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#fic: desperate times desperate measures
princington · 1 year
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desperate times, desperate measures ch 2
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callsigndragon · 1 year
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You see this??? Remember this pic. It will come back if you're following my series Desperate Times Desperate Measures
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gummy-sharks666 · 3 months
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My philosophy for fic writing is basically this is mainly just self indulgent and it probably sucks but I’m posting it anyway 🔥🔥🔥
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spencer-is-dead · 10 months
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Considering Ao3 is currently under attack, I’ve got to deliver my fics here. I’ll post this on Ao3 when this whole mess is over . Hope you enjoy :) forgive me for bad formatting I’m not used to posting on here
One more year
By MDSpencer
Tags:
Rating: G
Category: F/M, Gen
Ships: Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Loid Forger | Twilight & Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess & Anya Forger
Characters: Anya Forger, Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess
Other tags: Angst, hurt no comfort
Summary: Operation Strix is over, yet he promises he’ll come home one day
Yor slowly, carefully pours the wine into their glasses, careful not to spill a drop onto the carpet. Her husband watches patiently, until he is handed his glass. He takes a sip, as Yor sits down on the couch.
“So,” she said, careful to keep her voice in a low whisper, so that their sleeping daughter wouldn’t hear, “You leave tomorrow.”
Loid nods, taking another sip. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. They had both known it had been coming for a long time, ever since their true identities had been revealed to each other. But only now did it feel real.
“How?” She asks, “Car crash?”
“Most likely,” he says.
Yor gently touched her glass to his, making a soft clink that barely filled the silence.
“I don’t want to go,” he said, staring out the window. “But it comes with the job.”
Yor sighed. Two years now, she’d known he was a spy. It had come as a shock, but after a bit things started to click into place.
And two years, he’d known she was an assassin.
Anya didn’t know anything. They’d both agreed to tell her later.
But there would never be a later.
“You’ve got to act like I’m dead, okay? I might as well be,” he said. “I’d like to say I’ll keep in touch, but we both know that’s not happening.”
“Don’t say that,” Yor said, kissing his hand. “You never know.”
“I don’t,” he responded. Yor scooched closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He let out a long, drawn out sigh. “I’m going to miss you both.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” she said. She was starting to get a little drunk.
“Promise me one thing,” Loid said, pulling something from his pocket. It was a letter. “Give this to Anya on her eighteenth birthday, if I don’t come back. I’ll try to come back by then.”
Yor snatched the letter.
“Don’t open it yet,” he said, pushing the letter down. “Save it.”
Yor nodded, setting the letter down.
“What flowers do you want at your funeral?” Yor asked, giggling.
“Roses will do,” he said, “I don’t mind. Whatever you think is best, my love.”
He kisses her. Softly, at first. He puts down his glass as she puts down hers, and he runs his fingers through her hair. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him towards her. Her lips taste like the wine, but they’re somehow sweeter. He knows he could never say everything he felt towards her, but a kiss was the second best option.
Yor pulled away, playfully tussling his hair.
“I love you, Loid,” she whispers into his ear. He feels his face go red. “I don’t want this to end.”
“Don’t think about that now,” he says. “Let this be our world for now. There’s no evil, nothing holding us down, only us.”
And they kiss, again and again, because they both know it’ll never be enough. He wants to remember her touch forever, and she wants to remember the way he kissed her.
They both want to take this love and hold it close to their hearts, where no one could hurt it.
But they always knew it wouldn’t last.
They talk for a long time, in quiet, hushed tones, until the clock on the wall reads two AM.
Yor is fast asleep. She drools, Loid notes, all over his shoulder. He doesn’t mind.
He kisses her on the forehead, hoping that it wouldn’t be their last.
“Have to go to work,” he whispered to her. He places a pillow under her head, and takes one last look at his house.
And he’s gone.
She knew he wasn’t dead.
She knew her mother was lying.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry out. She wanted to punch someone.
She wanted her papa.
And he’d promised Yor he was coming back.
And Yor didn’t know when.
Anya Forger wasn’t foolish, she knew about her father’s job. She knew how dangerous it was, how many times he’d almost died. She would never understand the full extent of what her Papa went through to keep her and all other children safe.
He’d wanted to make a world where children didn’t have to cry.
Yet she was crying.
Crying because this stupid world was so unfair, crying because she couldn't have what she wanted, crying because the person who’d given her so much love had simply…disappeared.
And she couldn’t do anything about it.
The funeral was not, in any way shape or form, pleasant.
She hadn’t wanted to go in the first place. She wouldn’t mourn someone who was dead. But Yor had begged her to go. So she’d put on her best black clothes and dolled herself up.
She’d been forced to sit through over an hour of coworkers talking about him. Or at least, talking about Loid Forger. They didn’t know the real him. Her real Papa, who found it hard to cry. Her real Papa, who found it hard to say “I love you”.
Loid Forger was gone, but that didn’t mean her real Papa was.
Yor set the cake on the table, lighting the 1 and 4 candles. Anya stared at it, disinterested.
It was her first birthday without her father.
Yor had kept the letter locked in a drawer, so that she wouldn’t be tempted to read it. It was Anya’s letter, after all.
Yor started to sing Happy birthday. When she was finished, Anya blew out the candles.
“Happy birthday!” Yor said, clapping.
Anya gave a small smile, before starting to cut the cake.
She and Yor had baked it themselves. It had proven to be a difficult task, but they’d managed.
Yor had thought that, at first, Anya was getting a slice for herself. But, instead, she set the slice of cake at another seat.
Loid’s seat.
“Oh,” she said quietly. “Anya, you don’t have to-“
“I want to,” she said. “It’s for Papa.”
Yor sighed, setting down the lighter. She grabbed herself a slice.
“Do you miss him a lot?” Yor asked.
Anya didn’t look up when she said “yeah, a lot.”
She wondered where he was. What he was doing. If he was safe.
She wished they could just talk. Just talk like the old days. She wished she could hold him in her arms, kiss him forever.
He promised he’d come back.
Soon.
Let it be soon.
~~~~~~~~~~
She nervously held the letter in her lap, glancing at the door like she was expecting it to open.
She didn’t want to open the letter.
Opening it would mean accepting it.
Anya had set out a slice of cake for Loid, like she did every year. Their cakes had slowly gotten better, to the point of being edible.
She wondered if Loid would be proud of her.
Yor placed the letter on the desk, and glanced at the door again.
It’s been five years.
He promised he’d be back.
“Mama, what’s that?”
“Nothing,” Yor said, putting the letter back on her lap.
Anya snatched the letter up, turning it over. “It’s got no address.”
“Anya, give it back.”
Anya pulled the letter close to her body, shaking her head.
She tore through the paper, pulling out the letter inside.
Her eyes scanned over the paper, drinking in the words.
Her eyes started to well up.
“Papa,” she mumbled, before balling the paper up and throwing it on the floor. She ran to her room.
“Anya, wait!” Yor shouted. Signing, she picked up the letter. She smooths out the wrinkles.
Dear Anya,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I wish I could be with you tonight. But the truth is I’m dead. Not in the way you think. I didn’t die in a car crash. If I haven’t come home, I’ve most likely died in my work.
The truth is I’m a spy for the West. I know it might be hard to believe, but it’s the truth. I needed a child for the mission. You were just supposed to be an asset. But I loved you. I loved you and Yor more than anything.
Yor knows this already, she has her own secrets, but those are her to divulge. As of writing this, I have two days left before I ‘die’ and I want you to know, more than anything, that I love you. I love you so much. I want to say it over and over, but I can’t.
I miss you already, Anya.
I don’t want to lose you two. But I guess that’s just how it goes.
With love,
Loid Forger
She doesn’t understand at first.
And then it hits her.
He wasn’t coming home.
“Loid,” she whispered. “God, I love you.”
And she cried. Cried and cried like a baby, because she misses him.
More than anything.
The house he’s come to live in is far from a home, but he makes do.
He’s baked a cake, making the house smell like vanilla. He sets the cake out on the table. He didn’t have anything to frost it with, but an unfrosted cake would have to do.
He pushed the candle into it, lighting it with a match.
“Happy Birthday, Anya,” he whispered. “I promise I’ll come home soon. Just give me one more year.”
He blows the candle out.
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iamnotarobin · 10 months
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omg i just remembered i have an 18th century historical rpf fic saved on my phone
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gaylittlehobi · 10 months
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so… where is hoseok gay community on this app
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bbnibini · 10 months
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When will I ever get a new UR in the free pull? Yes this is a callout post to YOU 🫵 UR Believer Barbatos card 😤
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autistic-in-purple · 4 months
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Anyone got any good HTTYD fic
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artiststarme · 5 months
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Steve looking up at Uncle Wayne as the father figure he never had. Unlike his dad, he doesn’t cheat or disappear from his life when things get tough. Eddie loves it because it means he can see his boyfriend even more. It’s all fun and games until Steve goes to his father figure to complain about his boyfriend leaving him at a McDonald’s after a fight they had. Then Eddie has to deal with an upset boyfriend, a disappointed uncle, and an angry Robin to boot.
He has no choice but to take desperate measures. Eddie tells Hopper that Wayne is trying to take his “cool dad” spot in the Party and watches the chaos unfold.
By time anyone realizes what he’s done, he’s made up with Steve and escapes another murderous rage by the skin of his teeth. Mission accomplished, indeed.
Should I make this into a longer fic? I feel like I could go places with this lol
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Honey Girl. Chapter Five.
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Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.7k
Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.
Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.
A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.
It's been three months since you left home.
It's been three months since you saw Bucky.
He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.
He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.
You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.
The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.
Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.
And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.
On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.
You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"This is ridiculous."
Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.
"Good ridiculous?"
She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.
"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."
Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.
"I need these on the menu."
"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."
"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."
"Okay. Fine."
You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.
You know it's because of your Tethering.
Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.
And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.
Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.
It takes time to adjust.
No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.
For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.
For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.
Both are valid. Both are understandable.
You remind yourself of this every day.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."
The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.
"Who is it?"
"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."
Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?
You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.
You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.
He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.
"Hi."
"Hey. Are you the baker here?"
"I am."
He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.
"I'm Rafael."
You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.
"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."
