, separating your pinkies to take your hand in his, and lead you to where the carriage awaits him down the dirt road, and away from the manor. You take a final glance back at it as you walk with him, whisper goodbyes to all the things you'll miss, to your father most of all.

As the carriage comes into sight, it really sets in how real all of this is- how with this night, your life will become completely different. You wonder how everyone will react when your maids enter your room in the morning and find that you aren't there- part of you is sad you can't bid them goodbye personally, but you hope they'll be happy for you and wish you well.

You hear the coachman call to Hyunjin's attendant as you step closer, informing him with surprise in his voice that he is back earlier than expected- and with you. His attendant, who you know as Chris, and have heard many stories about, steps out of the carriage with an almost bewildered expression. He certainly wasn't expecting this to happen tonight.

Hand in hand, Hyunjin continues to lead you up to the now open door of the carriage, with Chris standing next to it. "Are you..?" he asks tentatively as he looks between you both. Together, romantically, you infer him to mean. "We'll discuss it later," Hyunjin says, turning to offer you his usual warm, reassuring smile before he looks back to his attendant, "for now, I'd like you to formally meet the future princess."

Living in the royal castle is something you never would've believed would ever happen to you, and it became your reality in the strangest of ways. To think that a beautiful man came to your window in the night, that said beautiful man wanted to marry you, and was the prince of the realm of all things.. It was confounding how you ended up here.

There's part of you, that even having known the truth for months, still can't seem to wrap your head around Hyunjin being the prince. You suppose it comes down to knowing something and seeing something being entirely different- because though you knew, you never, until now, saw him in his element, so to speak.

Watching him interact with the world behind your small scope was as enlightening as it was affirming; you saw a new side of him, but it was a side that was still firmly Hyunjin. He was eloquent but opinionated in royal discussions, he was kind and grateful to his workers, he was stern when something needed done, but never cruel or overly demanding- again, all you could think was that he’s perfect.

Was Hyunjin getting ahead of himself when he introduced you to his attendant as the future princess? Maybe. But though you haven't said it aloud, you think you fell for him harder since coming to the castle; and being the princess, while a stressful endeavor that requires you to intensively study politics and speech, will be worth it to stay by his side.

The parts of Hyunjin you've come to love the most are the parts you realized are reserved only for very few to see- the part that is wittier than political discussions will allow, who is secretly a bit dramatic when things don’t go his way, a hopeless romantic who clings to the ideals of literature.

And further beyond even that, are the parts of Hyunjin that are for you, and you alone; where natural charisma melts away into bashful sincerity. Whose soft, affectionately spoken words are said with an equal mix of earnesty and boyish timidity. Whose graceful confidence is intermixed with the subtle complexities of shyness and the seeking of your approval.

All these aspects combined are what make him so special to you, and you will be forever grateful that after all the suffering you’ve endured, you are allowed to love someone as good as him, and are loved by him in return. And thanks to his help, not only do you live a life you could have only ever dreamed of, but are adjusting quite well to that new life.

Some things are the same, such as having kind maids who helped you settle and attended to your needs, but then there were things that were entirely different from the life you lived before. You have your own attendant now- a sweet boy that Christopher vouched for named Felix, who Hyunjin affirmed you would be able to trust with your life, as he does with his own attendant. And truly, Felix did quickly become someone you felt like you could rely on and trust; oftentimes, he feels more like a best friend than a royal attendant.

Though he makes sure you stay on top of your studies, and fulfill all tasks you need to have done, you can also easily spend hours giggling away about various things- like how Chris is so serious but also a secret softie underneath, about your relationship with Hyunjin, about Felix’s secret crush that he hopes to confess to after preparations for your wedding to Hyunjin are concluded.

It’ll still be some time before that day comes, as apparently the king is sparing no effort in making it an extravagant event to remember- his only son is being wed, after all; it’s worth the kingdom celebrating to the fullest extent possible. You try not to think about the life you left behind, but you often wonder if your step-mother and sisters have connected the dots between your disappearance from the manor, and the announcement of the prince’s wedding.

If not, she’s certain to realize once the day has arrived; because all reputable families of the kingdom are invited, and she never turns down a royal invitation. The offer to rescind their invitations came up, of course, but you declined- because there’s a part of you that sincerely wants this to strike your step-mother in the core of who she is, and make her reflect on herself. And if it doesn’t, well.. You’ll find some satisfaction in seeing her appalled and infuriated that you’re thriving despite her meddling in your life.

Currently, you and Hyunjin still reside in separate rooms because unwed couples sharing a bed before marriage is deemed inappropriate- not that either of you care; it doesn't stop Hyunjin from sneaking to your room at night, in much the same way he did when you lived back in your father's manor. Sneaking across balconies, quietly climbing over each and every banister until he reaches your room- it's a far cry from the "proper" way a prince is expected to behave, but when it comes to the whims of his heart, he pays no mind to such expectations.

What was once a knock at your window is now a careful tap to the glass of your balcony door, where Hyunjin stands and waits with a shy grin for you to greet him. You never lock the doors, as you're sure he knows- but regardless, he always waits for you to come and let him in yourself. It's just the same tonight- he softly knocks and waits, smiling when he sees you rise from your bed to come to the doors.

"My darling," he greets you sweetly when you open the door, taking your hand and kissing just above the knuckle as he bows to you. You've experienced the greeting what feels like a hundred times over at this point, but it never fails to raise goosebumps on your skin; especially when he looks up at you and smiles before he straightens his back and stands tall once more.

Instead of inviting him inside, you step past the door to stand on the balcony with him, the cool breeze refreshing after having dealt with the heat of the late summer sun prior. He wraps you in his arms, wasting no time in tilting his head down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. His lips on your always fill you with just as many butterflies as the first time, his hands finding their way to your waist causing you to shiver.

"I've missed you," he breathes against your lips before he kisses you again, and you hum as you return the kiss, wordlessly agreeing with the sentiment. Preparing for the wedding makes you both incredibly busy these days, from dress fittings to studying in your case, and readying to ascend the throne in Hyunjin's.

With hardly any free time to yourselves, this is how Hyunjin ensures he gets the chance to spend at least some time with you. Sneaking over to your room, no matter how exhausted the day has made him, because now that you're in the castle with him, he can't go a single night without seeing you, feeling you, at least just once.

And normally, he would follow such a kiss with conversation- ask about your day, what you did and how you're feeling, what preparations for the wedding were done today, etcetera. But for whatever reason, right now he just wants to keep kissing you, over and over again, for as long as you'll allow him.

Maybe it’s because the last few nights he hardly got to see you for more than a few moments, leading to greater longing. Maybe it’s because the wedding looming closer makes the reality that you’re together feel so much more real- you’re his, and he’s yours, and there’s so much beauty in being in love, in promising that you’ll remain together no matter the years that pass or challenges that come.

Your arms wrap around his neck, your body pressing closer into his, and it’s almost criminal how much that simple of an action makes his head spin. You’re a clingy lover- not that Hyunjin minds by any means; he loves it, in fact. He loves feeling wanted and desired by you, and the way you crave and seek out his touch; the problem, so to speak, is the way his body reacts to your close proximity. It’s.. an indecent reaction- one that he has to do his best to contain, lest he do something improper and act gracelessly.

Still, you tempt him- with doe-eyed looks, pouting lips and gentle caresses to bare skin. He desires you, wants to lay your bare and look upon every inch of your body, to feel you naked beneath his fingertips- but he can’t, not yet. And so instead, he has to make a conscious effort to not linger on such thoughts, to swallow them down until the time is right. But the more time he spends with you, the more difficult a task it becomes; and now, after having gone a handful of days not being able to see him for more than a few passing moments, you cling to him more than usual, making the need inside him impossible to ignore.

You drive him utterly crazy with a simple touch- and he wonders how much of it is a conscious decision, and how much is executed simply by instinct. Do you realize just how deeply you affect him, or do you act purely on what feels good and right to you? Maybe it’s an equal mix of both- enjoying the effect you have on him, but also thriving in the euphoria that touching him makes you feel.

You haven’t gone much further past passionate kissing and idle, yet purposeful, groping of each other’s bodies, as Hyunjin tries his best to be proper and “follow the rules”- in which having intimate relations whilst unwed is wildly improper, and against everything he’s ever been taught. But when the wind blows your robe partly open, and he sees nothing underneath but your soft white lingerie, he can’t help but recall that such rules have always been pointless to him.

Hyunjin has always followed his heart before considering consequences and what is "right." So, if you're in love, if you want each other more than words, if you know you're going to be wed soon anyways, why should he hold off from following what his heart desires? Nothing about your relationship with one another has ever been conventionally proper, nor followed pre-established rules and notions, so why hold himself to such things now?

Do you think and feel the same as him? He suspects you do, but tonight he intends to find out for sure instead of wasting any further time questioning the depth of your intent, and considering conventional rules above his feelings. His hands squeeze your waist as he turns you both around, pressing your backside against the sturdy balcony banister, the sound of surprise that leaves you muffled by his lips that have still yet to part from yours.

"I want you," he says after pulling away from your lips, though still close enough for you to feel his breath directly on your skin, "more than I fear is allowed." There’s a fear there- that the depth of his longing is entirely one-sided, that the way in which he craves you goes unrequited, that the longing you feel doesn’t go past its current boundary.

Hyunjin rests his forehead against yours, eyes staring straight into yours in a way that makes you feel equal parts vulnerable and warm. "Do you want me too?" he asks carefully, setting aside his nerves and uncertainty, his hands trailing over where the wind tousled your robe and exposed your shoulder.

"Say no, and I'll stop right now. We'll move on as if this never happened until you're ready to discuss it," he continues, hand pausing where the strap of your bra lies, uncovered thanks to your partially fallen robe, "but I need to know- if I am allowed to want you as badly as I do, and if you return these feelings." He watches your reaction attentively, unconsciously holding your breath as he waits for a hopefully favorable response.

You swallow, heart nearly beating out of your chest as you open your mouth to speak, and you're certain that Hyunjin can feel the goosebumps rising on your skin- goosebumps that exist solely because of him, and not at all from the late night chill. "I want you too," you respond, and you can see the way relief and excitement wash over him. A million promises and "thank you"'s linger on his lips, but instead of speaking them aloud, he pours them into his kiss, letting his body do the talking for him.

His hand travels away from your shoulder, down towards your waist, where your robe is held together with a loosely tied ribbon. The anticipation makes you shiver, and when you feel the knot come undone, you pull away to allow him the chance to look at you. It's utterly nerve wracking being this exposed, and you don't feel the least bit confident in yourself- but at the same time, you know how much Hyunjin reveres you, and so you want him to look.

While it's still a struggle to believe all that he sees in you, you know this is something he'll sincerely love. From the very moment your touches started to become more intimate he has craved this sight of you, and you grant him the opportunity to stare as much as he wishes to. You leave him breathless for a moment, and for quite possibly the first time, you watch in real time as something shifts inside of him.

The look in his eyes changes, first from awe as he unconsciously sucked in a breath, to utmost, almost overwhelming desire. He takes you in his arms and lifts you up, and you instinctively cling to him with a surprised squeak. His hands hold you up from under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around him while tightly holding his arms. He places you on the thick banister, and you shiver when the cold iron makes contact with your skin through the thin material of the robe you’re wearing.

He kisses you with fervor, his tongue sliding past your now parted lips. Comfortable with your position and Hyunjin’s strong hold on you, you move your hands from his arms to his face, holding it as you invite his tongue further inside your mouth. One of his hands continues to support you and hold you close to his body, while the other slips your robe further down, until it falls down your arms and pools at your elbows.

Another breeze rolls by, and you shiver once more, this time fully feeling the chill. Your thin, almost sheer lingerie does nothing to hide how hard your nipples have gotten, allowing Hyunjin to see them clearly when he pulls away from your kiss and glances down. He licks his lips as he stares at them, lets his free hand move away from your legs and up to your chest, palming one of your breasts over the thin fabric of your bra.

You gasp when his fingers brush your nipple over the fabric, and Hyunjin drinks in the way your body reacts to the near overwhelming sensation his fingers grant you. Your hands fall back to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as your body squirms. "Does it feel good?" he asks, this time watching your face as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, attentively watching the way your face changes.

Biting your lip and closing your eyes as you nod, your legs instinctively try to close together but are unable to due to his place between them. The soft, near whiny gasps you let out are intoxicatingly sweet, a sound Hyunjin could easily imagine himself becoming addicted to. He kisses you again, lingering on your lips and briefly muffling your whines before he trails down your jaw and to your neck, where he places wet, open mouthed kisses.

His touch makes you hot- so much so that the cool breeze no longer affects you the way it had moments prior, your shuddering coming solely from the way he's making you feel. He slips a hand inside your bra, touching your nipple directly now, the pad of his thumb rubbing over it in rhythmic strokes. He can feel your thighs tremble and squeeze him, still desperately trying to close together, driven by the innate need to seek friction.

You don’t outright say you need more, but your body does more than enough to tell him- and so Hyunjin dips his hand further down, slowly traveling between your bodies, over your stomach until it reaches its destination between your legs. He doesn’t know what to do, really- but he’s nothing if not a romantic at heart, and he lets that guide him onward. Following the romantic fantasies that often played in his head, he brings his lips back to yours, sensually kissing you as he rubs your heat over your panties.

It's so wet- much more than he ever could've anticipated. The fabric, that was already so thin and nearly sheer to begin with, has become almost entirely see through and now sticks to you uncomfortably (though Hyunjin’s hand is proving to be a perfect distraction from the discomfort.) His own fingers become slick even without direct contact, and it excites him as much as it drives his curiosity. What do you taste like? Is it okay for him to find out, or is that too far?