You don't say anything, so he continues.
"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."
He takes a deep breath before continuing.
"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."
You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.
"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."
You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.
You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.
"You're really talented, you know."
"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."
His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.
"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."
"You'd do that for her?"
"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."
"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."
He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.
"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."
He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.
"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."
You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.
"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."
The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,
"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."
His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."
"You guys are married?"
"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."
"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"
You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.
"He's my Dad's best friend."
You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.
"Woah."
"Yeah."
"That... is complicated."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."
Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.
"How did your parents react?"
"They don't know yet."
His eyebrows raise almost comically high.
"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."
"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."
"Understatement of the century," he laughs.
You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.
"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."
"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."
He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.
"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."
"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"
"Sure does."
You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."
"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."
"Thanks, Rafael."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Of course."
That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."
"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."
"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"
"What kind of surprise?"
"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."
"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."
"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."
"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."
"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."
"I know," you smile. "I know."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.
You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.
You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.
You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.
You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.
You know who it is.
A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.
You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.
He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.
He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.
He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.
"You're here."
You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.
"I'm here."
Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.
"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."
He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.
"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.
"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."
"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."
"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."
"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"
He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.
"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."
You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.
"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.
"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."
"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."
"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."
"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."
"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.
"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."
"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.
He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.
"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."
"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."
"Miss you more."
He looks at you, smiling.
"Man, we're the worst."
"Truly."
He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.
It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.
There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.
"Surprise!"
You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.
"Oh my God! You guys!"
She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.
He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.
"I got you something. I hope you like it."
That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.
"Happy Birthday, Mama."
She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.
She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.
"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."
"Missed you. You look beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."
You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.
"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."
You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.
You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The night goes off without a hitch.
You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.
What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.
When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.
"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"
His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.
"I have to."
"Oh yeah?"
"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."
He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.
"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."
"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."
His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.
"One dance," you whisper.
He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.
I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.
Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"That was close!"
Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.
"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."
"Mama, are you sure?"
"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."
"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."
She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.
"Love you both."
"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"
"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"
You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.
"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."
You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.
"It's not the same here without you."
You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.
You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.
"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"
He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.
"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."
"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."
"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."
"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."
He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."
He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.
"Okay. I promise."
You whip your head around to look at him.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."
"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"
"I know. I feel it."
You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.
"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.
"I have. What for?"
"The couch."
You process for a moment before it clicks.
"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."
"No?"
"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."
He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.
You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."
You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.
"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."
Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.
"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."
You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.
Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.
"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"
You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.
"Please, Buck. Anything."
"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."
He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.
"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Yeah?"
"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."
Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.
"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.
You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.
Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.
You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.
He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.
"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."
You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.
He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.
"You good?"
"So good," you grin. "Never better."
"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.
"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."
"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."
You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.
Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.
You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.
"Buck, I-"
"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."
"Need you to move, baby."
He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.
"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."
Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.
He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.
"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."
The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.
Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.
He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.
"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.
"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.
Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.
"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."
You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.
"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.
The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.
Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.
Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.
"I don't want you to go."
The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.
"I don't think I want to go."
He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.
"You have to, baby. It's your dream."
Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.
"You're my dream."
Bucky sniffles, and you continue.
"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."
You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.
"We'll be okay, my honey girl."
You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.
"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.
You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.
You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.
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tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff   @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
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talaok · 7 months
Text
Mornin', Birthday girl
Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader
Summary: it's your birthday, and Joel and your daughters have planned the perfect morning
Warnings: A bunch of overly fluffy smut (cause, as we've established, im delusional): Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie.
a/n: Guess what, it's my b-day!!! And since I'm delulu I wrote myself a little birthday fic as a present (the fact that this is not my real life is such bullshit tbh) and i thought why not post it on here? maybe today's someone else's birthday too and that would be a nice surprise for them, no?
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Sleep was still holding you captive when Joel started positioning himself, making the bed creak with his every movement and cussing internally each time, until finally, he was where he needed to be, right between your thighs.
And what a place to be.
A soft smile pulled at his lips as he watched you peacefully sleeping, your mouth slightly parted, your chest slowly rising and falling... You looked like an angel even when asleep, and his heart filled with that warmth only you knew how to create.
But enough of that, he had to get to work before you woke up.
He gingerly placed his hands on the outer side of your thighs, before slowly, oh so slowly, leaning down to start a trail of small kisses from your navel down to your clit, feeling your body react to his every move.
You still hadn't woken when he glanced up, so for good measure, he flattened his tongue and licked your whole slit like an ice cream cone, and like clockwork, your eyes snapped open.
"b-baby?" your voice was more of a whisper as you finally found the source of your sudden awakening.
"Good mornin', birthday girl" Joel murmured, wasting no time before bending down to taste you again.
"oh my god" you whimpered, having woken from a dream just to get thrown into a new one.
Good morning indeed
"I might just get used to this" A breathy chuckle left your lips, as he licked and sucked your cunt like it was his duty.
"Oh yeah?" the vibrations of his voice made a shiver run up your spine as he answered "I might too" he smirked "I'll just start having you for breakfast"
Your ability to tease and speak quickly disappeared when two of his thick digits plunged into your heat.
"Oh f-fuck" you choked, your hand quickly reaching for his locks to have something to hold onto as he started curling and moving his fingers inside of you, and his mouth closed on your bud to suck on it greedily.
"O-Oh- baby" your back arched from the bed, as he groaned at the feel of your walls tightening around him.
"fuck, you're delicious darlin'"
but you could only hum a low "Oh god" as your legs wrapped around him and your hips started desperately grinding on his face of their own accord.
It didn't take long before your orgasm was approaching, and your legs were shaking.
"C'mon mama" he murmured "Give it to me"
And that's all you needed.
Joel watched hypnotized as you threw your head back, your left hand going to your tits as your right hand gripped his hair for dear life.
He didn't stop, letting you ride out your high until your breathing had become more even, and your fingers in his hair had relaxed.
A soft smile pulled at his lips as he crawled up to meet his lips with yours in a sweet kiss.
"Happy birthday, sugar" he beamed
"thank you, baby" you whispered, one of your hands reaching for his cheek to guide him down for another kiss.
And as the kiss grew hotter, and his hands started roaming every inch of your body, you reached for the bulge in his boxers you could feel rubbing against you.
He groaned into your mouth as you freed his cock and started slowly pumping it.
"fuck" he breathed, leaning down to reserve some attention for your neck "Today's only about you, darlin'" he murmured to your ear, as he took his dick from your hand "let me take care of my wife like she deserves"
You beamed happily at his words, closing your eyes as you felt him position his tip at your entrance until-
"wait" your eyes widened
"what, sugar?"
"is the door locked?"
Joel grinned "Yeah sweetheart"
"oh" you breathed a sigh of relief "ok"
You learned the hard, and very embarrassing way, the importance of a lock to your bedroom door when having two incredibly nosy children.
You tried to get back to your previous excitement when you heard a faint buzz coming from outside your room.
"Is that...music?"
Joel's head fell to your shoulder in frustration as a soft chuckle fled his throat
"It is" he answered, kissing your neck "I told the girls to put on some music"
You frowned "Why?"
A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips as he leaned up to look at you.
"So that you can make all those pretty sounds you love to make"
Your mouth opened to say something, but all you could do was grin like an idiot.
"You're the perfect man, Joel Miller"
"mh" he considered, kissing the corner of your mouth as he got back to positioning his manhood to your entrance "Only 'cause you're the perfect woman, sweetheart"
And with one slow thrust, he was filling you to the brim, and for once, you could cry out like you always wanted to.
"Jesus Christ" he groaned into your neck "always so tight f'me sugar"
"oh my god" you moaned, as he started to move, finding a slow but, oh so fucking deep pace that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"I love you so much baby" he breathed, as he hit that spongey spot inside of you with each thrust "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but-" he paused to take a breather as your pussy squeezed him so good it was getting hard to breathe "but christ darlin' I'm thankful for you every day"
"J-Joel" you whimpered as your eyes watered and your hands clawed at his back "I love you too, baby" you promised, "I love you so so much" you murmured, nestling your face in his hair as your breathing got more and more ragged, and the mixture of his lips on your skin and his cock deep inside you started to get too much.
The bed was creaking with every thrust, and the sound of his skin meeting with yours was filling the room, but your hearing had become fainter... like you were still dreaming and the only real thing was Joel's broad body hovering over yours, and your impending orgasm
"o-oh god" you cried,
"let go baby" he murmured, sucking on a spot just beneath your ear as he kept pounding you like he wanted to split you in half "Come for me"
And that was it. Your vision went blank and the world went mute for a minute as a wave of pure pleasure took over your entire body.
Joel kept going, trying to last as much as he could for you, but once you let out yet another breathy moan resembling his name, he couldn't do it anymore, and filled you up completely with his cum.
Silence spread as you both tried to learn how to breathe again, but after a good minute, Joel finally reemerged from the crook of your neck to kiss your lips.
"Let me clean you up" he spoke, pulling out of you and walking into the bathroom "I think breakfast is almost ready"
You nodded mindlessly, too fucked out to realize what he'd just said, until, as he reappeared from the bathroom with a wet cloth in his hand, you finally realized.
"Breakfast?"
__ __ __
"Happy birthday mommy!" Your youngest, Eva, came running towards you as soon as you stepped into the kitchen to hug you as tight as she could.
"Happy birthday Mom!" Sarah smiled, joining the hug just a moment after as Joel stumbled into the room to watch the scene unfold.
You bashed in the warmth of their embrace for a moment, before coming back to earth.
"thank you, babies" you murmured, stroking their backs with your thumb as a gigantic smile spread on your face.
"We made breakfast!" Eva announced as they both leaned away.
"You did?"
"We made birthday pancakes" Sarah explained, pointing at a plate stacked with them.
"Like you do!" Eva chirped
And your words got stuck in your throat as you took everything in.
They did all that. Just for you. Your two beautiful daughters.
"I-" you stuttered, as your eyes started to water.
"You did all that on your own?"
"yup!" 
A tear ran down your cheek faster than you could wipe it away.
"mommy, why are you crying?" Eva asked, concerned "daddy, why's mommy crying? Did we do something wrong?"
"N-no baby, you did nothing wrong" you smiled, as other tears fell from your eyes
"I think mommy's crying 'cause she's happy babygirl" Joel explained, coming in to help.
"Oh" her eyes widened "Are you, mom?"
"yes baby" you reassured her, crouching down to their level to be able to hug them again. "You're the most amazing daughters in the whole world, you know that?" you smiled, soaking in their scent "And I love you more than anything"
"go sit down now" you urged, getting back up as they ran to the table, clearly eager to eat their own creation.
But as they did, your eyes couldn't help but focus on the kitchen.
It was a complete mess.
"I'll clean it up, don't worry" Joel spoke, meeting you by your side, and taking your hand in his.
You smiled for what felt like the millionth time this morning.
"thank you" you beamed "for everything"
"It's the least I could do" he shook his head, leaning in to tenderly kiss you 
And as much as you were enjoying the kiss, you couldn't help but laugh as you heard the comments it was eliciting from the audience.
"Ew," Eva groaned, making a disgusted face.
"gross" Sarah agreed.
You and Joel chuckled as you took a step back for both their sakes.
"c'mon, let's go eat," he said "Breakfast's gettin' cold, mama"
~~~~~~
The fic is done this is just a bunch of other shit cause i feel like it, and id like to take a moment to thank my friends for supporting and feeding my delusions
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The birthday wishes a friend sent me
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And what has now become one of my favorite things I've ever been gifted, the Italian literary classic: Il fu Pedro Pascal
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callsigndragon · 1 year
Note
*whispers* I agree with Page, there's no way that Hangman could be celibate for a year 👀 that being said 🤭
I mean, dare him to not have sex for a year, and you're gonna be giving this man a lot of money by the end of said year.
This man is competitive as hell, lol.
He can and he will. That being said... I don't know if Page is gonna make him wait for a year lol
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zebuie · 1 month
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𝓔𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 .. 𝓣𝐢𝐝𝐞
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ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
SYNOPSIS; ellie eats u out on the beach.
WARNINGS; 837 words (interesting..) swearing, semi-public sex??? Idk😭, eating out (r receiving),fingering (r receiving), I think that’s all????
A/N; sorry for disappearing writers block got to me 😭🙏 anyways here’s this very messily written fic..🙁 also this is rlly short 😣
ways to help palestine
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ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ as you jolted awake as u heard a persistent knocking on your door. u rubbed your eyes and squinted at the light shining through the window. What time was it? you were normally a light sleeper and could hear the faint sounds of traffic outside, so this must be an emergency. u fumbled for the lightswitch, blinking in the sudden brightness, and shuffled to the door.
"Who is it?" u called, your voice gravelly with sleep.
"Ellie," came the reply. "I need you to get up right now." u groggily rubbed your eyes and opened the door to see Ellie holding two cups of coffee and a blanket.
"What's wrong?" u asked, still not fully awake.
"Nothing. I just woke up and thought it'd be fun to go to the beach today," Ellie said with a smile.
"Ellie, it's 5am what.." u protested.
"Oh come on, it'll be fun," Ellie said, pulling you along.
u yawned, still half-asleep, and followed Ellie out the door. Ellie had laid out a blanket, picnic basket and a cooler of drinks. The sun was barely rising over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the ocean. Ellie took ur hand and led you to the water. You sat down on the sand, The waves crashed against the shore and seagulls soared overhead.
As u sat beside Ellie, taking in the calming sight of the ocean, her sleepiness started to fade away. You felt Ellie's fingers trace softly over urs and a warm smile tugged at her lips. Without saying anything, Ellie leaned closer to you and your lips brushed lightly against each other. A sudden rush of desire surged through your body as she eagerly kissed back,
Ellie's hands roamed lower down your body, caressing your hips gently before sliding under your shorts. Her fingertips grazed along your wet panties, causing shivers to race down your spine. "Ellie," you sighed breathlessly into the kiss as pleasure spread through your core.
Ellie slowly slid her fingers inside your panties until they found slick folds of flesh waiting for her there. The contact made waves of passion pulse through your veins; a whimper escaped from your mouth as u rocked slightly against Ellie’s hand seeking more friction. you broke apart briefly so that Ellie's fingers dove deeper inside your wet slit,
expertly stroking your swollen clit with her thumb as you moaned loudly into the morning air. Her free hand tangled in ur hair , gently tugging at its roots as they kissed passionately once more.
The mix of Ellie’s mouth on hers and her skilled fingering had uou trembling beneath her touch, nearing her breaking point. "Ellie…" u whimpered against her lips, pleading silently for release."Fuck me… please,"
you growled huskily into the kiss as waves of ecstasy crashed over you like a tsunami. In response, Ellie quickly removed her hand from your panties and pulled them down entirely before diving headfirst between your thighs.
She feasted hungrily on every inch of damp flesh laid bare before her while teasing your ass with a finger or two just for good measure. It wasn't long before she felt those telltale signs that indicated impending bliss: squirming hips, shaking knees and soft groans escaping through parted lips that seemed to hang open.
Ellie's fingers delved deeper into your wet slit, rubbing against your sensitive clit while her thumb grazed across the engorged bundle of nerves. Her lips locked onto yours in a desperate kiss that had you squirming beneath her touch, edging closer and closer to your peak. You whimpered helplessly against her mouth as she sucked greedily at the flesh around it all while fingering you expertly below.
Ellie's fingers worked in perfect harmony against your core, causing sparks to fly throughout your entire body. You groaned loudly into her mouth as you rocked against her hand, craving more of the intense pleasure she was dishing out. She broke the kiss and trailed a path down your neck to nibble playfully on your shoulder blade while keeping up her rhythm. "You're so fucking beautiful like this," she rasped out between breathless sighs before claiming your mouth once again in a passionate kiss.
Ellie shifted her weight so that she could spread your legs wider, giving her better access to your heated core. She licked a long stripe from the base of your clit up towards your wet entrance before repeating the process in reverse. Each stroke sent jolts of pleasure racing through you and you moaned softly against her mouth as she teased every inch of skin within reach.
Her tongue flicked across your sensitive clit, causing you to buck against her hand. "Ellie fuck.." you cried out through gritted teeth, desperately craving more of her attention on that spot. She hummed in response before sucking the bud between her lips while circling it with the tip of her tongue. You gasped and arched your hips closer to her face, completely lost in pleasure as waves of intense sensation washed over you.
.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .
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imaginesmai · 2 months
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Feelings I cannot express - Eris Vanserra
Wow, look at that! Me, avoiding responsabilities and writing another Eris fic for which I have no time! What a surprise! Enjoy this LONG LONG PIECE that has consumed my time lately. Shout-out to @glitterypirateduck who is too in her Eris' era.
Plot: Five times Eris didn’t know how to express his feelings, and one time he did
Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood. Mean Eris when he doesn't know how to express his feelings. Troubled, traumatized boi.
1
His steps were wobbly, and he had already stopped three times to catch his breath. Each time, the ground seemed closer, more tempting. Eris always cared about the impression people had of him, and in his court, he polished it like nowhere.
The strong, cruel prince that matched his father’s temper. Someone who they wouldn’t mess with, someone who would reign one day when Beron was gone. Only the silent corridors were the witness of that other part of him, the real one, that was leaving bloodied prints on the walls.
Beron had raised his hand against his mother, like many other times. He had crossed her beautiful and soft face with a hard slap, just because she dared to share her opinion on a political matter. And Eris had unconsciously let his power flare. Just an ember, a spark in his middle finger.
His father had seen, and had deemed right to remind him where was his position in his court. Lashes had ripped his back into shreds, blood trailing down his arms and legs. He had finished two hours before dawn, but Eris hadn’t been able to move until the night was already started. That way, he made sure no one saw his vulnerable form.
Eris closed the doors of his room as soon as he was inside, and stumbled into his bed. Falling face first, he closed his eyes and willed his conscious to leave him. No one heard his prayers, and he was still wide awake when his door opened again.
He would have been startled, alert or even afraid, but your scent sneaked in before you entered. Eris groaned in acknowledgement, and he knew any warnings or threats were useless against you. You already knew the dangers of your actions, the consequences of being involved with him. And yet, you were always there.
“Can you take off your clothes?” you broke the sinister silence of the room with quiet steps. “I’ll run you a bath”
“Where’s my brother?”
“Asleep” you answered, brushing your soft knuckles against his locks. “Don’t worry about it”
Flynn, the younger Vanserra brother, had tight sleep schedules, so part of his worry faded away. It wouldn’t do him any good if someone found his younger brother’s betrothed in a light sleeping gown.
Eris heard you filling the bath with water, and tried not to let the guilt worry. The first time you had helped him, he had threatened to burn you alive, and gone as far as give you a nasty burn scar on your left forearm. You hadn’t left, and he hadn’t thanked you. While you two ignored each other in the court ministrations, it was your secret routine – you, a stranger promised to a monster, helping him among his dearest family and friends.
Not once in his life he had let someone so close to his torment, to his vulnerability – to his body. People assumed he had tons of lovers, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of someone touching him. With you, he had discovered in the last years, it was different.
Your hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality, and he finally looked at you. There were dark bags under your eyes, a determinated look fixed on him.
“It’s ready” you tilted your head slightly. “Can you get up on your own?”
“Of course. Get away” he scoffed, but didn’t argue when you stabilized him by his elbow when he rose. “I don’t need your help. You’re more a liability than a support”
“I know you can do it, Eris” you didn’t even blink at his mean words, nor reacted when he tried to push you away. “Maybe we should take your tunic off before – “
“Get off me!”
Eris didn’t measure his strength when he pushed you off, just desperate to shake the feeling of kind hands that he didn’t deserve. That would never be his.
You stumbled back and got your feet tangled between the carpet, which caused you to fall on your butt. He physically flinched when your hands broke your fall, when he saw you suck a breath in pain. But he wouldn’t apologize, he never did. If being the worst person alive meant you would live, if hurting you meant no one would do it, then he could carry the guilt and self-hate just fine.
From the ground, he felt your eyes on him as he striped his clothes. They fell to the ground, his tunic nothing but ripped shreds of cloth. His vest wasn’t much better, or his shirt. Only his pants had been saved from the bloodbath. Eris made a point by not looking at you while he undressed, leaving his briefs on.
He didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that the way your body tensed from the corner of his eye wasn’t an exaggeration. Every fiber of his body screamed at him when he walked towards the bathroom, when he heard you get up in a rush and follow him.
The fact that you didn’t demand an apology or got angry at him rubbed all the wrong spots.
“Let me warm the water”
“I can do it myself, little fox”
Still, your hand sneaked and you dipped it into the water, and within seconds steam started to fill the bathroom. Eris stared at that particular spot between your shoulder and neck, where he wished he could thank you with a soft kiss. Wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into the bath with him. Be the person you would lay with that night.
“Do you want me to help you in?”
“What I want you to do is to leave” he answered as the temperature of the room rose. “I want you to lay with your future husband and forget about me”
“I can’t do that, Eris” you casted him a glance. “I can help you in though”
His anger rose back up and he didn’t say anything when you straightened back up. Your fire magic was only a spark of his own, only useful for warming water or lighting a chimney. That you had to use yours because he was too spent was a disgrace upon himself.
Eris made a point to leave his back to you inside the tub, letting the warm water wash the blood away. He pushed his head between his arms and ignored your presence. Ignored your warm hands as they brushed the wounds so they wouldn’t get infected. Ignored your quiet movements as you left healing and numbing creams on the counter. Tried to ignore you when you massaged his shoulders and scalp, cleaning his hair like his mother used to do.
Eventually, you decided to leave him alone in his rooms. After helping him get up from the bathtub and into the bed. Tucking him in like a stubborn child, turning off the candles. Only when your hand brushed his hair one last time, he noticed the new addition to your beautiful wrist.
He gripped it before you could hide it, and for the first time in the whole night, you flinched. Not because his touch was rough, since he held it like expensive glass. Not because you were afraid, because with him, you never were.
“This is new” he whispered in the dark room, staring at the bruises along your delicate skin. “What happened?”
“He just got a little handsy. Flynn…” you doubted before you sighed, sitting on his bed. “Your father has been pushing him more and more about the weeding. He left this morning with him to hunt in the forest, so I can only guess they talked about it. So he got drunk. And I was late for dinner, because he hadn’t informed me it would be early tonight”
“Anywhere else?” he asked, and eyed you with enough intensity to warn you against lying.
“I’m fine”
You had been raised for that, Eris guessed, and that was normal for you. Being sold to the best buyer for your hand, endure a shitty betrothed until you were to marry and he could ignore you properly. Eris didn’t dare to think about how things would be if your position allowed him to marry you. If his father saw you worthy of his first-born.
But you were stuck with Flynn Vanserra, a man uncapable of love and caring. A man who did worse things than a bruised wrist.
“Be careful” he allowed himself to say, just because it was dark, and you couldn’t see the real concern and fear of someone finding out about your behavior in his room. “Don’t let anyone see you leave my rooms. And don’t come back. I don’t need you”
“Good night, Eris” you rose from bed, and Eris missed the warmth of your wrist against his fingers. “Don’t forget the creams”
With silent steps, you left his room, and Eris spent the night awake wondering of you could see right past his lies, past his fake cruelty and indifference towards you. If you could see how much he cared about his brother’s betrothed.
2
It wasn’t too often that the palace opened its door for lesser fae. On special occasions, his father allowed them to attend to the main hall and see what they were missing because of their condition. Beron took out the elegant clothes, the expensive wine and bright plates. And then, he didn’t let them use any of that and had them watch from the corner the superiority of his family.
Eris didn’t particularly care about those events, but he had been forced to attend to that one – since it was his own birthday. He didn’t celebrate his birthday, he didn’t get presents. Not when years of monotony rolled by and nothing changed. His mother had been the only one wishing him happy birthday that morning, kissing the side of his head quickly and reminding him to be nice.
To stand by and endure his father’s show of power at his expense. All his brothers were there too, and not too far from Flynn, you too.
You were wearing an orange dress that emulated autumns leaves. Each time you moved, lights reflected yellow and brown sparks that had the lesser fae turning their heads around. Eris too couldn’t keep his eyes away from your form for too long, with the risk of being caught.
Flynn seemed to be least affected by your looks, or your presence. While you were required to stay by his side and be faithful, he dragged you through countless humiliation. Talking and flirting with other women when you were standing a few feet away, ignoring your attempts to start conversations, leaving you while you greeted a friend.
Eri’s nails were imprinted on his palms from how hard he closed his fists each time it happened. He had almost set fire to a curtain when he had been close enough to watch your crestfallen expression.
To avoid anyone noticing him staring at you like a hawk or turning his brother into ashes, he busied himself with pointless talks and stupid politics. He endured it for three long hours, and then he granted himself a rest excusing himself for the bathroom.
He knew you had been following him since he left the ballroom, but didn’t acknowledge you until you were far from the crowd. Eris walked through the hallways and across the backyard, and stopped only when he reached the stables. Then, he turned around and his heart skipped a beat at your sight.
Your beautiful hair had been let down, and you were wearing a crown of golden leaves. Everything in your attire claimed you were their possession, but you weren’t his to look at, to enjoy. So he raised a brow and waited for you to talk.
“You’re hard to catch” you started. “Someone might think you’re running away from me”
“Maybe I’m running away from your annoying presence”
You scoffed and he hated and loved that you didn’t seem affected by his words. There was no truth behind it, just the urge of hearing your voice in your reply.
“I want to wish you happy birthday” you confessed, and even your voice was sweeter that night. “Haven’t seen you in all day”
“I’ve been busy” he lied.
Shamefully, he had waited for your visit for hours. Last year you had been the first one to wish him happy birthday, and he had remembered for the whole year the feeling of your lips against his cheek. It had been a friendly kiss, although it had been the only time he had seen you blush. And during the hard days, he held onto that memory like a lifesaver.
You hummed and tucked your hands in front of you. Eris tried not to notice the silver ring that claimed you as his brother’s possession, the distinction from other women. You never wore it, but you had to in events like that one.
In the silence that followed his lie, Eris’ whole body relaxed. His shoulders dropped, his fist untightened and his jaw unclenched. His nostrils flared slightly as he took in your scent, and finally, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Happy birthday, Eris” you finally said, and smiled brightly at him. “Do you want to open your present?”
“Present?” he blinked surprised, the question catching him off guard. “You got me a present?”
“Birthdays are supposed to be filled with presents. Extravagant parties are good too, but I think everyone should get a present” you explained. “I tried to keep yours in an envelope, but someone found it before you. And I couldn’t help it. Do you want to see it?”
Eris nodded dumbly. You could offer him a crumb of your lunch and he would gladly treasure it for the rest of his life. Just like he was doing with all your moments together, before you were cruelly snagged into his brother’s arms eventually.
He followed you through the stables, wondering what you could give him. He didn’t remember the last time someone got him a present, a pleasant one. Anything you could give him would be perfect, so he wasn’t worried about liking it or not. He was worried about cracking down and smudging that beautiful lipstick with his own lips.
Like second nature, you walked him towards the pit where he kept his hounds locked. They slept together and were Eris pride and joy, the first and only gift he got from his father. As you unlocked the door, Eris stuffed his hands in his pocket awkwardly. Then, he looked inside.
And broke into a loud, deep chuckle that rattled his bones.
Eris laughed and laughed until he took his hands out of his pockets and had to press them into his stomach, bending over. When he opened his eyes and tried to regain his posture, he lost it over and over again.
“I take it you like it” you chuckled with him.
He missed the way your eyes shone at his laugh, the way you bounced off your feet at his happiness. It had been the only real smile on your lips that night, and it rivaled any of the elegant lamps in the ballroom.
His hounds, the terrifying big dogs that haunted prisoners when they got out of his dungeons and tracked down traitors, had each one fox knitted hats. Who had ripped fae apart with their sharp teeth and devoured limbs like butter. They all stared at you with oblivious calm and a fox hat.
“They look – they look so ridiculous” Eris managed to say between laughs, and pointed at Maximus, who had its head titled and one of the ears had bent down. “And so happy! How did you put them on? This is the best present I could ask for”
“Oh, they didn’t put much of a fight when I sneaked some treats” you shrugged, and Eris broke into another laugh. “Besides, they like me too much not to let me do it”
“You’re a devious creature, little fox” he scoffed, and finally looked at you. “You are – “
Whatever he was about to say died when he caught the glimpse of the moon light hitting your ring. The ring that reminded him that you may have given him a birthday present, but everything else belonged to Flynn. He caught the words he was about to say and stuffed them down his chest. He forced himself to look away from your expectant expression, and swallow the guilt.
You would never be happy with him, but neither would you be with Flynn. Your fate in that court was sealed, yet you would keep your life with the youngest Vanserra.
“Thank you for the present, Y/N” he managed to say, not daring to look back at his hounds.
“You’re welcome, Eris” you copied his formal, clipped tone in a mocking way, noticing the change of the atmosphere but not caring about it. “Maybe next time I could knit you one for yourself”
“I’m afraid I look nothing like a fox. More like a snake perhaps”
“And I’m afraid you’re too hard on yourself, but we aren’t considering our deliriums”
Eris opened his mouth to argue, but he felt them coming before you did. A couple, probably drunk and lesser fae, had snuck into the gardens. And they probably wouldn’t recognize you, wouldn’t report to his father about your reunion. But Eris couldn’t risk your safety, not when you were the only thing that made him be glad of being alive for another year.
He caught your arm in a tight grip and your eyes widened before listening to their steps. You didn’t have to look to know the couple was staring. In your eyes, Eris could see his own fear of having those short and meaningless meetings cut short because of a snitch. He hated that you weren’t afraid of his tight grip or the fire in his eyes, but because of the retaliations if you were discovered.
One of his hounds poked a lazy head to see what the silence was about, but saw no threat and turned away. And to ensure it wouldn’t turn into a threat, Eris put on his heir-mask, the hatred and cruel prince everyone expected him to be, and snarled with fire under his tongue the venom he knew you didn’t believe.