He wants to know, desperately wants to know- “Can I taste you, please?” he asks in a soft, pleading tone; it’s okay if you say no, he’d never question your limits, but fuck, he really wants it. You let out a breathy, eager “yes,” to which he responds with the most breathtaking smile. You watch with bated breath as he begins to trail kisses down your torso, leaving a few lingering touches to your nipples and stomach on his way down.

Hyunjin helps you slide off the banister, hands securely on your hips and guiding you forward, closer to him. He completely kneels down in front of you, presses soft kisses to your inner thighs as he guides one of your legs to rest over his shoulder. You lean back against the banister, your hands holding it for support while his hands rub over the back of your thighs and to your ass. He holds you there, occasionally squeezing, and you can feel him smile against the meat of your thighs when it causes you to squirm in his hold.

You watch his tongue dart out from between his lips, wetting them before he finally brings his face closer to your center, giving you a curious kitten lick over your panties. That alone is enough to make you jolt, and he squeezes you a bit tighter in response, trying to help you stay still while he explores the newly accessible parts of your body.

He can’t think of a single thing he could compare your taste to, but he loves it, an involuntary noise of pleasure rising from his throat. He quickly grows dissatisfied with small, careful licks- he needs more of you on his tongue, needs to taste you directly. But rather than separating from you and wasting precious time getting your panties off you, he decides it's a better idea to simply pull them to the side.

Your balance falters for a moment when he moves his hand away from your behind to shift your panties out of his way, but he’s quick to bring it back and continue to hold you once his tongue has once again met your core. Your grip on the railing tightens, head falling back and eyes fluttering closed as you let out a low moan. You never expected to be experiencing your first time with something like this outside, on your new balcony of all places, but you can't deny that it excites you.

It's fun, exhilarating, almost freeing- something that would've forever eluded you had you not met Hyunjin, and fallen in love with him. And oh, you’ve never felt anything as good as his tongue between your folds. You divert your gaze back down, mesmerized by the sight of him between your quivering thighs, and he too is mesmerized- by your taste, by the way you drip on his tongue, by the way you gasp and cry out when his tongue finds your clit.

He alternates between swirling his tongue around it, and giving you long, flat licks, both of which drive you crazy with need for more. You try your best to not let your noises get past a certain volume, teeth digging into your bottom lip almost painfully, hands desperately clutching at the banister as your body involuntarily trembles. It doesn't take long for Hyunjin to find the pattern you like, what motions cause you to cry the loudest despite your desperate attempts to contain yourself.

Your stomach rapidly tenses and contracts, your moans quickly turning into high-pitched whines as you’re driven closer and closer to release. You’re dizzy, mind practically floating with immense pleasure, your hips unconsciously rolling into his face as you seek sweet, blinding relief. Hyunjin’s cock throbs painfully in his trousers, straining against the fabric that has now grown tight around him, but he ignores it, completely focused on you.

He looks up at you from between your legs, watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you take desperate, panting breaths, sweating clinging to you in an ethereal sheen. You take one of your hands off the banister, instead burying your fingers into Hyunjin’s long hair. He groans against you, unexpectedly enjoying the way you slightly tug on the loose strands.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, your eyes rolling back as he flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you please. You let go of his hair when you feel your orgasm start to peak to clamp your hand over your mouth, wanting to avoid waking the entirety of the castle with your moans if you can help it.

He squeezes you once more, does his best to hold you upright as you lose yourself to the feeling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, the tingling that starts in your spine spreading throughout your entire body, as mind numbingly euphoric as it is overwhelming. He doesn’t separate from you until he feels your thighs relax and legs go limp, carefully removing your leg from its perch on his shoulder, holding you steady as he rises back up to his feet.

It takes you a moment to return your senses, only just barely registering Hyunjin talking to you as you blink away the fog of pleasure muddling your brain. He’s asking things like if you’re okay and if it felt good, grinning when you nod and answer him with meek affirmations. When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on him, and it somehow adds to just how amazing you feel.

It’s in that moment, where he’s stroking your cheek while kissing you, tongue exploring your mouth and sharing the taste of your release with you, that you decide you want to return the favor. Mirroring what he’s done to you, you let your hands wander his body until they meet the waistband of his trousers, where you slowly undo the buttons. His breath hitches when you sink to your knees, anticipation rising in tandem with his nerves.

Will you like what you see? It’s not something he’s ever worried about before, but now he finds himself awaiting your reaction anxiously. Wanting to spare him the late night chill, you don’t pull his trousers and underwear all the way down, instead just pulling down enough for his cock to spring free of its confines. And, wow- it’s much longer than you expected, as well as mouth-wateringly pretty, the vein running along the length utterly entrancing to you.

Pre-cum leaks steadily from the tip, and you curiously stick out your tongue to taste it as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He hisses and softly gasps, twitching and throbbing in your hand that is so much softer than his own. You quickly move on from small, careful and curious licks to swirling your tongue around the tip, sometimes stopping the movement of your tongue to press wet kisses to it.

His pre-cum smears over the tip and all over your lips thanks to your kisses, and it’s easily the most erotic thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. And God, when you look up at him through your lashes as you kiss him, your pretty lips wet and glistening because of his release- he has to make conscious effort to not let out a visceral groan.

After a few more soft, wet kiss, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue, leaning forward on your knees, using your hand to guide his cock into your eager mouth. His body shudders as he groans, the more you take of him into your mouth, the more he struggles to restrain himself. Hyunjin leans forward, grabs the banister for support while he watches you try to work him in past your limits- taking him in until you gag, retreating just long enough to recover before resuming, trying to take him further than last time with each attempt.

Tears prick the corners of your mouth, threatening to fall with each additional inch taken down your throat, but you refuse to concede. He brought you such unimaginable bliss- and you’ll do anything to make him feel the same. Just as Hyunjin had done, you proceed purely on instinct, staring up at him as you finally succeed in taking his entire length into your mouth. And fuck, the sight of you- how is he supposed to retain composure after seeing you like this?

Grip on the railing tightening, his eyes roll back when you start bobbing your head along his length, the sound of his cock sliding back and forth in your mouth creating impossibly salacious wet sounds. Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth, down to your chest and thighs, but you continue on, paying no mind to the mess you're making on yourself.

For the first time, you hear Hyunjin speak with an utter loss of composure- no smooth charisma, no eloquently crafted line of dialogue; just pure, pleasured rambling. "Darling, I can't- feels so good, I-" he cuts himself off with a curse, biting his lip as he feels you caress his throbbing vein with your tongue. He’s never felt so good before, and he’s so close- but what is he supposed to do? Release in your mouth? Is that even okay?

He intends to ask, opening his eyes to look at you as he does, but oh- the sight of you instantly causes the words to die in his throat, the sight of you paired with pleasure he feels is just too much for him. He cums with a moan, loud and pretty, his cum gagging you as it shoots straight down your throat. You pull away seconds later, releasing him from your mouth with a pop, swallowing the cum that lingers on the back of your tongue as you wipe your lips clean with the back of your hand. You look up at him next, taking in the sight of your normally elegant lover looking so debauched. He’s breathless and utterly disheveled, but still so impossibly perfect.

Hyunjin helps you to your feet after he’s collected himself, pulling you into an emotionally charged, sensual kiss; lips parted, tongue seeking yours. He lifts you up once more, deciding that both of you have spent more than enough time on the balcony, continuing to kiss you even as he carries you inside your bedroom. It makes the walk more precarious, but neither of you care, absorbed in one another as you are. And maybe you should feel some amount of shame for having pleasured one another in such an open space, but it’s the furthest thing from your minds.

All that matters is Hyunjin; how he makes you feel, and how you make him feel. Lying you on your bed as gently as he can manage, he finds his place between your legs as you fall to your back. His hands find the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off your body. Your robe is the next thing to be removed in your flurry of impassioned kisses, followed by your bra, and all of Hyunjin’s clothes.

“Love you so much, my darling,” he breathes against your skin between his kisses to your lips, hands roaming your body, “want to be inside you.” You pull away enough to see him clearly, your eyes finding his even in the dark of your room. “I want it to,” you admit softly, heat rising to your face, “I love you, Hyunjin.” He smiles, brief and timid, before he kisses you again, slipping one of his hands between your thighs to feel your heat with his fingers.

He rubs his fingers between your folds, and you let out a shuddering breath, body trembling with anticipation. You’re still so wet, and Hyunjin can’t help but involuntarily groan when he imagines what you’ll feel like wrapped around his cock. He takes his cock in his hand, smears your essence along it to get it wet, glancing up at you after he aligns himself with your hole. You look apprehensive, and he’s immediately worried you’ve changed your mind and want him to stop-

But when he offers, you quickly shake your head. You’re nervous, that much is true, but you want this- everything you experience with Hyunjin is new and beautiful, and you’re certain this will be too. And every time you’ve been hesitant, or scared, or anxious, he was there for you; he held you and listened to you and helped you find not only the courage to be where you are now, but your self-worth too. You love him, you trust him- and what better way to show him the depth of your love and trust, than to offer yourself to him, body and soul.

With one last affectionate kiss, a softly spoken promise to always take care of you, he begins to slowly push inside you. You both gasp, sensitive from your prior orgasms, the effect profound even before he’s all the way inside. There’s a slight discomfort at first that quickly gives way to tingly pleasure across your body, the sensation effectively stealing the breath from your lungs. Hyunjin clenches his jaw, breath growing more labored, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you even when his body is completely still.

He leans back down to you once your hips are flush together, wraps his arms around you, pressing your body against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, while he holds you under your shoulders, kissing you as he experimentally rolls his hips into yours. Each roll of his hips is slow and purposeful, as is each kiss you share. You understand now, why sex is often referred to as making love- because there can truly be no other way to describe the moment you share, and the feelings that come with it.

When he pulls away and looks down at you, his heart races even faster; you’re so pretty, beautiful- with your hair fanned out around you, the moon shining through your balcony doors highlighting the sheen of sweat in the most ethereal way. All he can think about is how much he loves you, how lucky he is to have you, how good you are to him. You’re perfect, utterly perfect in every conceivable way- and he knows you’d say just the same about him, would still find new ways to compliment him once you ran out of words.

Despite the languid pace, it doesn’t take long for Hyunjin to feel close again- he’s already cum once, and the sensitivity he feels from it in combination with the way your walls squeeze him is impossibly overwhelming. He squeezes you closer, his chest pressed against yours, his face burying its way into your neck. You can tell how close he is, from the way he twitches and throbs inside you, to the way he gasps and moans close to your ear.

Wanting to cum again with him, you move your dominant hand between your bodies, finding your clit with your fingers. When Hyunjin feels what you’re doing, he separates from you enough to watch, looking between your bodies to watch the way your fingers move. Your walls start to squeeze him tighter as you work yourself close to your release, and he can’t help but groan, hips picking up speed as he chases his orgasm with you.

Your noises grow louder once he picks up his pace, and you’re sure the guards outside your room have realized what’s happening- but neither of you can bring yourselves to care about containing yourselves anymore. You cum in tandem with one another- Hyunjin first, a strained groan of your name passing his lips as his cum shoots deep inside you, the feeling of it sending you over the edge with him.

Both of you are breathless and hot, with hearts thumping the hardest they ever have, but he kisses you regardless, paying no mind to his desperate need to catch his breath. He brings one of his hands to your face, caresses it as he kisses you, and still after he pulls away. He looks at you with such pure affection, soft admissions of love and tender care softly spoken for only you to hear.

Even after he carefully pulls out, he sticks close to your side, holding you close in his arms, refusing to leave you to go back to his own room. This is his place now- with you, listening to your soft breaths and stroking your head as sleep begins to take you. His own eyes quickly grow heavy, your warmth inviting, and he knows he’ll soon fall asleep with you. He whispers his affections, his love for you and how happy he is, knowing that this night is just one of many perfect nights you’ll continue to share in the future.

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #hyunjin smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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simandy · 1 year

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hi, can you explain what is going on with the goncharov meme? I was afraid to ask to not look stupid but I am neurodivergent and i often don't get memes...

(If you reblog this post please dont tag it as "unreality" bc it might be confusing for some neurodivergent people, this explanation is real, GONCHAROV is not.)

So in 2020 somebody bought themselves a pair of boots that had embroidery details written "GONCHAROV" and that it was a Martin Scorsese movie and "the best mafia movie ever made", even though this movie simply does not exist. It was later found out - and i kinda know a bit about this bc my mom makes embroidery stuff - that the "goncharov" detail in the boots were actually about ANOTHER (real) movie, called Gomorrah, but sometimes when you try to make an image into an embroidery file so a machine can work on it, letters get confused and misplaced. So this is WHY the Goncharov boots and stuff exists.

Now jumping to some days ago, somebody found the boots post again and made a fake poster with real actors from other movies, as a joke. It ended up making the whole tumblr catch on fire and everyone wanted to create lore about it. So there are gifs (from other movies) with superimposed fake lines from "Goncharov", there is art, there's my fake poster shirt (bc im a fan of internal jokes like these), there are fake premiere pictures (even Lynda Carter wanted to play with us).

The problem here is that in the middle of having fun, some of us forgot some people get triggered by UNREALITY, and some people forget to tag their posts and reblogs with that.

Outside of this, it's a harmless meme, but the movie does not exist.