“And if I ever see you snooping again, I’ll have your head on a pike in your weeding chambers. Tell my dear brother to shorten the leash of his belongings” he pressed on. He caught on the couple’s sniff of fear and respect, but also your own hurt. Hurt at the words he was blading for your protection, he told himself, that were necessary. “Leave before I change my mind”
With a final hard push, he threw you a few feet away from him. You looked down and scrambled away from him, and the couple left too. Eris was left alone with his foxed-hounds, and the horrid realization that hurting you was the only way of keeping you safe.
3
Eris paced the length of your room for what felt like forever. He had already noticed every detail you kept in your room that made it so you, had fought with the inadequate feeling of invading your personal space. He had had time enough to consider if he was going insane and paranoid, but it was late and you weren’t there.
You always retreated to your rooms early in the night. Sometimes, he knew because he accompanied you when his brother was too drunk to remember your presence. Other times, he knew because you sneaked into his dorms right before night set. You were supposed to be there with him, teasing him for not being able to look away from the lingerie that lay forgotten in your armchair.
But you weren’t, and Eris was pacing.
That morning, as you all had lunch as a family, his mother had asked an inadequate but innocent answer. It was only logical that after almost five years of courting you started talking about the actual weeding, but you weren’t. Because his brother was too much of a dick to entertain it until he had enjoyed his youth to the fullest, and because you sneaked glances at him when no one was looking.
You had given her a simple answer – love matters took time, and better be safe than sorry. While everyone agreed quietly, Eris had noticed the way Flynn’s face darkened. As if the idea of you answering a question directed to both of you was inadequate.
Eris had left the dining room with an uneasy feeling, and had kept it in his stomach all day. When you hadn’t appeared during dinner time nor had his brother, he had decided to search for you.
You weren’t in the stables, where you spent most of your time between horses and his hounds. You weren’t in the kitchen, where you snuck off when Flynn got too much to handle. And you weren’t anywhere he looked, so he had decided to let the worry get the best out of him and wait for you in your rooms.
As if the thought of you had summoned you, the doors opened and Eris turned around in a frenzy.
“Thank the cauldron” he scoffed, already replacing the worry with anger. “Where the fuck have you been all day? Do I really have to wait here if I want to…”
“I’m sorry” you apologized, your voice void of any fire or charm.
He tried to make himself argue with you further, to explain his presence in your room with a stupid excuse and not let you know he had been worried. There was no blood or visible wounds on you, not new bruises or burns he can explain his sudden lack of words with.
But he could see something there, that made his blood boil and his heart beat furiously against his chest. You walked past him in silence and removed your heels next to your wardrobe. Without saying anything or acknowledging his presence, you peeled the eiderdown off and climbed inside the bed.
Only then he watched your shoulders tight as you tried to keep the cries to yourself. Eris walked on autopilot to the edge of your bed, and watched in silent horror as tears fell down your face. You were squeezing your eyes shut, probably wanting to be left alone, but he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed. Just like you had done so many times.
It was so different from what he knew, what you did with him, that he didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly, he caressed your shoulder and you whined, your body turning around so you could face him.
“What happened?” he asked, his hand trembling with the effort of staying on your shoulder and not brushing the tears away.
“He locked me in a basement, because he said he was tired of seeing me everywhere and hearing me all the time” you admitted, curling your body around his. “There was no light. And I was fine, but he didn’t come back and I called. And no one answered and – “
Your explanation died with the first sob, and many followed. Eris knew what basement you were talking about. His father had locked him and his brothers many times in the past. Big enough to allow a standing person, but not to let them sit. Tight enough so a part of your body was always touching the wall, and dark enough to rob your breath.
Eris willed the words stuck on his throat to leave him. He wanted to lay down beside you and comfort you like he should. He wanted to break every last of his brother’s bones, and then some more.
“I was so scared” you admitted quietly, finally opening your eyes to look at him. “I thought – I thought I’d been forgotten”
“How did you get out?”
“Beron heard me”
He didn’t need to ask for further details, just tried to keep eye contact as your beautiful eyes were constantly drowning in tears and sorrow. His father was as cruel as Flynn, but until you were officially married, he still had to ensure your safety for your family’s sake.
You cried against his side and eventually your body gravitated to his lap. His free hand carefully brushed yours, and you held it so tight and hard that Eris choked his own cry. How many times he had felt alone in his own home? Forgotten in that same basement while Beron went hunting, or partying?
The thought of you locked in those four walls turned his stomach up. You, with your easy smile and your kind words. Full of kindness and love that no one in that court deserved, certainly not him.
Still, Eris held his ground sitting on your bed. He lighted some candles and sealed the room with a glamour against sound and strangers. The rational part of his brain told him to leave before someone came looking for him, the irrational part to do worse things. But he stayed on your bed, stroking his thumb across the back of your hand and brushing his fingers against the nape of your neck.
As you cried, Eris begged himself to do something with the words that resonated in his heart.
“You’re not forgotten, I could never forget you. I won’t”
“He could try and hide you in the last corner of the universe and I would still crawl my way to you, my little fox”
His mouth was kept shut and his fingers continued his ministration, until your breath slowed and your sobs disappeared. Then, when you were about to fall asleep with his hand in yours, you opened your eyes one last time and gave him a small smile. Maybe he hadn’t said anything, but he was starting to suspect you could read his mind and heart.
“I’m glad you came for me” you confessed quietly. “Thank you”
He should have said that he didn’t accept your gratefulness, that he wasn’t worthy of them. Instead, he smiled back and stared at you while you fell asleep. With his heart roaring just a big wilder.
4
His court was under attack.
Eris had come to that realization a month ago, when a missive from Hybern had reached their borders with a threat of dead and destruction. In that moment, he had thought it had been a minor attack. A political attack, a threat with little importance in a world where everybody hated his court.
But then, his father had dismissed the king demands and patrols started to go missing. Parts of those patrols came back, traumatized soldiers that died in a few days but that had enough time to scream horrors. More soldiers were sent into the forest, and more soldiers died.
For a month, Hybern had debilitated them in their own home until most of the army was unavailable. And now, his home was under attack.
The top part of the palace was on fire, people ran desperately through the corridors and soldiers from both sides fought in the backyard. Eris was sure Beron would be able to win that battle, maybe the war. Yet what worried him was that Beron didn’t particularly care about causalities, and there were many that had Eris’ heart in a knot.
He had managed to take his mother to safety, to a hidden room where women and children waited. He expected to see you there too, but instead, had found a hiding Flynn that didn’t answer his questions.
Eris had left his brother in the middle of a hallway with a shutten eye and two broken legs that wouldn’t let him get away from the soldiers. He hoped he would get killed so Eris wouldn’t be the one to carry the task.
As he ran through the castle against the waves of running people, the fire on his veins roared louder. What would he do, if he came upon the worst scenario? Would he crash his home down? It had been eight months since his birthday, and he had come to the realization he feared the most. That those times he seemed to spot you among a crowd, when his soul sang for you, where for a reason.
He hadn’t found the courage to tell you yet about the golden string he tugged at sometimes, hoping you would turn around and confirm his suspicions.
If he lost his mate today because of his brother’s cowardice, because of a war his father had started out of greed, Eris wasn’t sure the world would be a safe place for anyone anymore.
Asking the running members of his court would be useless, as it would be worrying about them seeing his panic-stricken expression. Eris focused on running and following his instinct, until it led him to the stables. The place where you had shared so many memories that was now a bloodbath.
Soldiers were lying on the ground, dead and unconscious, some of them begging for his help as he stepped over their bodies. The heart of the battle was close enough he could hear and smell death looming, but all of that died down when he finally saw you.
“Eris!” you cried out his name, and what was left of his heart clenched at the broken sound. “Eris I –“
Your cries were muffled by a rough hand over your mouth, of a soldier that hadn’t seen him yet. You were being dragged towards a carriage, your limbs flying around as you tried to get free from the enemies’ grip. Eris would have time to thank fate for allowing him to reach you on time, before you were taken away from him permanently.
Fire licked the carriage’s front, not letting their occupancies leave untouched. It consumed the vehicle in a matter of seconds, burning so powerful and tight that Eris felt light headed for a second. His power felt like a bottomless pit where he could dive without consequences, so he did just that.
Unleashing his short swords, he used both hands to clean his path towards you. The soldiers realized shortly after that their scape root was compromised, but too late that who had compromised it was the crown’s heir.
They didn’t stand a chance against his rage, his power. They fell to the ground like flies while all Eris saw was red. Red seeping through your wounds into the ground, staining your dress. Red pooling the earth beneath his feet as every last soldier fell to their death. Red of his power, that consumed every threat against his mate.
Once he was done, he crashed to his knees in front of you, and the fire died all together when your arms locked around his neck. He didn’t contemplate what it would look like when he pushed you farther into his embrace, listening to your heartbeat like a lullaby.
“You shouldn’t be outside” Eris whispered against your hair, the remains of his anger seeping through them. “If you were smart, you would have stayed inside. Dumb woman. What were you thinking?”
“I wanted to find you”
Your admission didn’t catch him off guard. You sounded so sincere, so relieved, that he only got angrier. Why was fate so cruel to bond him with such a kind soul? Of course, of every reason you could have gone outside, you would have chosen him.
“I didn’t know if you were okay” you continued, lifting your face from his chest to look at him. “What if you had been hurt?”
“And what would you do, hm?” Eris almost cut you off, suddenly repulsed by your touch.
That he had let you get so close to put yourself in danger was a mistake. It had been a mistake the first time he looked at you long enough to discover how bright your smile was. A mistake each time he had allowed you in his room to tend his wounds, every conversation you two had in secret.
There was no answer to his questions, and you knew it. Eris got up and didn’t offer you a hand, instead turning his face away from you. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to ignore the endless thoughts about what could have happen. The things he should have done better, because none of that mattered now.
Eris tried to ignore you when you finally got up and grabbed his hand. Your hand caressed his fingers, his hands, his arms. You caressed his skin as if he hadn’t just slaughtered ten strong, healthy soldiers with families.
“I somehow do irrational things when it comes to you” you spoke quietly, wrapping your hands around his elbow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in trouble. But the thought of you being hurt… I’m sorry”
“Let’s get you to safety” he grumbled, not acknowledging your apology.