#goncharov

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rosesbxrry · 1 year

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Cabin fever

Pairing: Boyfriend! Sunghoon X Girlfriend! Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞(Minors DNI), established relationship! AU,

Warnings: Hard and mean Dom! Sunghoon, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), cream pie, temperature play, cabin sex, fellatio (blowjob), throat fucking, ass spanking, slut shaming, degradation, Sunghoon calls you doll so much, reverse cowgirl, lots of teasing in his end, slight orgasm denial, slight nipple play. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: All you wanted was to escape the frigid December and spend more time with your boyfriend, Sunghoon, as the Christmas holiday urged you to do something together only to end up in a Ski Resort— courtesy of his idea. Still, at least the cabin you will be staying in was worth it, but Sunghoon had other plans during your trip.

"Don't lie to me and say you never thought of us fucking while we're here."

A Holiday Special: ➜ Sunghoon

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake |

Main masterlist

Word count: 4,087 words

a/n: I can’t believe this would be the last one for the holiday special 😱 it has been a month of non-stop writing and I’m proud of myself for finishing this eventhough I’m way past the holiday mood already 🤡 Anyways, thank you to everyone who stuck around until the end 🫶

It had to be said that— Winter is a very perplexing season, and you weren't for nor against the juncture that foreshadows spring.

When you woke up the following day after a heavy snowfall, your world was stripped of its life. Snow covered the color of nature into a temporary slumber, depriving your surroundings of any signs of existence, minus the people living there.

Shoveling the driveway and sidewalk was equally annoying as driving on the slippery, damp road. Doing something as simple as throwing the trash out was a hassle as you had to ensure you were dressed appropriately to avoid getting frostbite and wearing layers of clothing just to be outside for five minutes.

The last straw was when you woke up in the middle of the night, itching to use the toilet, only to scream loudly at how cold the seat was. You didn't own one of those fancy Japanese toilet warmers, so you had to persevere with only what you had.

The only saving grace to the coldest season was Christmas, the holiday you enjoyed the most in every aspect possible. It was the time of the month when you got to spend some time with your family and loved ones, which was why you were excited to celebrate the occasion with Sunghoon.

As per tradition, both of you took turns taking responsibility for setting up a game plan for your Christmas dates. Whether it be a fancy candlelit dinner or a stay-at-home watching movies kind of vibe— it didn't really matter as long as you could spend some quality time together as a couple.

You didn't expect him to book something outside the area, which you didn't mind since it's been so long since you've been to a vacation spot for a date. The problem lies when you find out that the place your boyfriend, who knew that the cold was the bane of your existence, had graciously reserved was a Ski Resort.

Which alludes that skiing was in the itinerary or even the only entertainment there is within the vicinity. Heck, since when did he even ski in the first place?

The place was situated on the outskirts of town, surrounded by the outdoor wilderness but more so pine timbers and mountains that seemed as frigid as the cold December. You were worried about altitude sickness at how high up the resort was, but that wasn't the case after sliding through the pistes and utilizing the ski lift multiple times.

Although, you could get down to the log cabin where you would lodge for the rest of the trip.

It was the epitome of a picturesque accommodation, fitted for the cozy and warm vibes it provided as you lay on the woolly sofa after spending half of the day outside skiing in the snow.

"I'm so tired." You drawled, stretching your legs and resting your head on the back of the sofa.

Your face was numb with all the cold wind blowing on your facial skin, wanting nothing more than to stuff yourself on a pile of blankets. Still, you enjoyed the activity more than you anticipated.

"What happened to Miss this is stupid, I don't even know how to ski and her complaints?" Sunghoon snorted in amusement, feeling the cushion deep as he sat beside you. The high points of his pale face were also flushed from the cold.

You kick his shin with your foot lightly. "Hush, Sunghoon. That's all in the past now. We need to start living in the future."

Your shameless allude caused him to grin knowingly, and you tried to salvage your remaining dignity to prevent stroking the already big ego that he was right about the trip.

"Can you add more wood to the fire? It's seriously getting a bit cold here." You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth.

The words you said were to distract and send him away from the subject matter, but now that you were conscious of the drop in temperature, chills went down your spine.

It was getting cold in the cabin, evident by how your fingers were getting tingles as you held them close to your mouth. The masonry heater that warms up the place had probably started to die out since the morning you left to go skiing.

That was the drawback of experiencing a multipurpose rental cabin; the one-layer log walls were also built to be used in the summer, which is why the insulation was pretty much crap.

It didn't help that you were surrounded by a secluded forest, so if you and Sunghoon didn't keep the heater well ignited throughout the day, there was a high chance that both of you would end up freezing to death in this weather.

"Come here, let me help warm up your hands." Sunghoon said, reaching out to take your left hand in his.

You didn't think much, guessing that he'll put your hand in the pocket of his winter jacket. So, you instinctively relax your arm and let him guide it near his body— only for him to place it right on his crotch.

"What the— Sunghoon!" You yelled, obviously not amused by his sudden inappropriate behavior as you tried to pull your hands away from his growing bulge.

He proved to be much more substantial; his grip on your hand didn't falter at your pathetic attempts to free yourself were to no avail. Sunghoon laughed at your annoyed expression, watching you struggle as he adjusted his hands that intertwined with yours to let you grope more of his size.

"I'm literally freezing to my bones and the only thing you could do is to succumb to your own horny ass?" You protest through gritted teeth.

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders. "I told you I'll help you warm up your hand…..never said how though."

You gave him an unbelievable stare, rolling your eyes while obviously used to his obnoxious antics of railing you up.

"I'm being serious here." You reminded him, not swayed by his little charade.

He snorted, giving you one dark look between his bangs. You yelped in surprise when he yanked your hand towards him, causing your upper arm and shoulder to fall flush on his lap. Some of your weight had transferred to your palm as you tried to keep the leverage to stare up at him.

This action made you realize how hard he was under your hand.

"I'm being serious too." He whispered an octave lower as he smirked down at you with a hungry glint that made you swallow.

"Don't lie to me and say you never thought of us fucking while we're here." He raised an eyebrow, watching your cheeks flush as his words hit a home run.

You can't pretend that it never crossed your mind that this trip would be the perfect setting for a bad plot line of a porno. There was an outdoor jacuzzi and even a fireplace in your shared bedroom— all the proper setup ensues the wild fantasy swimming in your mind, or maybe you were just as horny as he was.

You grunted in defeat, and he watched you with a smug smile when you began to pull on the front of his pants.

"Not a word, Park." You grumbled.

He licks his lower lips, stopping himself from grinning wider as he helps you tug his pants to his thighs and free his hard cock from the confinements of his briefs.

Sunghoon let out a hiss when you began pumping his length; the delicious contact of your cold hands against the hot skin of his head and the underside of his veins got him winching in pleasure at the sensation.

"I knew you'd come around," He said as you adjusted to lay your chin on his lap, body outstretched on the sofa on your chest and stomach, hands never ceased to jerk him slowly. "My dick is just that good, huh?"

"You know, you're so much hotter with your mouth shut closed." You said, his words getting on your nerves.

Sunghoon crackled at your annoyed expression. "While you—"

He grabs a bunch of your hair behind your head, tugging forward until your face is inches away from his stiff erection. His other hand rested on your ass cheeks, kneading the ample flesh roughly until you whined at the sensation.

"—look so much hotter with your mouth open, full of my cock."

You caved in to the directing action of his grip on your hair, opening your mouth as he guided you to shove his length past your lips.

Sunghoon was not only ridiculously long, but his thick girth stretched the corner of your lips beyond its capacity. He was throbbing against the inside of your mouth as you slowly inhaled most of his size; the remaining length left was occupied for you to jerk him off.

"My girl just wanted something to suck on, huh?" He said, shivering at the juxtaposition sensation of your hot mouth engulfing his cock as opposed to the cold temperature of the surrounding.

When you withdraw with only his head around your lips, you dart your tongue at his swollen slit, precum dribbling out to coat your taste bud before encasing the majority of his length again in a suckling motion.

The cold chills you felt before had dissipated, your body warming up as you relentlessly bobbed your head up and down his length more crudely by the second.

His groans hitched when you ran your warm tongue over the large vein on his length, hollowing your cheeks to suction him back and forth so filthily that he didn't even need to move his hips to thrust into your throat— you were already doing it yourself, and he can't help but found the sight to be pure ecstasy.

"Such a whore for my cock." He breathed out, watching you through half-lidded eyes. "Could never get enough watching you slut your mouth out for me."

You would love to look up and gauge his reaction, but it proved to be complicated.

Every time his swollen tip would press on the soft palate of your mouth and poke at the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as all you could do was suck harder around his cock.

It drives you crazy at how solid and big he was, filling the cavern of your mouth to the brim and forcing you to breathe through your nostrils at the lack of space.

Your hands wrap around the base of his cock with whatever you weren't able to fit, feeling yourself rutting on the sofa at the sensation of your aching clit pooled with your own juices.

Sloppy noises filled the air as you quickened your pace, humming around his cock as waves of vibrations sent signals for him to let out a few low groans.

It didn't help that the movement of your chin was digging into his tight balls.

"Fuck, that's it." He encouraged you, toes curling as his pending release was on edge. He pulled your hair tighter, melting at how eager you were to fuck your throat with his dick. "Take me deeper, doll."

You spurred into action, loosening the tension by unhinging your jaw and swallowing him until his cock pressed on your throat incessantly. With tears stinging your eyes, you remain stagnant in your position, diving deep down until you feel like choking.

The sensation of your hot, gummy throat on his erect head for such a prolonged duration made him lose it— Sunghoon eyes flew to the ceiling, and his head lolled to the side as he released with a loud curse.

He defiled your opening with ropes of his musky cum. You gulped down his hot seed rapturously and pumped his length to milk out every last drop of him.

"Fuck, you're unreal." He slurred, leaning on the back of the sofa to watch you with blown-out eyes, thighs feeling sore with the weight of your shoulders on his lap.

The beautiful sight of you smacking your lips around his length winded him in delight. Despite the drool and white mess dripping down your chin, you lick his cum nice and clean for him to witness.

"Messy girl, you're drooling everywhere." He cooed, putting a palm on the crown of your head.

Your jaw was sore from sucking him off, but you opted to swirl his tip around the roof of your mouth like he was fine wine. His taste was so addictive that you couldn't help but play with him for a little longer.

"What can I say," You mumbled with his cock still in your mouth, looking up at him with a seductive stare. "I'm a slut for your cock, aren't I?"

Letting his head poke the inside of your cheek, you made sure he saw the prominent bulge that formed on your face.

Sunghoon inhales a deep breath.

You knew you unleashed the beast within; his eyes turned dark and cold as he roughly held your jaw to yank your mouth away, feeling his nails dig into the skin. You almost moan pathetically at the way he swallowed hard, anticipation sending waves of enticing pleasure to your clit because you knew—

He was gonna ruin you to hell.

"Enough." His voice tightened, his command being the epitome of dominance. His thick eyebrows furrowed, expression morphed into raw hunger. You rubbed your thighs together, excitement coursing through your veins when he pulled on the waistband of your trousers.

"That smart mouth of yours needs to stop being fucking greedy." He asserts, manhandling your body until you are straddling on either side of his thighs, giving him a good view of your back as you face away from him.

The cold air of the frigid cabin made you shudder as your trousers were long thrown on the floor, leaving you vulnerable with your lace panties. Sunghoon pulled the soaked middle to the side, the bundled material wedged between the crack of your ass.

You sigh when the chilly air hits your exposed and damp folds.

"I want your pussy to do all the fucking this time" Sunghoon squeezed a handful of the soft flesh, massaging it teasingly until it bulged between his deft fingers, enough to make you whimper in agony.

"So prepare yourself and ride me real good." He urged, hands moving to your sides.

Still suspended in mid-air above his lap, adrenaline bristled your body as you reached back to grip his cock, positioning his tip against your tender entrance while he lowered you down by your love handles.

Everything shifts into an upward spiral, feeling him stretch your walls deliciously as you sink down on his hard cock.

"Ahh—haaahh— fuck." You gasp for air, chest rising and falling erratically as you take him inch by inch until you bottom out and are fully seated on his lap.

"So fucking deep….."

You feel winded by the sheer volume of his cock even though you've had him a million times before. Still, your position allowed him to reach the deepest part of your crevice, already clamping around his length before he could even move.

Sunghoon seemed delighted with your reaction, leaning forward until his hot breath fanned the nape of your neck and toned chest flushed to your back.

"You love it when I go deep into you, don't you?" he hummed, licking the outer shell of your ear before nibbling at the wet spot. "Love it when I split your pussy with my big cock, right, doll?"

"I love it….fuck…I love it so much….." Your voice was slurred with drunkness, head spinning with vertigo overwhelming your consciousness at his words when you finally felt the desperation to move— grinding down on your hips to slowly test the waters.

After enduring the initial adjustment, you finally move in and out of him, and my god, did you erupt out the most euphoric moan at the sensation of his length dragging against your hot walls.

"Look at you go, bouncing on my cock like a slut you are." His defiling praises only fueled the knot burning in your stomach, your juices leaking around him as it lubricated the movement of your drop and fall.

In the moment of delirious high, you didn't realize that he pulled the last article of clothing to keep you away from the biting temperature. It only registered in your mind when he roughly peeled your bra off, exposing your upper body to the cold air of the bleak cabin.

You were sure the heater had died off at this point, basking your figure in the arctic air.

Sunghoon cupped your bouncing breast from behind; his large cold hands engulfed the pair with a tight grasp. Goosebumps flares on your skin by the coldness, and it gets worse when he kneads the flesh in a circular motion, index fingers flicking your erect nipples back and forth.

"Wait— stop!" You begged, but the male continued playing with your breast and hardened nipple, ignoring your request with a coy smirk.

"Why? Don't you like it when I play with your nipples like this?" You could feel the teasing grin plastered on his face at the back of your neck. You buck your hips when he pinches your tits, pulling them away slightly in a torturous manner.

"Fuck, its too cold, Sunghoon."

The throbbing pleasure came in waves, from your stuffed pussy to your sensitive breast, and it only intensified at how icy his fingers were.

"Cold? Then if I do this—"

Nothing in the universe could prepare you for the sensation of his cold finger on your clit, and you almost lurch forward from his lap if he hadn't held you down with a strong arm around your waist.

The temperature change was too much for your swollen clit to handle, and strings of broken moans escaped your lips that you almost choked on your saliva. The sensation hurts enough to morph oddly into agonizing pleasure that you've never felt before.

Fuck, this is crazy.

While you were losing your mind, Sunghoon was enraptured by the feeling of your cunt clenching and contracting around him. You were so tight, so wet that he couldn't help but rub circles around your clit rapidly to elicit more of your sweet spasm.

"No— stop. Hahhahh— please stop, it's too much."

You were sobbing in deep torment at this point, trying to clamp your thighs shut to slow his pace down. You lean back on his chest as your body grows dull by the pleasure every second, your thigh burning from riding him for too long.

Sunghoon was dissatisfied with your current state, apparent with how he stopped playing with your tits and clit, baring his fangs to bite between the junction of your neck harshly.

"Too much?" Sunghoon let out an exasperated laugh punctuated with an edge of rage that you were all too familiar with. "You really are an ungrateful slut."

With his arms around your waist to haul you up, you were pushed down on the wooden floor on all fours. Sunghoon made sure to realign his cock to nudge you deeper, your position with your ass up and head down made you at his mercy.

"I gave you all the pleasure you need, yet, it's too much? Don't make me laugh." He spat, pulling you closer by the hips roughly.

The drag of your puffy nipples against the stone-cold floor at his action stings your eyes, droplets of salty tears dripping down your cheeks. The complaint died in your throat— you were afraid of what he'll do beyond if he ever heard another plea from you.

Sunghoon can be grueling and hard on you, but maybe it was the internal masochist that kept you whining in pleasure at his forceful touch.

"Move." He commands.

You lay stagnant on the floor; the lack of proper spatial consciousness made you unable to compute what he meant, causing him to land a firm slap on your tender ass cheek.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed throughout the space, leaving a redden splotch behind. You jolt slightly from the impact, curling your toes in anticipation when you feel the wind of a second collision— only it never came.

Sunghoon loves how your drenched pussy clings onto his cock tighter, finding amusement when he teases for a second slap. Fuck, he found solace that you wanted to be spanked by him, and he'll do it wholeheartedly until you come, but that beats the point of punishing you.

"Don't let me tell you twice."

You swallowed down and mustered up the last remaining strength you had in your lower half, snapping back at his cock begrudgingly slowly but enough for him to be content for following his order.

"See, it wasn't that hard to follow my orders, right?" He rubs on the sore spot of your ass with his thumb comfortingly. "Such a needy little thing."

You cried out in your folded arms, pushing back until the head of his cock kissed the deepest part of your pussy. Persevering that your abused tits would rub the cold floor every time you move, you clench your fist and push back faster and harder to satisfy him.

Sunghoon was at the edge of coming, tilting his head back and watching your ass jiggle with every movement. His abdomen tensed up with eyebrows furrowed, feeling you milking him dry— until you stopped moving your hips abruptly before he could come undone.

"What the fuck?" He groans, almost offended by the sudden halt.

You could have let him have his way with you, but instead, you were digging your grave in an attempt to relinquish some sort of control over him.

"I—I'm not gonna let you come, Sunghoon." You breathe out, feigning bravery to utter those words even with your compromised position.

There was a pause in the air before Sunghoon outright laughed.

"Think you're so tough now, doll? Saying I can't cum?" Rather than taking it seriously, he snides in adoration at your attempt of defiance because, in the end, what fun will it be without some challenge?

"Fuck, you're adorable." Smoothing the curve of your ass to the arch of your back, his chuckle derives from the depth of his chest as he bit his lower lips to control his grin. "You're so cute, baby."

Your face burned at his genuine remarks.

The dominant energy he possessed previously dissolved a bit, holding your hips more sensually as he started pistoning his hips. The knot in your stomach rekindled, and his cock slid in and out of your cunt easily at the amount of arousal dripping out.

"My cute girl likes becoming my cum slut, doesn't she?" Sunghoon crooned, sloppily railing you slowly but slamming back once he was deep in you. "Do you want it, baby? Do you want me to fill your hole with my seed?

"Yes, yes— Sunghoon, I'm gonna cum…." You hiccuped.

At this point, the buildup of numerous torturous stimulation was clawing you to the brink of insanity, wanting nothing more than to cum around his cock until you could see stars.

Sunghoon understood the immediate signs of your nearing orgasm, humping the floor and crying his name uncontrollably— he gave all his strength in one last thrust before you burst by the seams.

Your climax blinds you over with euphoric waves that overwhelm your entire being. You were burning up inside but shuddered simultaneously on the cold floor, feeling like a fever taking over your release with sweet respite.

It didn't take long for Sunghoon to come as well, filling you up with his hot load as he promised. He fuck you through your orgasm, suspending you on cloud nine in the afterglow until you turn limp.

Huffing and puffing occupied the silence as you lay flat on the floor, exhaustion taking over the muscles of your body. As you clench and unclench when he pulls out, the abundant milky arousal oozes out of your spent hole on your thighs.

"Are you okay? Did I take it too far?" Sunghoon hovers over your lower body, kissing softly on the bruised spot on your ass guiltily.

"Did you?" You snort sarcastically, obviously perpetuating that it isn't with the way you're utterly numb. Sighing blissfully at the feeling of his soft lips on your stinging flesh, you had only one thing on your mind that made him laugh.

"I think my nipples are frozen."

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!

@forjongseong@skzenhalove @duolingofanaccount @sunnysunnysunnysunshine @sunnyjayjays @archangelaurii @hwihwi0o0 @won-shine @stnkyash @yoursjaeyun @hooneam @jjhmk @pshchives @heeseungssidechick

A Holiday Special: ➜ Sunghoon

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake |

#enhypen smut #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen sunghoon x reader smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen sunghoon hard hours #kpop hard hours #kpop smut #enhypen sunghoon smut oneshots #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jay smut #enhypen heeseung smut #kpop fanfic #enhypen smut imagines #enhypen smut oneshots #enhypen smut scenarios #park sunghoon smut

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magentas-dystopia · 10 months

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Something I really lament is the move towards digital media. Slowly we start to never own the things we like. Even if we "buy" a digital game, or movie or show. It's locked behind a certain platform or service. Once it shuts down we lose it forever.

(me when big booby anime girl explosion Is taken off of Netflix)

I also feel like there's a certain charm to owning physical media, like things you can hold and the satisfaction from pressing a clicky button or putting a disc or cassette in and seeing it work.

(oooh so classy so retro so.. expensive in the modern day)

More people should try to make copies of what they own digitally, or try to buy physical media before it's lost from streaming services and digital storefronts forever. Like the case with certain games like Godzilla 2014 and Transformers War for Cybertron. They don't exist digitally anymore. Only hard copies exist outside of emulation and at insane resell prices like... INSANE ones for a mediocre Godzilla game

So yea. Buy some more CDs of those albums you have on replay! Buy a DVD of that niche obscure anime you like! And most importantly PLEASE PLEASE START MAKING HARD BACKUPS OF SHOWS YOU LIKE THAT YOU PIRATE!!! media preservation is important!

(me downloading every episode of Daredevil onto my hard drive to burn to a DVD later so I can give it to all my friends)

This is now going to be a Comprehensive guide on how to rip a CD

POLL TIME!

Burning and Ripping Disc's❤️❤️💕💕🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

STEP ONE:

BUY A CHEAP BLU-RAY/DVD DRIVE FOR YOUR WINDOWS COMPUTER

here are some I recommend!!!

i personally use this pioneer one :)))

DVD drives in general are relatively cheap from 30-20 smackeroos, but Blu-ray drives are around 80-100 bucks depending on the manufacturer but offer better support for copying HD video such as on a Blu-ray.

STEP TWO:

FIND A PIECE OF MEDIA YOU ENJOY.

in this case its gonna be a CD!!

i really enjoy Vespertine by Bjork, but i wanna have it on my computer just in case anything happens to my CD. SO. ill open Windows Media Player

(she hasn't changed since 2011 <3333 be urself girl)

ill insert the disc into the player. and it'll start playing!

Pause the disc and go into Rip settings

NEXT!! select the format!

if you want to conserve space and don't mind sacrificing audio quality select MP3! if you want to hear the same level of audio quality as preserved on the CD, select a format labelled LOSSLESS. I recommend .WAV files as they'll work with most devices including an android phone or iTunes on PC (more on that later ;3 )

NEXT!

create a folder on whatever u wanna save ur music to! (u can call it whatever u want the world is your oyster bestie)

THEN!!! FINALLY

go into more options on the Rip Settings menu!

select ur folder and press Rip CD!!!!

the fun thing of this now, is that you can pull these files on your computer and put it onto your Android device so you can listen to your hearts content without lugging around your CD in a player at high quality without any subscription service with free reign of who you can give your download to!

But Magenta! what if i have an iPhone?

ohohoo fear not bestie because iTunes on PC has an even EASIER way to do it

because simply putting in a disc with iTunes downloaded prompts THIS

(oooo so new age)

and if you have apple music on your iPhone this will sync to your phone if you logged into iTunes on PC!!

thank you for coming to my TED talk

#vhs #media preservation #piracy #no like for real. please just download the stuff u pirate just in case it gets taken down #ateez #atz #x files #godzilla #Björk

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ruexarchive · 4 months

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"Do me a favour and never talk to her again, Got it?"

Possessive! Draken x gn! reader

Rating: 16+

summary: it only started when I guy took an interest in you, but Draken wasn't taking that shit...

warnings: fluff + cussing + sexual implications

"I'm telling you, girl, Kaito has been staring at you all week. You have to talk to him!" A good friend of mine, Kuki, we were walking towards the school gates. Finally living the hell we called school. Though I had told her I had a boyfriend she still wouldn't believe me because I never showed her a picture let alone said what his name was. But he was a very private person and he was a gang member. "come on you know I have a boyfriend, and I'm not interested." "yeah you keep saying that but I'm starting to think he doesn't exist.." "hey, y/n can we talk for a bit?" "holy crap!" Kaito scared the living shit out of me, I wasn't expecting him to jump out from behind me. "oh sorry for scaring you beautiful" "ohh shit he called you beautiful, his definitely into you" Kuki whispered in my ear But I wasn't focused on what she was saying, I was trying to find my voice and reply to him. "um no it's okay. what did you want to talk to me about?" Kaito led me away from Kuki to a more secluded area. "I was wondering if you wanted to watch this new movie that came out a few days ago on Saturday?" He was staring right at me. "oh, I'm not sure if-" I couldn't finish my sentence when I spotted my boyfriend. Shit what was he doing here, I told him to wait outside if he was going to pick me up. "hey baby, I've been waiting for what feels like hours." he walked right beside me and kissed me on my cheek. "oh sorry, I hadn't realised it'd been that long." I chuckled trying to ignore Kaito staring daggers into me. "And you are?" Kaito turned to Draken feeling a bit threatened by the dragon tattoo on the side of his head. He ignored him and leaned into my ear and whispered "who's this?" "He's in one of my classes" I whispered back to him "We're gonna be late for the meeting, we should go." This time he wasn't whispering. Kaito was getting visibly irritated by the fact he decided to ignore him completely. Ken grabbed my hand, leading me towards the parking lot "Hey wait!" kaito yelled as we walked away "Yeah?" I turned my head around to face him. "Saturday?" kaito looked pretty desperate "she can't she's busy. Do me a favour and never talk to her again, Got it?" He didn't even bother to turn to Kaito just kept walking his hand interlocked with mine. I had already turned my head away from Kaito by then.

"he has some nerve talking to you, much less asking you out on a date." Draken looked pretty pissed yet he had a huge smirk on his face, staring down at me. "what's that smirk for huh?" "wanna go to a motel after the meeting?" I knew exactly what he was implying but I decided to play dumb, it was much more fun that way. "I don't understand why do you wanna go to a motel?" He didn't even answer me, just gave me a look I wouldn't make out. I didn't say anything so I just turned to him and kissed him on the cheek But he grabbed my face and kissed me hard on the lips. His so fucking demanding... But fuck I love him. He grinned and signalled me to get onto his bike. I held onto him by the shoulders. He made a clicking noise with his tongue which showed a sign of disapproval, so I moved my hands down to his waist. He was holding back a little smile, trying to keep his tough persona.

Author's notes:

I just wanted to say thank you so much for the support on my latest posts.

#draken x you #draken x reader #draken x y/n #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #tokyo revengers #tr imagines #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev headcanons #draken

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lowkeychenle · 6 months

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Empire State of Mind [PJS/LMK] (M)

Description: Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him.

Genre: Angst/SLIGHT fluff (like you REALLY have to squint)/SMUT

Content Warnings: LOTS OF rough, explicit unprotected sex (don't do this LOL), counter sex, car sex, use of pet name 'Princess' (Jisung), use of pet name 'pretty girl' (Mark), INFIDELITY (reader), do not read if infidelity is a trigger for you or if it pisses you off. It pisses me off too, I just like drama. Also, neither man knows the other exists so do with that what you will.