He imagined what it would feel like to have you hanging from his arm in different circumstances, maybe in another world. Briefly, he indulged himself and slowed his steps so he could soak into it. There were bodies and blood, sounds of battle and death cries, but none of them seemed to matter as you walked down the hallways to the hidden room.
The battle was already dying down, but it wouldn’t be safe until nighttime. Eris would make sure every last enemy was death before letting you set a foot outside the safe room. He vowed himself to distance himself enough to never repeat that moment, and to protect you with whatever it took him. Indifference, cruelty. Whatever put you to safety.
What he couldn’t control was a last moment of vulnerability. He stopped right before the discrete doors where his mother and the rest of women and children waited. Turning to face you, his heart got the best of him and raised his arm without his consent.
“Be safe” you begged him. “Please. I don’t want to lose you”
“I will, little fox”
Eris tucked a strand of your hair, sticky with blood behind your ear. He watched like a hawk the cherry blush that painted your cheeks, the contained smile that you hid horribly. Instead of retreating, he let curious fingers explore the curve of your cheekbone. Your jawline, your chin. The curve of your nose and your lips.
His traitor fingers stopped at your bottom lip, tugging it down. It should have bothered him that those lips were meant for his brother, that they had already tasted him when his brother had gotten too handsy. But it didn’t, because they looked so kissable that he thought he had imagined it when you leaned forward.
When your eyes fluttered closed and his body gravitated too, he thought he imagined. The distance became shorter and everything became white noise. Eris had dreamed so long about it that he thought he was dreaming.
But not even his dreams were so livid, so real. He blinked one last time before crashing into your lips with a straining force. You tasted like blood from your open lip, and like clouds and sky and perfection. There were teeth and tongue and he couldn’t control himself more than the kiss.
Shockingly, he was the one pushed against the opposite door, your much smaller body trapping him as you grabbed him by the shoulders. He stole every breath and whine that left your mouth with kissing. For those few seconds, he let himself explore each inch of your mouth like it was the last minute of his life.
It might had been, if someone saw you with him and told Beron. His father thought had him pushing you away, so hard you stumbled down.
“Get inside” Eris demanded you, gripping your elbow harshly. You blinked with those swollen lips and rosy cheeks, and he clenched his jaw.
“Eris…”
“Don’t come out, not until I come back. Be fucking smart for once in your life” he opened the door and dozens of women stared at you two.
Something in his chest stilled when your eyes widened and that bond became alive. When he was certain that you felt the same tug he had been feeling for a long time, that he had lost sleep over. It dawned to him that nothing would be the same after that day, whether the attack finished or not. Whether his father found out or those women kept silent.
So, for the first time in his life, Eris let himself accept those hidden feelings and kissed you one last time. Slow, deep, in front of his mother who covered her mouth with a surprised gasp. He dragged his lips between yours, only for a second.
When he tore away, Eris was sure he would die happy if that face was the last thing he saw.
“Don’t leave the room until I come back, my little fox. Only me”
Eris didn’t let you answer. He turned around and closed the doors behind him, running down the hallways. Looking for the enemy, for his brother whose betrothed had just kissed, for his father who could kill you both. And away from where his heart was safe with you.
5
Not even a week of mourning was stablished for the deaths at the Hybern attack. Not even a week for the thousands of soldiers who had died defending his home.
Eris had made sure that every family got their loved ones’ bodies back, and that there was enough wood to light up fires for them. He mourned more for them than for his own family, who had suffered an immense hit.
Flynn Vanserra had been found ravished in a forgotten hallway, his body mangled beyond recognition. People whispered that he had found an end according to his life – cruel, mean, without mercy. Eris stared at his brother’s corpse and curled his lip, because before his death, not a scar marked his body. While he had usen yours like a blank canvas.
Beron Vanserra had died too, and that had rattled Eris’ world.
His father had been the main objective, and after he had fallen from the upper tower, the enemy had retreated. Beron was dead before he hit the ground, courtesy of a dozen poisoned arrows on his chest. Eris had watched his body burn in silence contemplation, thinking about how many times his father had raised his fire against him.
Now, it was Eris who light up his father’s tomb fire.
Days brushed quickly but there was one thing that had him grounded – you. Eris Vanserra was officially a High Lord, so no one argued when you appeared by his arm on Beron’s funeral. When you moved your things to the room besides him.
His people whispered about the caring brother who had taken upon the charge of his betrothed so she wouldn’t be discarded. And about the cruel king who had killed his own brother to wed a nameless girl. Eris didn’t acknowledge any of those comments.
He just kept you close as loyalties were stablished, letting everyone know that you were off limits. For touching, for hurting, for insulting. One noble was brave enough to question your place in the palace with Flynn death, and one noble lost his tongue the next morning.
As everything settled down, Eris found himself taking walks with you through the forest, something his brother had never bothered to do. You hung from his arm gracefully, new and expensive dresses on your wardrobe, and a radiant smile on your face.
“Will you teach me how to ride?” you asked him one sunny afternoon. “So I can ride hunting with you”
“I will get you your own horse if that’s what my mate wants” he let the title sweeten his mouth, warm his heart. “I will get you whatever your heart desire, my little fox”
“Maybe I’ll turn into a spoiled princess then. And you will find your ruin at my expensive demands” you chuckled, shifting closer to him.
You could ask him for a court and he would fight to death with anyone to grant you your own court. You could ask him for his court and he would get on his knees and offer it to you without another word. Those words were meaningless, because you rarely asked him for anything. Even when you had changed rooms, you had been happy with just a bed and a blanket.
“I’m happy with being here, close to you. I don’t need anything else”
The more time he spent with you, the more he marveled at your selflessness. You had been helping those with injuries from the fight, talking with the families who were grieving. By nighttime, you returned to your chambers where Eris was waiting for you, having abandoned his own for yours. You two laid in bed looking at each other until you fell asleep.
Then, Eris spent hours staring at you, letting his heart soak into the comfort.
“You are quiet today” you commented, breaking him from his thoughts. “Court problems?”
Eris always had court problems. The change was coming slowly but surely, and his father’s loyal friends weren’t happy with that. But it wasn’t their enmity that had him deep in thought. The last rays of sun warmed your face as he looked at you with a small smile.
Talking about his feelings was his weakness. He had been mean, cruel and downright villainous to you for years because he couldn’t open his heart to you. He couldn’t endure the thought of you hurting because of his stupid feelings.
But he wanted things to change. He wanted you to be happy and safe, and if he had to share his thoughts and swallow his insecurities, he would.
“I was wondering” he admitted eventually, a little unsure. “We are mate. But… do you think, we would have found each other? If we weren’t?”
You looked surprised at his questions. You hadn’t talked about the bond, just accepted it. When Eris had found you after the battle, you had hugged him tight and kissed him once more. You hadn’t talked about it, and yet, you both were comfortable with it.
After the initial surprise, you gifted him a soft smile, and your eyes crinkled against the sun.
“I would have found you either way, Eris. You had me since I set a foot in this court” you answered him. “I used to worry that there was something wrong with me, because I couldn’t feel anything for Flynn. Not love, not hate. Nothing. Whatever he did was fine because it was the price I paid to stay close to you. And it was worthy”
“Don’t say that, Y/N”
“I can’t, that’s what I feel. And I’m not afraid to tell you that I’ve loved you for a long time, my darling. Long before I knew we were mates and through all we’ve been through. I’m sure I would have loved you even if we weren’t mates”
Eris wondered if he would ever be able to speak so freely about his thoughts. He couldn’t still voice out what he felt for you. How he would turn the world around if you asked him to, how your love was enough to keep him alive forever. For now, though, Eris smiled and leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your nose, earning a soft giggle.
He would tell you all of that someday, show you his feelings when his words were stuck. Eris Vanserra owned you that much.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
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edenesth · 2 months
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The Way to His Heart [17]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Warning: eMoTiOnAl DaMaGe
Part 16 | Fic Masterlist | Part 18
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How dare he—
Jongho gritted his teeth, his fists tightening at the despicable tactics the fourth prince employed to disrupt your relationship with the general. Usually composed, the assistant struggled to contain his rising anger, feeling an overwhelming urge to resort to violence.
Meanwhile, all Eunsook cared about was your well-being. She empathised with your past, knowing all too well the horrors you endured in your old home. The idea of being married to someone potentially more ruthless than your previous abusers must have been terrifying. Despite understanding the reasons behind her master's actions, she acknowledged his moral ambiguity.
Her only wish was for you to accept that he would never hurt you.
Despite the whirlwind of emotions stirred by the revelation that Seonghwa might have been involved in more than just supervising your father's punishments, your expression remained unreadable. Yeosang held his breath, watching you intently, half-expecting a reaction of terror or betrayal. Whether it was shock, anger, or disbelief, he anticipated something negative.
Desperation clawed at the prince's heart as he clung to his last resort, willing it to work. Foolish as it might seem, the truth was he had no prior experience in wooing anyone, let alone a married woman committed to another. He fumbled in the dark, unsure of the right ways to win your heart, driven only by the conviction that he could be a better husband than General Park.
In his mind, he painted a picture of himself as the ideal partner for you, one who would treat you with the care and affection he believed you deserved. He saw himself as the only one who could truly understand the pain etched into your body, just as you might understand his. And so, he resolved to pursue you relentlessly, even if it meant resorting to drastic measures that could potentially cause you further trauma.
For the fourth prince, the ends justified the means. If it meant having you by his side, it would all be worth it. He vowed to spend the rest of his days showering you with nothing but love and kindness to make up for what he put you through today.
It's time you come to me now, darling.
However, he was in for a rude awakening if he believed you would run into his arms seeking comfort after learning the terrifying truth about the monster your husband turned out to be.
Instead, after a moment of collecting yourself, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, a newfound intensity burning within your gaze, "I'm sorry if this offends you, Your Highness, but what exactly do you hope to achieve by showing and telling me all of this? My husband acted as he did because those people deserved it. As for my father, if you could even call him that, he abused me all my life and killed my mother; he deserved whatever my husband gave him and more."
Though the revelations about the general's potential actions during those extra hours unsettled you, your anger shifted towards Yeosang for bringing them to light in such a manner. Clenching your fists to conceal your trembling hands, you remained resolute. Even if you didn't condone Seonghwa's actions, he was still your husband, and your love for him remained unchanged.