Word Count: 7,158

Pairing: Park Jisung x Reader // Mark Lee x Reader

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Author's Note: Is this what I'm supposed to be working on? no of course not, however, I do think this is pretty good so no one judge, also HELLO FIRST JISUNG FIC??????? AM I OKAY (no)

In a city as busy as this one, it’s normal to wake up to music playing loudly outside. The not-so-gentle melodies flood through the window, the faint lyrics of Empire State of Mind just barely enough to pull you out of your slumber.

Things weren’t like this before. You remember a time, somehow far off, where you were happy. When simple things like this didn’t bother you. When waking up meant you woke up next to him, too.

Now you’re next to another, but it’s not the same. It’s never the same.

Days blend together. Weeks become months. Honestly, you have a good relationship with Jisung. He’s loving. He takes care of you. Loves you in ways you’ve never been loved before. But something is different. You didn’t start out comparing him to your ex—even though you don’t call him that.

Mark is more than an ex. He’s the first person you truly loved, so of course, it’s normal for him to have a place in your heart, right?

Even two years after your break up, however not-painful it was, you find it’s hard to go an entire day without thinking of Mark. You sit on your shared couch with Jisung, playing with his hair while his head rests in your lap, and you’ll be thinking of him. The movie passes by as unwelcomed background noise.

When your eyes flutter open, you groan and blink a couple times, seeing the city skyline on the horizon. You’re far up here, but you’ve never felt more at rock bottom than you have lately. Maybe it’s the gradual descent into perpetual sadness that has you clinging to Mark. Maybe it has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with who you were when you were with him.

Jisung’s arm is slung over your waist, but his soft snores tell you he’s still fast asleep. The extensive noise of the city bustling around on a Saturday morning doesn’t bother him in the slightest. You gently remove his grip on you, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood floor is cold against your feet, but you welcome the feeling.

It is a feeling, after all. You don’t get very many of those lately.

The full length mirror sits directly across from you. Jisung has insisted you two find a better place for it, but the tiny apartment doesn’t exactly give you many options. You stare at your frazzled hair, at the way the sun gleams off your skin.

You look tired. Sad. Like life is passing you by. And at this point, it really is.

Jisung is good to you. He makes you happy, but the happiness you feel with him always seems…temporary.

Sighing to yourself, you get out of bed, grab a pair of shorts from your clean laundry basket, and tug them up your legs. Jisung’s T-shirt sits too large on your frame, and as you brush your teeth, you take notes of the subtle marks he left on the conjunction of your neck and shoulder from last night.

He’s a good lover. An even better boyfriend, but everything is so monotone. The world has been drained around you, and the only thing you can blame is him.

You run a brush through your hair, and then you put your shoes on. One thing that’ll always make you feel better is sunshine, even though there’s a slight lack of it in the city due to the high-rise buildings lining the street. You pay them little attention. As you leave your apartment, head into the elevator, and eventually make your way to your freedom, you take a deep breath of air.

You don’t know how life became bland. No part of it makes sense to you, but you don’t fight it. How can you fight it? Instead, you let it engulf you, and you know Jisung is hurting because of it. You wonder how long he’ll be able to put up with it.

Walking through crowds of people somehow relaxes you, as you know you’re nobody to all of them. Not a single person around you expects anything of you. In a world full of disappointment, expectations, and emotions, it’s nice to be a small speck of dust on a much wider spectrum.

You find your usual coffee shop, pushing the door open and waiting in the little line that’s accumulated. After you order, you wait off to the side, frowning when you feel your phone vibrating. Looking down at your screen, you recognize your friend, Jiyoon, is calling you.

“Hey,” you answer, putting the phone between your shoulder and your ear. “What’s up?”

“I’m so sorry,” she starts off quickly. “I wasn’t supposed to work today and they just hit me with this giant assignment, I can’t do coffee today.”

She’s already late. Not that it matters.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “(Y/N), seriously. You know I love you, and if I didn’t have to do all of this bullshit, I’d never miss out on one of our coffee dates.”

“It’s fine.” You nod, accepting your drink from the barista with a smile. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll see you next week.”

“Alright! I’ll make it up to you. I’m buying next time.”

“Ah, yes, thank you for offering to pay for my three dollar coffee, that’s quite an extravagant—” Your smile falls as you turn around to exit. The sight almost has you dropping your cup, too. “I gotta go.”

You scramble to hang up your phone as you make eye contact. It’s been at least a year since you’d seen him last, but he still looks the same. Mark’s eyebrows slightly furrow as he recognizes you, his head tilted to the side. And that’s when a smile breaks out on his face. The smile that still has your heart plummeting into the depths of your stomach. Attached to the man that you spend everyday thinking about.

Your lips part, almost as if you’d be bold enough to say something, but you snap them shut equally as fast. You have no idea what he thinks about you, what he must be feeling at this moment, but your relationship didn’t end horribly.

Things weren’t right. You both wanted different things.

“Wow,” he says, resting the small of his back against one of the booths. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

You’re speechless. How do you say anything to him, when he’s as perfect as he was, and the remnants of the past explode across your mind like fireworks? Your heartbeat is much faster than normal, hands fidgeting. What the hell are you supposed to do?

“Sorry, was that bad?” Mark scrunches up his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No, not bad.” You shake your head. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you today.” Or ever.

“Honestly, I usually take a different way to work, but I put the first coffee shop I could find into my GPS.” He shrugs.

“I see you still try to brave the big bad city with a car, huh?” A real, genuine smile tugs at your lips.

He bites back a laugh. “Not as much as I used to.”

“Ah, so some improvement has been made,” you tease him. The tone of your voice surprises you, as you actually sound light-hearted. When’s the last time you spoke to someone this way?

“You know what they say. Time does wonders.” He tugs his fingers through his hair.

“Well,” you begin, dropping your hand against your side. “It was nice seeing you, Mark. Really. I’ve gotta get back.”

“Right, of course.” He nods and gestures toward the door. “I don’t mean to keep you.”

You sip your coffee and make your way past him, and as you reach out for the door, you hear his voice again.

“(Y/N)?” He waits to continue until you look at him. “My number’s still the same, in case you wanted to catch up.”

You shouldn’t want to. Jisung gives you everything you could ever ask for, and even strives to be better every day. He brings you home flowers, he cooks for you. Even after all that, you’re thinking about how nice it would be to be in contact with the man in front of you again. Mark was everything to you at one point, and now you’re meant to feel that way for Jisung.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you give him a warm grin, turn, and leave the coffee shop behind. As embarrassing as it is, you do have his contact saved. And you know he wants to hear from you, so it’s only going to make this nagging feeling worse.

As you walk back down the sidewalk, a new sort of happiness is awoken. For the first time in a long time, you finally feel like yourself again. You’re practically skipping down the street. When you get home, Jisung’s in the kitchen, leaning on the island while he finishes his buttered toast and takes a drink of his water.

He regards you warmly as soon as he sees you. “You left early this morning.”

“Sorry, Ji,” you say, approaching him and kissing his cheek. “I woke up pretty late and wanted to make sure you’re getting rest.”

His arm wraps around your waist and tugs you flush against him. He delicately chews on his bottom lip as he scans over you. There’s so much love contained in his pretty brown eyes, you find yourself wishing you could get lost in them.

“Have I ever told you how good you look in my clothes?” he hums, tugging the bottom hem of the T-shirt.

“Maybe once or twice.” You beam and tilt your head to the side. “I think I look better when it’s off, though.”

The shock is clear on his face—between the way his eyebrows jump upward and the slight parting of his lips. You never say things like that to him. Typically, you wait for Jisung to initiate, and he’s most likely always written it off as you being shy.

You’ve never had a problem being attracted to Jisung, so sex isn’t your issue. He reaches spots inside you you never thought possible, and he seems to know what you want before even you do. And as you hoist yourself up on the counter, you wonder if your sudden craving for Jisung has anything to do with him at all. Guilt pangs briefly, but the second he’s between your legs with his gray sweats sitting low on his hips, you fend off any sort of bad feelings.

Jisung chuckles, cupping your cheek and stroking it with his thumb. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“Is it so wrong to want my boyfriend?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, tracing your finger down his chest. “I’m just wondering what it’s gonna take to get you to fuck me on the counter.”

“If this is how you’re gonna come home to me, I’m sending you out with Jiyoon more often.” He wastes no more time, leaning in to kiss you. You sigh against his lips, rolling your hips toward him.

You feel him starting to harden through his sweatpants. His hands move down to your thighs, his long fingers gripping you roughly as he pulls you to the edge. You secure your legs around him, grinding the growing heat between your thighs against his length. He lets out a quiet groan and thrusts toward you.

“Fuck me like this, Ji,” you whisper, kissing down his neck. “Just like this.”

“I gotta take these off.” He tugs at the bottom hem of your shorts, leaning his head back.

“Takes too long.” You shake your head and nip on his skin. “Please.”

His breath shudders, and before you know it, his hand pushes the fabric aside, touching along your entrance through your panties.

“Shit, princess, you’re so wet,” he groans and presses against you, fingers grazing your clit.

You rub along his clothed length, squeezing him and shuffling closer to him. At the end of the day, you know Jisung deserves better than this, but the second he moves the sticky fabric covering you to the side, any regret or guilt fades quickly. You can’t see him taking his cock out of his pants, but you note the way a sharp breath passes through his lips and his gaze darkens when he jerks himself slowly.

He lines up with you, tip already applying pressure, and kisses you roughly before pushing inside. You tighten your legs around him, head falling back against the cupboards at the sensation. He’s already throbbing, the thickness of his length stretching you to your limits. Reaching up, you grip his hair and roll your hips.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, gently rocking back and forth. “Hear that, princess? So fucking wet, I’m sliding right in.”

As soon as he deems you adjusted to him, he thrusts. His cock rubbing against your walls at this pace has you trying to find something to hold onto to ground you. Your mind is completely blank other than your pleasure.

And when your eyes roll back and you close them, the last thing you expect is to see Mark through the darkness. Oh, God, if you weren’t in such heaven right now, you’d feel horrible. Between the slick sounds of your wetness, his thickness stretching you to your limits, and the soft grunts falling from his lips, you allow your brain to put the other man in Jisung’s place. As long as you’re staring at the back of your eyelids, it’s Mark fucking you on the counter.

And for some reason, that thought has you skyrocketing toward your high. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and like he knows what that means, his hand reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit with ease. Your hips jolt, the feeling borderline too much for you.

With Mark on your mind, you finish so much faster than you usually do.

You even have to bite your lip to stop his name from escaping you. Instead, you force Jisung’s out, whining as your vision blurs. He fucks you through your orgasm before his own pace becomes erratic. He lets out a long moan, and one more thrust has him spilling deep inside you.

Finally meeting his gaze, you give him a fucked-out smile, wishing away how bad you feel about imagining your ex fucking you instead of your boyfriend.

He kisses you sweetly, humming. “What spurred this on?”

“You just…look really good today,” you mumble and press your lips to the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He grins and gently pulls out of you.

After he adjusts himself in his pants, he scoops you up off the counter, bringing you to your shared bedroom. He cleans you up with a towel, but not without admiring the way his load leaks out of you.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jisung says, grabbing you a new pair of panties and shorts.

“What’s that?” you ask, accepting the new items and changing into them.

“What do you think about getting married?” he whispers, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I mean, in general. Nothing definitive with us, but I just want to see where your head is at before I get ahead of myself, you know?”

You should’ve expected it, honestly. With the couple years you two have been together and the way you’re not getting any younger, you’re more than sure his parents have been pressuring him into marrying you. Your heart sinks further in your chest when your mind immediately jumps back to Mark.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it,” you tell him.

It’s not entirely a lie. You’ve just never thought about marrying him.

“Would being married to me be a bad thing?” he continues, gaze scanning over your face for any sign of emotion.

“No, of course not.” You shake your head, rubbing your thumb against his cheek. “Nothing about you is bad, Sung.”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that.”

The pang of hurt flashes across his features so quickly, you almost miss it. He recollects himself, as if he wants to hide the emotions from you in the first place.

You’re sure after that, everything will return to normal. For a while, you hoped the sighting of Mark and its effect on you were a one-time thing, if not for your sake, then for Jisung’s. It’d crush him to learn how much Mark’s presence threw you off course.

Things almost worked out in your favor. Almost.

Until you went back to that coffee shop and saw him again. It was odd that you’d gone so long without seeing Mark, and now he’s suddenly in your favorite place in the city almost every time you’re there.

It has to be on purpose, but the last thing you’ll do is correct him.

The second time you saw him, you stayed to talk to him a bit longer. You somehow convinced yourself you weren’t doing anything wrong, considering he was the one showing up to see you.

After the third time, you caved and began texting him. You weren’t sure if he knew about Jisung, but you never brought it up. All you were doing was talking—there’s nothing wrong with talking to Mark, right?

Maybe that would have been the case if you told Jisung about him. If you’d told him that you were texting someone else daily, almost instantaneous replies. But every day you physically saw Mark, it awakened something in you.

But it’s okay because you never planned to see him…right?

Jisung was still in bed when you got back from getting coffee. He smiled at you as you walked in, and when you tossed your phone aside and straddled his lap, he didn’t even hesitate. Something about seeing Mark had your insides turning, and Jisung was an outlet. It didn’t help that every time you closed your eyes, you pictured Mark filling you instead of Jisung. It got worse and worse as time went on.