As you stood there, the annoyance toward the fourth prince simmered within you, each word he uttered adding fuel to the fire. From the very beginning, he had refused to acknowledge your new title as Lady Park, a small but significant act of disrespect. Then, he persisted in bringing up topics from your past, despite your obvious discomfort and desire to move on. Now, his deliberate attempts to tarnish the general's image felt almost like a personal attack.
The sarcasm laced in his words when speaking of your husband grated on your nerves. Seonghwa had sacrificed so much for the country, and the least he deserved was respect. It dawned on you now what San had meant about Yeosang's difficult nature. You finally understood why the prince's behaviour could be infuriating.
Jongho and Eunsook exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from concern to awe as they watched you stand your ground against the fourth prince's attempts to undermine your husband. At that moment, it became clear to them that perhaps their worries had been for nothing all along. They should have had more faith in your unwavering love and loyalty to their master.
Yeosang's confidence faltered as he observed your stern expression and heard the firmness in your voice. This was not the reaction he had anticipated from you. Perhaps he had underestimated the depth of your love and loyalty to General Park.
Could the Queen have been right all along?
Feeling a sense of urgency and realising he had no other viable option, His Highness took a deep breath and decided to come clean about his intentions once and for all. He couldn't risk angering you any further than he already had. It was time to be honest, even if it meant facing the consequences of his actions.
The smugness that had once characterised his demeanour now vanished, replaced by a palpable sense of shame as he lowered his head slightly, "I... gosh, I am sorry, my lady. I acknowledge that it was wrong of me to manipulate the situation like that. I'll be honest with you. There was no actual banquet planned. In truth, I haven't celebrated my birthday in years. It only serves as a painful reminder of my existence."
Your brows furrowed in apprehension as you listened, allowing him to continue with his explanation, "I take it you're wondering why I despise my own existence. You're likely unaware of my reputation, unlike others. You may have noticed the birthmark here," he gestured to the red mark on the side of his face, prompting a nod from you.
He offered a faint smile, "Throughout my life, I've been treated like a freak because of this mark. As a member of the royal family, I'm sure you're aware there's an expectation of flawless appearance. So, imagine the shock when they saw the fourth prince with such a conspicuous blemish, my parents included. Both within and beyond the palace walls, people have whispered about my birth, deeming it a curse, questioning if I should have even been born at all."
"Since reaching adulthood, I've rejected numerous marriage proposals. Every woman presented to me has regarded me with disdain in their eyes. But then I met you, my lady, that day in the cherry blossom garden. You were the first person to wear your own mark proudly, without a trace of revulsion. It was as if you saw beyond my appearance. I suppose you could say it was love at first sight for me. I'm in love with you, Miss Jang, and that's why I've brought you here today—to propose to you."
Everything suddenly fell into place.
The puzzle pieces of his behaviour over the past days and weeks finally clicked together, forming a clear picture. Empathy flooded your heart as you realised the depth of his struggles. You knew all too well what it felt like to be singled out, treated like an outsider even by those closest to you, and shown no respect despite your status.
However, you felt a pang of shock upon learning about his feelings for you and his pursuit. It was unexpected, to say the least. You hadn't imagined that he harboured such emotions, especially considering the complexities of your respective situations.
Observing your softened demeanour while listening to the prince's confession, Jongho and Eunsook felt a resurgence of worry. They understood Yeosang's struggles and empathised with his difficult life. Despite that, they couldn't ignore the fact that you were a married woman. Regardless of what His Highness may have gone through, pursuing someone who was already committed was inherently wrong.
The two of them exchanged a concerned glance, silently acknowledging the complexity of the situation. While they sympathised with the prince, they couldn't condone his actions, especially his attempt to come between you and your husband using such underhanded tactics.
Your chaperones would soon find reassurance in your response after a moment of contemplative silence. With a deep inhale, you attempted to offer Yeosang a smile, despite the earlier anger you felt towards him, "Look, Your Highness, I understand the hardships you've endured, and probably continue to endure. I genuinely empathise with you. I'm also truly grateful to have met you. I've never had any friends before, so meeting someone who shares similar interests means a lot to me."
His Highness grinned sadly, "Ah yes, I'm sensing a 'but' there."
With a light chuckle, you nodded, "But it's precisely because I see you as a friend and care about you that I want you to understand that whatever you think you might feel for me isn't love."
He stared at you with wide eyes, but you halted him before he could protest, "Perhaps you've mistaken the feelings of gratitude and joy from finally meeting someone who treats you sincerely for love," You gently explained, "My prince, love doesn't simply happen at first sight like that. It requires much more than that; two people must go through so much together before they truly understand their feelings. I've been through it myself, and I can assure you that what you're feeling is definitely not love."
"Lastly, please address me as Lady Park. I haven't gone by Miss Jang for a while now. While we can remain friends, I must insist that you respect my marriage and abandon any plans you may have. My heart belongs solely to the general, and that won't change."
You sighed at the pleading look in the prince's eyes, understanding that convincing him wouldn't be easy. But you had said your piece, and the rest was up to him to realise. Feeling the onset of a headache from everything, you bowed one final time, saying, "If there's to be no banquet as you've mentioned, we'll be taking our leave then. Thank you for having us today, Your Highness. I wish you happiness."
I'm almost there, my love.
Nearly two days had passed when Seonghwa finally arrived back in the city and approached his own estate. The journey had been one of the most challenging he had ever undertaken. He cursed his injury for slowing him down, as he had to make several stops to rest and change his bandages, mimicking the actions of the medical team soldiers who had tended to him. Despite his urgency to leave camp, he had taken care to pack enough supplies to last the trip back.
Regardless of the constant yearning to be with you again, he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving his army behind abruptly due to such personal matters. If his soldiers knew about his absence, some might consider him irresponsible for his actions.
Shaking his head, he recalled how he used to criticise some of his men distracted by thoughts of their loved ones during battles, viewing them as foolish for letting such distractions affect them. If someone had told him he would act similarly in the future, he wouldn't have believed them for a moment.
The things you do to me, my wife.
The mere thought of seeing and being near you again made his heart flutter. He admitted to himself that he had become one of those fools he once criticised, but he wouldn't change a thing. Experiencing love had shifted his perspective entirely, compelling him to do whatever it took to keep you by his side forever. Having saved you from a life of suffering, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone again. He was determined to be the one to bring you joy, protect you, and stay with you for the rest of your days.
Or... was he really?
His conviction would soon waver as the ominous sensation in the pit of his stomach intensified with each step closer to his home. Alongside it, the pain in his abdomen escalated steadily. What should have been a mere graze now felt like something far more serious. In truth, the discomfort in his insides was becoming unbearable.
Seonghwa gritted his teeth as he clutched the area of his wound one last time, his breath catching in his throat as a sudden wave of pain coursed through him. With a determined exhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to endure the agony that surged within him.
At the entrance of his estate, the staff responsible for guarding widened their eyes in recognition of their master's arrival. He quickly straightened his posture, putting on a facade of strength to conceal any signs of his injury, "Master, you're back!" One of the staff members exclaimed, their surprise evident as they rushed forward to assist him down from his horse.
Within moments, Jongho emerged from the estate, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he hurried to the general's side, "Sir, I assume you've received my letter?"
Your husband nodded, "I did. His Highness also sent me one, mentioning his intention to propose to your mistress."
The assistant's eyes rounded in surprise, realising the extent of the fourth prince's confidence to openly declare his intentions to pursue you to the general, "Well, he certainly made the attempt."
Seonghwa's steps faltered at this revelation, and he turned to face Jongho, who seemed equally uneasy, "So, it's already happened?"
Nodding, the younger man blinked anxiously, "S-sir, it's not good. The mistress knows," The general felt his blood run cold at that, but he pressed on, "Please, be more specific."
Jongho swallowed hard, bowing his head apologetically, "She learned about the Jang family's punishments and what you've done to the former minister. The prince took us to the palace torture chambers as part of his scheme. While she stood her ground there, she demanded that I tell her everything that happened as soon as we got back."
Suddenly, Seonghwa understood the source of his ominous feeling. He should have known better than to believe he could keep the truth hidden from you forever. Surely, your compassionate heart would struggle to accept what he did. Taking a shaky breath, he asked, "Where is she now?"
"She's in the House of Lotus, sir. She hasn't left since we returned from the palace two days ago. But don't worry, Eunsook has been making sure she eats her meals." Jongho reassured him.
With a nod of gratitude towards the assistant, your husband made his way towards your quarters, passing by the head maid who was taken aback by his sudden appearance. She knew he should have still been at the warzone. However, a quick glance from Jongho conveyed that the master had returned because of their letter. Understanding dawned on her, and she could only hope for the best.
The general's breath hitched as he laid eyes on you again after so long. There you sat in the pavilion, your attention fixed on the lotus pond before you. You appeared just as radiant as the last time he had seen you. However, this time, instead of your usual lady etiquette books laid open, his heart lurched at the reports detailing your father's latest status beside you. These confidential documents, presented to Seonghwa monthly, tracked the former minister's movements. Biting back the wince that threatened to escape him, he ignored the increasing pain in his abdomen and called out your name.
As your head snapped up at the familiar voice, you gasped at the sight of your husband at the entrance of your quarters. Slowly rising from your seat, you cautiously approached him, unsure if this was a hallucination. For so long, you had imagined him here, in this very spot, so many times that you couldn't count. You hoped it was not your mind playing tricks on you again.
This isn't another dream, is it?
You didn't understand why he was back; there was no news about the war being over yet. It's not that you didn't want him here, you just didn't expect him to be here all of a sudden. Standing before him, you felt your eyes water and your heart pound from seeing him again. It took you a moment to process his presence before you whispered, "S-Seonghwa... what are you doing here?" When he did not respond, you noticed his gaze staring past you at the reports Jongho was forced to hand over to you.
Despite the intense urge to pull you into his arms and never let go, all he manages is to harden his expression, "So, I see you've found out." He said, his voice strained.