You sink down on Jisung’s length, throaty groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your waist. Giving yourself a few moments to adjust, you let yourself loose after that. You ride him desperately, the feeling of him deep within your walls making you delirious. He didn’t even need to guide you, your excitement allowing you to ignore the ache in your thighs as your wetness drips down them.

Jisung has no idea what’s gotten into you lately, but he fucking loves it. He’d gotten used to the way things were, and seeing you take charge and want him was doing things to him, too. You’d had more sex in the past few weeks than you had in the months prior, and Jisung was living for it.

But he doesn’t know.

God, it should make you feel bad, but at this point, all it does is send another burst of wetness down your thighs. He reaches behind you and squeezes your ass, watching you in a form of awe as your tits bounce in his face and your nails leave crescent-shaped imprints on his shoulders.

You close your eyes, imagining it’s Mark’s fingers connecting with your clit. Mark’s cock fucking into you as you sink down. Mark’s face contorted in pleasure. The sight in your brain is enough to have you shattering, your orgasm ripping through you at an impossible intensity. You scream, Jisung—Mark—sitting up just in time to catch your crumbling body.

He thrusts two more times before he’s filling you to the brim, chest heaving as he cradles you to him. Gently scratching up and down your back, he kisses your temple.

You’ve been insatiable lately, but you can’t deny how much better life has been. Mark has made your life better, even with short conversations and texts. Not to mention the guilt has all but disappeared. There’s no harm in talking.

You pull back to kiss Jisung, a quick peck on his lips while you grin widely. “I’m gonna shower. Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He chuckles. “Have fun, my love.”

You grab new clothes and your phone and head toward the bathroom, sending one more smile his way over your shoulder before you lock the door behind you.

The next morning, you’re awoken by the pleasant surprise of Jisung’s head between your thighs. You weave your fingers through his hair. While he’s under the blanket, he’s Mark. And that thought makes everything melt around you.

“Wh—what are you doing?” you breathe out as his tongue flicks your clit.

“You’ve been so good to me lately, princess,” Jisung mumbles against your thigh. He nips your skin. “Figured I’d return the favor.”

You shouldn’t let him, but the way his mouth works expertly against you has any logical thought escaping you at a record speed.

So, instead, you close your eyes and pretend the man between your legs is the one you’re yearning for, and you fade into the pleasure. You grind up against his face, chasing a high that’s never too far off when Mark is on your mind.

This goes on for months. As much as you hate to admit it, you see Mark at least three times a week. You’re not the one going out of your way to see him, and you’re not setting up meetings, so it’s still okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. Jisung wouldn’t even be mad at you.

Things start to fall apart for you when your perfect illusion of everything crumbles. When Mark begins asking to see you, and you still oblige. You make excuses to Jisung about why you’re out more, saying Jiyoon invites you over. He never questions you. Jisung trusts you, and you use that to your advantage.

Being around Mark erases the uniformity of life, and the monotonous days are far, far gone. He makes you feel alive again. Like you can do anything, and like happiness isn’t too far out of reach.

You love Jisung. You love the way he treats you and you’re happy with him, but something’s missing. That something is this—the brief time you spend with Mark, as innocent as it may be. He never touches you or tries to kiss you or anything like that, you just sit and talk. Your soul has always vibed with Mark’s. Something about him has every part of you alive and thriving.

Mark lives in the same apartment building. When he invited you over, you were hesitant. You walk in with the resolve that it’ll be like any other time you’ve seen him, that being alone instead of in public won’t change the way you interact with him.

He hugs you, and you nearly melt into the scent of his all-too-familiar cologne. You’re surprised by the way you want to linger. This whole time, you thought your feelings and actions with Mark were innocent, and that they didn’t affect the way you were with Jisung. The slightest warm touch from the tips of Mark’s fingers are almost enough to send shivers up your spine, almost enough to ignite a fire in the pit of your stomach.

Why are you here? Why did you agree to go to his place?

He hands you a glass of wine before sitting on his couch. You join him, sitting on the opposite end. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you’re seconds away from telling him about Jisung.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Mark says, swirling his wine. “Like this, I mean. You’ve always looked good in here.”

You sip the red liquid. “You’re just saying that.”

“Not true. Walking away from you was a mistake, (Y/N). It’s been years and I still think about you and how hard you tried. I’m really sorry I wasn’t enough back then.” He scoots closer to you, dangerously close. His scent infiltrates your last barrier, and his brows pinch as he scans over your face.

“Mark.” You let out a weak chuckle. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Even if I mean them?”

“Especially if you mean them.”

His chest deflates. He purses his lips and gulps. “How else do I tell you I want you? We could be like we were before. Better, even.”

Your heart races in your chest. You scramble for words, knowing you should shut him down immediately, but nothing comes out. You don’t want to.

Jisung. You have to think of Jisung, and you have to get the hell out of Mark’s apartment. Jisung would be hurt if you entertained this. The talking he could handle. He’d brush it off without a worry, but this? You being so close to another man and aching to—

“Don’t you agree?”

“Mark…” Yes. You agree. You’ve never agreed with something more, but you can’t. You can’t.

“What’s holding you back?” He grabs your glass from you and sets both on the coffee table before coming back, cupping your cheek with that warm fucking hand. “You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you again.”

“M-Mark…” That steel wall suddenly becomes kinetic sand, and it’s crumbling fast.

“You wouldn’t have come here if at least some part of you didn’t want me.” His thumb strokes your skin.

Your chest constricts, and right when you feel the last brick tumble, your phone vibrates in your pocket. Springing away from Mark, you grab the device and look at the screen.

Jisung: hope you’re having fun with jiyoon! i’m going to sleep. love and miss you

Tears well in your eyes and you jolt up off the couch, tugging your fingers through your hair. Mark follows you, reaching out for your wrist. You jerk your arm away and shake your head.

“I need to go.”

As you rush out of his building, everything hits you all at once. Everything you’ve been doing is wrong. Talking to Mark at all should never have happened, especially without Jisung’s knowledge. You’re barely able to breathe by the time you make it to your car. You rest your head against the metal. If you hadn’t left when you did, you would’ve caved. Who knows what would’ve happened? Would you have slept with Mark?

Right before you get in, Mark is behind you, grabbing you and turning you to look at him. You gasp, but as soon as your lips are parted, his mouth is on yours. Instantaneously, you melt, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you’re surprised by how right it feels. It makes the guilt you were feeling disappear once more.

Suddenly, Jisung doesn’t exist anymore. It’s just you and Mark, and the craving for him you’ve always had. You whine into his mouth, and the next thing you know, his jacket falls to the cement with a quiet plop. Pulling away from him, you stare in shock, stunned you would even do something like that.

“Come back upstairs,” he whispers, panting. “I need you so fucking bad.”

“In the car,” you say. “Get in the car.”

His eyes darken, and he steps back to open the backseat for you. He glances around before following, and then you lock the doors. Climbing on top of you, he kisses you gently. Mark has always fit perfectly between your legs, and you were convinced back then that he’d been made just for you, and having him in this position again makes you start to think that again.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, soft gaze trailing over your face.

You reach up and trace along his cheek, humming when the faint blue light of the night around you two shrouds him in a graceful hue. He’s the only thing on your mind. The only thing that matters.

He grips your leg and lifts it over his hip. Pinning it to the seat, his hand trails under your skirt, tapping gently along your thighs. The simple touch sets you on fire, and you know your panties are embarrassingly soaked and only getting worse. You’ve never needed someone like you need Mark Lee.

He rubs you through the lace, sighing. “Fuck, I knew you wanted me, pretty girl. So fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Do something.” You seal your fate with those words, but when he slides the fabric aside and slides his fingers inside you, you don’t even have time to think of the consequences. He catches your whine in his mouth. The slow pace drives you crazy.

Slick sounds fill the car, and you’re glad he left your skirt on. It’ll hopefully stop too much from getting onto the upholstery.

“Mark.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “I need you right now.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, and once he retracts his hand away from you, you hear the tell-tale sound of him unbuckling his belt. You hear the zipper and him pushing down the fabric, and the next thing you know, his cock is lining up with your entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your cheek, your forehead, and then the tip of your nose. “We can take things slow.”

“Please,” you say. “Please.”

You moan as he slowly pushes inside, and you relish in the fact that you don’t have to close your eyes to see him. This really is Mark on top of you, really the one between your legs, and the one who’s stretching you to your limits.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, rocking his hips gently.

He stops when he’s completely seated inside you, the feeling already making your thighs shake. His hips push against yours, and you wish more than anything you could be naked and in his bed. He’s so deep in you, your head lolls back and you push up toward him.

You repeatedly whisper his name, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him down to kiss you. Despite the situation, it’s been so long since someone made love to you. Your activities lately had all been rough with quick endings. Mark gives you time to enjoy him inside you while he gets lost in the constant flutter of your walls around his still cock. He doesn’t move. All he does is kiss you, the motion sweet and soft.

When he pulls back, you whine both from the slide of his throbbing length against your walls and the loss of him so deep. He intertwines your fingers, smiling as he truly begins. His pace is slow, but mind blowing nonetheless. You feel every inch of him, every twitch once he’s buried inside.

You’re floating on a cloud, gripping his hand like your life depends on it. It’s rewarding, as if everything you’ve gone through in your life has led you to this moment, to this backseat with Mark.

This is what you’re missing. Life has been off because you don’t have Mark, and now you know you can do anything. All you need is him.

He sits up on his knees, pulling you closer by your hips. With one hand gripping you firmly, the other moves to rub circles on your sensitive clit. His thumb teases you, and then his thrusts pick up speed. He’s proven how he feels, and both of you are ready to finish even if you never truly want this to end.

You hold onto the seat, but every thrust has your head smacking into the door. It has your mind whirling and your high looming scarily close. Your back arches as you shatter around him, and a scream pours from your mouth. He curses, hips stuttering before his hand slams into the window. The glass is fogged, and as his palm slides down, a squeak follows.

He pushes deeper, so, so deep, before spilling his load inside you.

You sit there with Mark a bit longer than you should. Once he pulls out of you, you truly realize what you’ve done. You kiss him, letting him know you have to get home. He tries to clean you up the best he can, but you reassure him you’ll be okay. With one last kiss, he leaves you alone in your backseat after you promise you’ll text him.

You lay there for a moment, tears pricking your eyes as you slap a hand over your mouth. Jisung will take this car to work tomorrow. The back smells of sex, Mark’s hand print is on the window. Your skirt is most likely ruined, not to mention the lace of your panties. Another man’s cum drips from your entrance while your boyfriend is sound asleep at home.

You drive yourself home in discomfort, quickly doing all you can to get rid of any evidence. The windows are down on the way back, the cool air doing little to help you. You fix your hair as much as possible once you’re parked. Straighten out your skirt. Check the mirror to see if your makeup is smudged. You wipe the excess lipstick, tears flooding down your cheeks. How could you let this happen? Everything was innocent. Nothing was supposed to happen with Mark.

When you walk into your apartment, all the lights are off. You have to walk through your bedroom to get to the bathroom, and you desperately need a shower. Quietly, you try to get through your bedroom without waking the peaceful, sleeping Jisung. He’s innocent in all of this. He deserves better, but you won’t tell him. You can’t hurt him like that.

Right as you think you’ll make it to the bathroom, he stirs. Luckily, he can’t see your state through the dark.

“Hi, baby,” he hums, voice thick with sleep.

“Hi, Ji.” You try your best to hide anything other than neutrality. “I’m just getting in the shower before bed.”

“You’re not gonna kiss me first?”

If you don’t, he’ll find it weird. He may even wake up fully and figure you out in an instant.

If you do, the guilt will tear you apart limb from limb. How could you kiss Jisung right after Mark’s tongue was in your mouth?

“Sorry.” You fake a chuckle. “Of course I will.”

You make your way over to his side of the bed and lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips. He closes his eyes and smiles at you, intertwining his fingers with yours, the same ones that latched with Mark’s a mere half an hour earlier.

“I’m so glad you’re going out and having fun,” he mutters. “Love you, babe.”

Your breath hitches. “I love you, too, Ji. Always.”

You get in the shower, furiously scrubbing your skin as if it’ll erase your actions. Silently, you cry until the tears no longer form. You sit on the tile, legs clutched to your chest as you rock back and forth.

This is all your fault. You let it get this far, and now Jisung will be the one to face the consequences for it.

Unless…

Unless he never finds out.

You’ll stop talking to Mark, and it’ll be like none of this ever happened. Jisung will never know, and you can continue your life with him as it has been.

You calm yourself down, get out of the shower, and get in bed with Jisung.

Even then, you wish it was Mark.

The next morning, Jisung goes to work before you wake up. Your resolve to ignore Mark fails as soon as he texts you. Mark is everything you’ve ever wanted or needed, and regardless of anyone’s feelings, you feel an overwhelming connection to him. But you can’t leave Jisung. You just can’t.

Over the course of the next few months, you continue to see Mark when you can, and Jisung stays unaware. There are some nights where you sleep with Mark, and then come home and sleep with Jisung. Oddly enough, your life feels complete this way. Everything is good, and the guilt of sleeping with another didn’t last. Jisung doesn’t know about Mark, and Mark doesn’t know about Jisung.

Or so you thought.

A few months with both isn’t long enough for you, but one night, when you go to Mark’s, you’re not expecting to find Jisung awake when you get home. Not only is he awake, but all the lights are on, and he’s sitting at the kitchen table. You frown, setting your purse down.

“You’re not in bed?”

“No, (Y/N), I’m not.” His face is cold, not a single emotion portrayed. “Where were you?”

“I was with Jiy—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Your heart sinks, and you let out a shuddering breath. You’ve been so careful. How did he find out?

“I…” You gulp, fists clenching at your sides.

“Who’s Mark?” That one question has your world burning down in flames, and the tears well in your eyes before you can stop them.

“Ji…”

“Don’t lie to spare my feelings.” He laughs bitterly. “I’ve seen the texts. Not to mention the fact Jiyoon told me a while ago that she hasn’t seen you in weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, and a tear rolls down your cheek. “I’m so sorry, Ji, I really never wanted it to go this far—”

“What the fuck did you think would happen?” He scoffs, hands slamming against the table. “What did you honestly think talking to a random fucking guy would turn into? Clearly, you had some sort of idea because you never said a damn word about it to me.”

“I’ve just been…I was sad, okay? Everything was so boring, and—”

“Oh, right, so you cheating on me for months is because I’m boring you. Got it.” His jaw quivers, but he quickly sets it. “And what is it, exactly, about him that gets you so fucking excited?”

You’re silent, but more tears pour down your face.

“Now you want to be shy? You want to feel remorse? Answer the fucking question. What could he possibly fucking have that I don’t?”

“It’s not like that, Ji, you’re not lacking.” You approach the table. “I’m so fucking sorry, none of this is your fault.”

He holds his hand up to stop you from getting closer to him. “Something else I noticed. You know, I wondered what had gotten into you before, when you would get home and immediately jump on my dick. It was unlike you, but looking back after reading those texts, the dates are just…oddly similar.”

“That’s not fair—”

“No, (Y/N), what’s not fair is learning how my girlfriend has been f—” His voice breaks, but he shakes his head and continues, quieter this time. “How my girlfriend has been fucking someone else behind my back because she finds me boring.”

“Please, let me fix this. I need you, okay?”

“No.” He wets his lips, taking a deep breath. “I was a little skeptical at first when Mark came up to me, you know. Didn’t want to believe you could do something like that. But then he showed me the texts. All the times you told him you love being with him. In a few months, you were ready to tell him you wanted to marry him, but after two years with me, you’re not ready?”

You open your mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give you the opportunity.

“The texts before you got physical with him were all reminiscing about your past relationship, and how much you miss it. How much you wish you could have it again, your life’s so bland, blah, blah, blah.” He chews on his bottom lip, hurt finally showing in the swirls of his brown eyes. “All my stuff is gone already. I wanted to tell you that I at least had the decency to leave you instead of leading you on while I fucked someone else. When I walk out of that door, I don’t want you to fucking text me or call me or anything. I want nothing to do with you anymore.”

“Jisung, please…”

“Go ask Mark. You’ve apparently asked him for everything else the past few months. Although, I don’t think he’ll be too keen on answering you either.” Jisung stands, palms still flat on the table. “I fucking gave you everything, and you think it’s boring. And I hope you realize everything you’ve just given up.”

He reaches into his pocket and tosses a small, black box on the table.

“I bought that months ago. Months ago. You can keep it. Not like I have any fucking use for it anymore.” He leaves you standing in shock as he walks to the door and puts his hand on the knob. “Fuck you. I hope the rest of your existence is even a fraction of how miserable I feel right now. I deserve better than this.”

As he slams it shut behind him, you fall to your knees. Tears pour down your face. Mark told Jisung? How did Mark even find out about Jisung? Why would he do that to you?

You pull your phone out of your pocket, frantically typing out a message to Mark. It doesn’t even reach delivered status. You call him one, two, three times, and each one immediately sends you to voicemail. Time passes as you sob to yourself against the hardwood, but you’re unsure how long you’re truly there for.

You’re not sure which hurts worse—the sting of Jisung’s words or Mark being the one who told him everything.

You eventually make it to your feet, and you grab the black box. When you open it, more tears fall. Jisung asked you how you felt about marriage because he wanted to marry you. He’d bought a ring before that conversation, and he’d been holding onto it ever since.

You ruined him. You chewed him up and spit him out all in the name of keeping Mark in your life.

And now, they’re both gone.

That night, you crawl into bed—the one that still smells of Jisung and his cologne—and stare at the ceiling while you sob. Despite him telling you not to, you also try texting and calling Jisung, but those don’t go through either. Even Jiyoon doesn’t answer.

You don’t sleep. You can’t.

And as the sun rises and light infiltrates your windows, so do the faint lyrics of Empire State of Mind.

This time, there’s no Jisung. There’s no Mark. No arm around your waist, no plans to go get coffee. Your face hurts from crying so much, and it hits you then: you did this to yourself. Nobody’s at fault except for you, and you must reap what you sow.

Maybe life was boring before, but at least you hadn’t been alone.

As more tears form, you stare at the ceiling and whisper an apology to Jisung, words he’ll never hear.

He’s gone.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #park jisung #mark smut #mark angst #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #jisung smut #jisung angst #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct angst

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t4tower-of-t4terror · 1 year

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But If I Know You, I Know What You'll Do

Malleus x reader fluff

It gets harder and harder to sleep during nights at Ramshackle. You don't mind your semi-shitty bed and ratty blankets. You've learned to ignore the constant draft and the ghosts and the fact that Grim snores like a vacuum cleaner. You couldn't really do anything about any of that.

It was your dreams that kept you awake. They were often prophetic, showing a drawn-out story like an animated movie playing for hours. You didn't know how they could perfectly mimic your real-life events.

But between these prophecies were something far worse. You dreamed of your old life. Your old home.

Sometimes you woke up crying, longing for the world you left behind. Sometimes you woke up crying because you know that this world, where you will forever be an outlier, is better than that one. Either way, you were tired of crying. You were tired of pulling Grim close to you solely because you needed to know that you weren't alone.

And so sometimes you would walk. Walk outside of Ramshackle. Walk until your feet took you somewhere new. Walk until your thoughts were gone and your tears left weird tracks down your cheeks.

Here you were now, standing in front of Diasomnia. You had walked to the mirror chamber and ended up here. Why here?

You knew subconsciously that you had a fondness for Malleus. But it was just a fondness. That is all it could be. That is all you would let it be.

And yet.

Here you were, in front of the fae prince's doorstep. You had walked through their stone gates. Somehow the large wooden door in front of the dorm had opened for you, as if it knew who you were searching for.

Your feet dragged. It was late, but you knew he would be awake. He always was at this hour. You trudged to his door, knocking against the wood.

When Malleus opened it, he was shocked to see you, of all people.

"Child of man, what are you doing in Diasomnia?" Malleus asked, before noticing the tear tracks. Noticing how you shook, not from the ever-present chill of the dorm, with it's neon green flames.

He ushers you into his room. Into the soft green candlelight. He looks so pretty in the moments where you can feel the tenderness in his gaze. The flickering light emphasizes his inhuman nature, carving out the valleys of his sharpened cheekbones. You understand why so many revere him, especially in this environment.

"Are you alright?" you can hear the soft concern in his voice.

And then the dam breaks.

He is the prince of Briar Valley, and yet he holds you so close. You feel like glass in his embrace, like you will shatter if he lets go of you.

You cry about the way you don't want to go back to that old world. You don't want to see those people again. It's so much kinder to live in an existence where your past cannot get you. Where the people who hurt you don't even exist.

But it's ironic to you that the world where you are forever outcasted is the kinder one. The world where you are forced to clean up other people's messes, to put others back together after they fall apart. Overblots and kidnappings and more fucking overblots! And nobody can even comprehend why you're so tired.

And Malleus, tall beautiful faerie prince Malleus, listens to every word. And he pulls you close and runs his hand through your hair. And he tells you that he will make this world kinder for you if he needs to burn it all down and start it all from scratch.

But when he takes your hand, he winces. When you pull his fingers away, you realize your ring had scorched him.

"My apologies for my reaction. Is your ring by any chance made of iron?" he asks, his voice smooth and rumbling like thunder in a summer storm.

You nod, not trusting your voice. That ring was wedged deep in your pocket when you had showed up here. It was one of your only reminders that your old world had even existed, besides your existing memories.

"Ah. Iron tends to burn fae folk like myself. You by no means have to remove it, I just thought you would benefit from the knowledge"

And you slid it off of your finger in that instant. You stand before a man who promised to make you safe and happy, and he expects you to hold onto the things that harm him?

The metal clatters against the dark hardwood. It says more than any words exchanged between the two of you could possibly convey. You take his hand into yours and lift his palm to brush your lips against the wound. You both are aware of your lack of magic, but Malleus swears he has been healed in that moment.

Malleus pulls you to his bed. His covers are the most beautiful smoky purple you have ever seen. They feel lavish. You sink into the warmth. He sinks beside you.

When you are comfortable beneath the sheets, you are pulled to rest on Malleus' chest. He holds your hand while you lay, with one arm around you.

The two of you have all the time in the world for words. All the time this universe will provide to ask each other what was to come of this. But tonight you would let the soft scent of briar roses and smoke lull you to sleep.

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lolahasmoxie · 2 years

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Sleep Tight - E.M.

Pairing: Single Dad Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Word Count: 3.8K (this may have gotten away from me)

Warning: fluff, idiots to lovers, a couple of curse words

Notes: This has been living in my brain for days, and I had to get it out. So everywhere I've read Eddie as a dad, he has a little girl. Don't get me wrong, I love it. But can you imagine him with a little boy who is his tiny doppelganger? Dead.

For this, I picture Eddie and Reader as having known each other since they were kids, and both were close growing up. Eddie flunked his first senior year, and reader graduated and left Hawkins for college. They kept in touch for a while but eventually drifted apart. She returns to Hawkins and reconnects with Eddie and his 4-year-old son. Mom has been out of the picture since he was born, and I picture Eddie as a mechanic who plays with Corroded Coffin on the weekends.

Eddie and Reader are 28 in this (takes place in 1994). An AU where the Upside Down doesn't exist, and Eddie lives.

Divider from @firefly-graphics

"Daddy, rain!"

Eddie and Y/N paused from the couch as they looked at the small four-year-old excitedly pointing out the window. The rain shouldn't have been a surprise; it had been gray and overcast all day. Eddie walked over to the front window, looked outside, and noticed a bright flash of lightning followed by thunder less than three seconds later. Before he could say anything, the skies opened up, and a torrential downpour began to beat on his roof.

"Crap, I should probably leave if I'm gonna make it home in one piece," Y/n pondered as she joined the two Munson boys at the window.

"Are you insane? There's no way I'm letting you leave now." Y/N had joined Eddie at his home for dinner instead of at Benny's due to his son's babysitter canceling last minute. The three had spent the evening playing, eating pizza, and finally settling to watch Ghostbusters. She had been on the verge of excusing herself for the evening when the storm had come upon them.

"Eds, my car will be fine. Besides, I can't stay the night." Y/N casually tried to motion to his son, who was now staring at her and preparing himself to bring out the big guns.

"But I thought we were having fun." Ronnie Wayne Munson was his father on a 24-year delay. He had the same wild curly brown hair and brown cow eyes as Eddie, and based on how he looked at Y/N, she knew his father had taught him how to use them to his advantage.

"Look, far be it for me to question the integrity of your Honda, but it’s not like this would be the first time you had to stay; you used to crash all the time when we were kids. Besides, it's unsafe to be on the road right now. You can't even see the house across the street!". Y/N turned back towards the window, and she had to admit that Eddie was right. Even with streetlights, the house across the street was nearly impossible to see. She sighed before looking at Eddie and his boy standing next to him, both with expectant looks on their eager faces.

"Okay, I'll stay."

"Hooray!" Ronnie yelled as he ran up to give her a hug. Eddie beamed at Ronnie. He was usually reserved around new people, but as soon as Y/N had reappeared in Hawkins two months ago after a ten-year absence, Ronnie had taken an instant liking to her. The little boy seemed as infatuated with her as his father had been years before.

"So, how late is this party going to go on?" Y/N asked as Ronnie climbed back onto the couch.

"Well, little man's bedtime is usually 7pm..." Ronnie looked at Eddie with a sad face. Y/N had just agreed to stay the night; it was unfair that he would have to go to bed soon. "but since tonight is a special occasion, I think we can watch one more movie."

"Yes!" Y/N couldn't help but chuckle as Ronnie did a triumphant dance before jumping off the couch. "Can we watch Nightmare Before Christmas?"

"Sure, let's get you into your jammies."

"I'll make the popcorn." Y/N motioned to the kitchen, and Eddie quickly told her where everything was. As she popped the bag in the microwave, she couldn't help but smile at the giggles emanating from Ronnie's bedroom. Eddie now lived in a small house on a quiet street near the edge of town, which felt warm and cozy like his and Wayne's old trailer. The coffee rack in the kitchen now held Eddie's mugs instead of Wayne's, and his beloved Sweetheart sat in the corner of the living room next to his acoustic and amp. Above the well-loved couch were numerous pictures, ranging from Eddie's graduation to him holding his newborn son in the hospital. There were several with the two of them and Wayne, and even one of her and Eddie from back in 83.

The sound of little feet coming from the hallway pulled her from her thoughts, and soon she was greeted by Ronnie, who was now wearing dinosaur pajamas. He ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her leg. He leaned up to give her a big toothy grin.

"Hi," he said cheerfully, and Y/N couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, don't you look comfy? You ready for the movie?" He nodded gleefully as the timer for the microwave went off. She carefully removed the bag and poured the contents into a bowl, handing it to Ronnie when he made it clear that he had to help her. "Two hands, go slow, ok?". He nodded, his little tongue sticking out in concentration as he made the short journey to the living room. They both sat on the couch while Eddie quickly popped the VHS into the tape player, pausing to turn off the living room lights before he sat down.

Ronnie sat between the two of them, and the three of them snacked as they watched the movie. The kid was on cloud nine, happily eating popcorn and singing along to the movie. Eddie's arm eventually rested on the back of the couch, causing Y/N to blush whenever his fingertips brushed the top of her shoulder. When the popcorn was gone, the bowl was moved to the side, and Ronnie took this as his cue to make himself more comfortable.

"Whoa, we don't climb on our guests." Eddie chided as he watched his son climb onto Y/N's lap. He was worried it would make her uncomfortable, but he was pleasantly surprised when she put her feet on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around Ronnie's stomach, letting him rest his back against her chest.

"He's fine, now hush."

"Yeah, Daddy, the movie's on." Eddie's eyes bulged from being sassed by not only his son but also his childhood friend. As the evening progressed, he kept stealing glances at the two of them. From the way Y/N would rub Ronnie's stomach to how they would occasionally whisper and giggle with each other, his emotions were all over the place. As the rain continued to beat against the roof, Ronnie eventually gave in to sleep. When the credits finally rolled, he was sleeping contentedly on Y/N's lap, her hand rubbing over his tummy soothingly.

"That kid usually has to be dragged kicking and screaming to go to bed," Eddie commented as he gingerly reached over to take Ronnie from Y/N. She grinned as she handed him over, stretching her arms above her head once he was safely in his father's arms. "Hey, once I get him in bed, would you be up for a movie?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure. Do you have anything I could change into?"

"I've got you, be right back." Y/N watched as he disappeared down the hallway into Ronnie's room. To be honest, when she had run into Eddie on her first day back in town, she had expected it to be awkward. After all, they hadn't seen each other in ten years. Yet, in the two months they had spent reconnecting, it felt like no time had passed at all. They quickly fell back into their dynamic, which had been created over numerous sleepovers and hangouts during their childhood. When Eddie returned to the living room he held up a clothing item in each hand.

"Okay, so the boxers are old and very stretched out, but they're clean, and the shirt was a gag gift from Henderson."

"Gag gift?" she asked, and had to bite her lip when Eddie unfurled an oversized shirt that had "Virginia is for Lovers" emblazoned across the front. "That is amazing."

"Go change; I'll pick the movie. Horror okay?" Y/N nodded as she shuffled into the bathroom. Eddie hummed to himself as he tried to pick a movie for them to watch. He was mentally preparing to keep his cool when he heard the bathroom door open a few minutes later. Whatever composure he had quickly flew out the window when he saw her adorned in his clothes, and she looked at him expectedly as she waited for him to say something. "Um, everything fits ok?"

"Yeah, the boxers are a tad tight around the thighs, but it's no biggie. Now, what are we watching?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I haven't seen "The Thing" in ages."

"Fuck," she chuckled as she sat back down on the couch. "I think the last time I saw it was with you." Eddie popped in the video and sat next to Y/N.

"Well then, let's get to it, shall we?" The movie started, but it wasn't long before Eddie and Y/N started talking. Old inside jokes and stories passed between them, quickly resulting in giggles that they tried to keep quiet so they wouldn't wake Ronnie. When the movie ended, they kept talking, the rain becoming static noise as their conversation moved to their love lives.

"Wait, he cheated on you?" Eddie asked incredulously as Y/N took a sip from her beer.

"Yeah, had a side piece for like two months before he finally had the balls to break up with me. You want to know something funny?" Eddie shook his head as he watched her settle into the cushions more, a sigh leaving her lips. "I wasn't even that mad about it."

"You'd been with the guy for over the year, and he cheated; I'm shocked you didn't set his car on fire. Fuck, Jason Carver started that rumor about you sophomore year, and you took a bat to his headlights." Y/N giggled at the memory.

"I also told the cheerleading team he had a micro-penis, but that's not the point. And don't get me wrong, it sucked that he didn't have the balls to just break up when he realized he didn't want me anymore. But, in the end, I wasn't angry like I thought I would be."

"You were together a while, though." Y/N sighed as she thought over her response.

"When I was little, I remember asking my Mom why she married my Dad. She said it was because she felt this spark every time she saw him; she said she knew from their first date that he was the one for her. Over a year with Daniel, and I never once had that feeling." She paused as she turned to look at Eddie. "Did you ever feel that way with Ronnie's mom?"

"Veronica?" asked before running a hand over his hair, letting out a heavy sigh as he thought about his son's mother. "We weren't together long before we found out she was pregnant, we hadn't been very serious before, but since there was a kid on the way, we decided to give it a shot. Turns out we were two puzzle pieces from two different puzzles."

"When did she leave?"

"Left when Ronnie was 3 months old. Said motherhood wasn't for her, and she felt it would be best if Ronnie didn't grow up with a Mom who resented him." Y/N nodded in understanding before letting out a loud yawn. "Alright, that's enough sad shit for tonight. Let's call it a night."

"Just toss me a pillow and blanket, and I'll be fine out here."

"Or," Eddie started with a hopeful gleam in his eye. "We could make this like old times, and we can share my bed." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he put his hands up defensively to plead his case. "I know what you're thinking, but we won't be crammed on a double like old times. I upgraded to a Queen and," he paused as he let out a puff of air. "would be nice to have someone else in the bed, you know?" The air was tense for a moment, but it disappeared for Eddie when she gave him a sleepy smile and motioned for him to lead the way.

Eddie's room was different now that he was an adult. The bed was on a frame instead of the floor, and the tan-colored walls had pictures of Ronnie and Wayne instead of metal band posters. He had a tall dresser, and above it was a small bulletin board covered in concert tickets and wristbands. It was surrounded by Corroded Coffin fliers for The Hideout, where the boys still played when they had the time. Y/N stood quietly in the doorway while watching Eddie pull back the comforter.

"Alright, any preference on a side, m'lady?"

"I'll take the right side. And I swear to God, if you dutch oven me, I’m gonna punch you right in the dick."

"Holy shit. I did that once, and in my defense, it was over 15 years ago."

"It was traumatic. Smelled like a sumo wrestler took a dump on a burning pile of hair." She giggled as Eddie tossed a pillow at her.

"The fuck it did; it was not that bad."

"Well, it didn't sell like sunshine and roses either!" Her giggles stopped as they both stood on opposite sides of the bed. He looked at her like he wanted to say something, and she found herself unable to look away as she returned his gaze. It was over in a second as he shook his head and motioned for her to climb in.

"Fair warning, Ronnie is an early bird and will likely be in here at an ungodly hour."

"Thanks for the warning," she replied as she yawned, feeling sleep calling for her as she savored the perfection that was Eddie's bed. Their backs were towards each other as he leaned over and turned off the bedside lamp, the only light now coming from the slivers of moonlight through the window. Just before she succumbed to sleep, she heard Eddie's soft voice in the quiet of the room.

"Night, Y/N."

"Night, Eddie."

It started when she heard crying in her dreams, but what fully woke her was Eddie getting out of bed. It was only then that she realized the crying was coming from Ronnie's room. She followed him, Ronnie's cries pulling at her heart as she wondered what could have possibly haunted him in his sleep. She stood in the doorway of his room, watching Eddie with Ronnie in his arms.

"Come on little man, it's okay. I've got you, bud." Eddie ran a hand over his son's back as he paced the room, pausing when he saw Y/N in the doorway. "Shit, I didn't mean to wake you." Before she could respond, Ronnie realized she was in the room. Fidgeting in Eddie's hold, he held his arms out for Y/N. Eddie saw a look of shock take hold of her, but it was gone in a flash. Before he could blink, she had Ronnie's small body against her chest as she started cooing in a soothing voice.

"Now, what has you crying so hard, huh?" Y/N rubbed Ronnie's back as his sobs began to turn to soft cries. She turned to exit the room, and Eddie followed like a sailor caught by a siren. He watched as she walked past the living room into the kitchen. She pulled a carton of milk from his fridge, now holding his son on her hip as if that was where he was always supposed to be. "Eddie, where do you keep your glasses?"

Snapping out of his trance, he shuffled across the kitchen to stand behind Y/N. He reached up to open the cabinet, a hand on her shoulder as he pulled down three glasses. He watched as she lined them up before opening the milk jug and pouring it until all three glasses were full. She motioned to the microwave, and Eddie nodded. As he set the timer Y/N placed Ronnie on the counter and cradled his face, her thumbs gently wiping his tear-stained cheeks.

"Wanna tell us what woke you up?"

"We were at the park, and I couldn't find you or daddy when it was time to go. I kept yelling, but you weren't there." A new round of tears was about to fall, but she simply smiled as she took Ronnie's hands in hers.

"Don't cry, your Daddy and I are right here. See?" Ronnie looked from Y/N to his father, and Eddie gave him a small smile and wave as the timer for the microwave went off. Eddie brought the glasses over, and Y/N took one and held it to Ronnie. He took it and looked up at Y/N.

"What's this?"

"When I was little and I had bad dreams, my mom would give me a glass of warm milk. Then we would turn the TV on and watch it until I got sleepy. Sound like something you would be interested in?" Ronnie nodded as he lifted the glass to his lips. Y/N and Eddie did the same, and when they were done, she lifted Ronnie from the counter and carried him to the living room. "Your dad will find something good for us to watch, right?"

"Comfort TV, coming right up." Y/N sat with Ronnie's little head against her chest, her hand running over his back as Eddie found a rerun of The Addams Family on Nick at Nite. From his spot crouched on the floor, so many thoughts ran through his head as he watched Y/N comfort his son; he couldn't quite catch what they all were. But despite the late hour, he knew deep down that it felt right.

It took almost an hour for Ronnie to fall asleep, and by the time he had, Y/N was leaning heavily against Eddie's arm. She had spent nearly the entire time talking to him softly and rubbing his back. Eddie shut the TV off as Y/N carefully walked to Ronnie's room. She carefully placed him in his bed, covering him with his blanket before she ran her hand over his soft brown hair. Content that he would be asleep until the morning, she stood and noticed Eddie watching her from the doorway. He was wearing the same expression he'd had before they'd gone to bed. She gave him a soft smile before walking past him to his bedroom.

She heard Eddie close Ronnie's door, but before she reached the bed, she felt his hand on her wrist. She turned and, seeing his expression, her brows furrowed in curiosity as he pulled her closer. She called his name but lost her voice when he raised his hand. It cradled her jaw, his thumb running over her cheek as his eyes bore down. He lowered his head, and without saying a word, he pressed his lips to hers.

Y/N had wondered multiple times growing up what it would be like to kiss Eddie Munson; she figured that just came with having a best friend of the opposite sex. But as his other hand came to cradle her face, she realized that this moment was miles better than anything her schoolgirl imagination could concoct. Her eyes closed as his lips trailed to her cheeks, followed by her nose and forehead. She felt her heart racing when he rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you."

"Eddie,"

"Since I was 10 years old. Fuck," he chuckled as he reached down and took her hands. "I think I loved you before I even knew what that was." The room was quiet as they stood there in the dark, and Eddie wondered if he had royally screwed everything up because she wasn't saying anything. Then he felt her thumb run over the back of his hand.

"You didn't say anything," she said softly. Her eyes now were looking into his. "You let me leave for Chicago without saying anything."

"I know. Hands down, one of the worst moments in my life was watching you drive away."

"But why?" she implored. "Why wouldn't you say something?" Eddie sighed as he looked down at the floor. He only spoke when he felt her squeeze his hand.

"You were always better than Hawkins, better than me. You were destined for fancy dinner parties where assholes like me just serve the drinks." Eddie was no stranger to rejection in his life; he often wondered if it was just a part of his DNA at this point. Then he felt her hand cup his chin, forcing his face to look at her.

"It's sweet you think so highly of me, but I don't want any of that, not if you're not next to me to enjoy said drinks." Before Eddie could respond, she pulled his face down and kissed him. His hands found their way to her hips, her shirt bunching in his hold when she pressed her tongue against the seam of his lips. There was no rush, no hurry as they kissed in the dark. Eddie felt what Y/N's mother had talked about, a spark he could only hope she felt in return. When she pulled her lips away, he pulled her body closer. He pressed his nose into her neck as she ran a hand over his hair.

"Let's go out on Friday."

"A date?" she asked hopefully. She felt him nod as she felt him inhale deeply.

"A proper date, the one I should have asked you on in high school," he said as he rose to his full height. "It's been a while since Ronnie's had a sleepover at Wayne's; we'll do dinner and a movie; what do you say?"

"Pick me up at 7, and you have yourself a deal." Eddie beamed down at her before leaning down to steal another kiss.

"We'd better get some sleep before my demon spawn wakes us up at an ungodly hour." Y/N chuckled as they both climbed into the bed. Instead of sleeping back to back, now she was curled into Eddie's side, her head on his chest and her arm slung over his torso. The feel of his fingers tracing over her arm made her eyes droop, and as she drifted off into sleep, she could faintly feel his lips on her head as he whispered unheard words to her.

Eddie woke when the sun from the window moved over his face. He first noticed that his arms no longer held Y/N, and he wondered for a brief moment if it had all been a wonderful dream. But then he felt a slight movement to his left. Y/N was sleeping on her side, facing him, and between them was Ronnie. His son was sprawled on his back, his sleep shirt had ridden up to show his stomach, and his tiny hand was holding onto Y/N's even in sleep. He knew in an instant that was what he wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of his life.

Tonight, when Wayne came to visit, he was going to ask for his grandmother's ring. Eddie knew he wasn't the smartest guy in the world, but he was sure of this. He was going to make Y/N his wife before the year was out.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson

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