This wasn't how either of you had imagined your reunion after the tearful goodbye. With a deep sigh, you nodded grimly, your mind flashing with reminders of your family's physical punishments and the gruesome things he'd done to your father, momentarily shattering the loving image in your eyes, "Yes, I did. And if I hadn't, were you planning never to tell me? What happened to not keeping secrets between us, hm?"
Truth be told, you found yourself no longer harbouring anger towards him for this matter. Over the past two days, you'd taken time to reflect, understanding his perspective and somewhat rationalising his actions. While you weren't exactly upset, you simply desired to hear the whole truth from him directly and perhaps receive a plea for forgiveness. In any case, you were prepared to run into his embrace.
Your words to the prince in the palace were sincere. Your heart belonged only to Seonghwa, and that wouldn't change. You firmly believed in the strength of your love, likening it to the resilience of your lotus flowers, enduring despite the obstacles. This situation, you believed, was just one more challenge to overcome together.
But instead of giving you the response you expected, your heart sank at the cold smirk he wore before speaking, "That's right, I never would have told you the truth if it were up to me. You women are so troublesome; it was stupid of me to think I could actually handle one for the rest of my life. Besides, what difference would it have made? This is who I am, and you knew about my reputation from the moment you were promised to me. So, are you really that surprised?"
Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned away from you, adding, "You've seen the reports. Now that you know what I'm capable of, I won't bother hiding anything from you any longer."
His words pierced your heart like daggers, leaving you reeling in disbelief. Shaking your head in denial, you whimpered his name, hoping for some semblance of the man you loved to emerge from behind that cold facade. This wasn't what you wanted from him. You wanted him to fight for you, to reassure you of his love, just as you had done for him. Confusion gnawed at your insides.
Why wasn't he fighting for you?
What was going on?
"Seonghwa, I-I don't understand—"
Before you could finish, he cut you off abruptly, his words laced with finality, "Yes, it was me. I did all those horrible things to your family. That's the kind of monster I am. But now, you're free. Your family is gone, and no one can dictate your choices anymore. You're your own person. You can do whatever you want and love whoever you want. If it's the fourth prince you wish to be with, you have my blessing. Maybe he's the one who can give you the companionship you desire."
With that, he turned and stormed out of your quarters, leaving you alone and bewildered, with no assurance of his return.
Once out of your sight, he released a shaky breath and clutched his wound, feeling the fabric already soaked with blood seeping through his bandage. Despite his blurring vision, he stumbled through the estate, desperate to depart before anyone noticed his condition. Seonghwa wasn't oblivious; he knew he must have been poisoned when the pain of his injury became too unbearable.
With a sinking feeling, he realised he didn't have much time left, and perhaps Prince Yeosang was right. Maybe what you truly needed was a husband who would consistently stay by your side and not cause you the worry he did.
I'm sorry, my love. This is for the best.
« Preview of Part 18 »
"Physician Jung, there's a letter for you."
Yunho furrowed his brows, pausing his work on his latest concoction aimed at alleviating all of your scars. Despite the challenges he faced in this endeavour, he remained steadfast in his commitment to helping you restore your skin to its original state.
Setting aside the herbs he was working with, he approached the entrance of his quarters to accept the letter from Jongho, "For me?"
The younger man nodded in confirmation, "Yes, oddly enough, it arrived via a military messenger. Initially, I assumed it was intended for the general, but it's specifically addressed to you. General Officer Song requests your urgent attention."
Blinking, the doctor processed the information, "Wait, do you mean General Park has returned to the estate?"
Jongho smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah. He arrived unannounced just a while ago, thanks to our letter. I suppose the situation at the warzone must have calmed down if he's able to return so quickly. He's with the mistress now. Let's hope things will improve with him here."
Relieved, Yunho nodded and quickly unfolded the letter. His stomach dropped, and his eyes widened at the hastily scribbled words, "H-he's with the mistress, you say?"
"Yes, what about it?" The assistant furrowed his brows in confusion as he watched Yunho shove the letter back into his hands before bolting out. Reading the letter himself, he soon found himself rushing in the same direction, dread filling his being.
No, this can't be.
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I was so excited that I got to writing this as soon as I completed all the assignments for the first half of my semester! Only three parts until the end of this story, how we feeling out there?🤧
Holy crap, thank you so much for 1.4k followers! As always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3
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imrllytootiredforthis · 9 months
Text
All in an hour
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pairing: felix x reader
summary: A lot can happen in one hour...in other words during what's supposed to be a fun night with all of the others felix instead suffers through a night of desperation, need and finally, pleasure
warnings: dom reader, sub felix, voyeurism (pretty much all of the others watch as felix gets ruined), mommy kink (though the reader's gender is never mentioned) nipple play, biting, marking, humiliation, degradation (felix's called a slut like once or twice), possibly more that i forgot
word count: 1.8k
a/n: yes it's short, i'm working on the changbin fic rn so take what you can get!
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A lot can happen in one hour.
In 60 minutes. 3600 seconds.
It's funny how when you break it down like that it seems smaller, more insignificant.
Or sometimes it's the opposite, when your eye is on the clock, counting down the seconds time seems to slow just for the fun of making one suffer.
Funny...
Funny how Felix has been sitting here for exactly that long. Three thousand, six hundred seconds. Each tortuous one feeling like an eternity.
He's experiencing the latter of the two. Watching the analog clock that sits on the side table by the tv. He swears it's broken, the seconds can't possibly be moving that slowly.
But they are.
And he's endured a whole sixty minutes of this insanity.
Of clenching his thighs together, trying to stave off the inevitability of his neediness. Especially in front of all the others.
And friday nights are usually his favourite of the week too.
Because it's the agreed upon day when they all get together, him and all his bandmates and sometimes you if you're off for the night.
The one night a week when they get together in one place, set aside work entirely and watch a movie, play games, eat junk food and be normal people for once, not perfect idols with unblemished skin and the vocabulary of puritans and priests.
Not worrying about their idol images and able to act as they are. Young people who if they weren't in the eye of the public would be in college, running around, experiencing the world of sex, drugs and whatever the hell they wanted.
And for one night, in the privacy of one of the three dorms or possibly your place they could do that. Be that.
But tonight he really can't help but want this to be over as soon as possible.
Really, truly, Felix doesn't want to be rude to any of his friends, the guests of the night but it is anything but his fault that your hand brushes over his inner thigh under the comfort of the blanket that covers the two of you, making him wanna kick them to the curb so that you can have a bit of privacy while he lets you have your way with him.
"Okay Hyunjin, truth or dare?"
And this annoying game, the one that Jisung is having way too much fun with, the lightweight he is, all giggly and fidgety as he points at Hyunjin, shouting as if they aren't sitting next to each other.
"Hmm, truth."
They all groan."Pussy!" Minho clears his throat, giving a good fake cough for measure.
Hyunjin glares but doesn't budge even when Han begs him to.
That's all he's picked all night and anything juicy has been extracted from the first few questions, leaving only the dry and boring yet strange ones that Han's drunk mind will come up with.
"Hmm, let's see,"
Felix nearly jumps out of him skin as you touch him again, a simple brush over his hips, it really should be nothing but he really can't help how sensitive they are and the sweat that begins to run down his temple only prove how easy it is to break his composure.
He zones out just in time to hear the question that Han comes up with.
"Would you rather eat an entire block of blue cheese in one sitting, or drink a whole glass of water from a rain puddle? That children have been jumping in, like all muddy and s..."
His voice tunes out, your hands sliding up and higher, twisting and playing with his already hard nipples. And he doesn't even care anymore. He's ready to kick all of these nerds out right here and now. Or, he's not even sure if he has enough energy to do that-at this point he's willing to let them watch.
Watch you make him cry and whimper and beg, play with his body and use it however you'd like.
He can imagine 50 different positions that you could fuck him in right now.
Missionary and mating press and doggy, you riding him, him riding you; him with his back against your chest just like this, legs spread wide open all on display fo-
"Oh~"
He gasps and you smile. "You have such pretty tits baby, just keep quiet and I'll keep playing with them."
You're practically all over him at this point, groping his tits with one hand, pinching at his swollen nubs, twisting them so hard he has to bite his lip to keep quiet. The other higher up, holding his throat in place as you pepper kisses all over his neck, nipping and licking, laving affection onto every freckle and spot with your tongue.
The blanket does almost nothing to hide your stolen touches. It's not hard to see the bump of your hand on his chest and paired with the fucked-out expression on his face and the fingers wrapped around his throat there's very little left for interpretation.
He can feel their eyes on him. Feel the attention he's gained and can't help the way he flushes under it.
His body burns under the weight of it. Humiliation searing through his body like liquid heat, his panting coming out heavier and more ragged.
No one talks anymore. The game seems to be over and even Han's drunk self has seemed to sober up with the show presented in front of him.
"Isn't he pretty?" You coo, nuzzling gently against his ear before nibbling at the lobe.
"So pretty," Felix isn't sure who said it, his head isn't working right, his vision is blurring and a pathetic whine slips out, shivering against you at the praise.
"Oh, he liked that." you laugh, an edge to your voice he's very sure is matched with a wicked grin even if he can't see you. "You like be called pretty by your friends? Like be watched while I touch you like this?"
He gasps like a fish out of water, nodding and squirming, goosebumps breaking out across his skin. You roll a nipple between your fingers again, pushing the blanket down and off onto the floor, forgotten before grabbing the hem of his shirt, pulling it up his chest. Plain instinct takes over as he opens his mouth wide, allowing you to press the fabric into between his lips-red and swollen from being bitten for the last hour.
Part of you is possessive. Part of you wants to keep this pretty, blushing, begging boy to yourself, away from the hungry eyes of the others. His whimpers to your ears only though that's unlikely wherever you are given how loud your baby is.
Instead though, all you can think of is the fact that he's all your's, only your's and you now get to prove that. Make him cum his brains out in front of all of his friends that you pretend not to see looking him with gazes lingering for too long. Force them to see what they will only ever see all while you can play and tease and deny and overstimulate him as much as you want. All while they have no choice but to watch.
"Mommy please, it feels-feels so good!" His hands grasp at yours, pawing at your fingers with no real intent, only clawing at your wrists like his body has no idea what else to do with itself.
He's always been particularly sensitive but it's only been increased by the tenfold now. He's sure he could come from this and this alone, From your fingers and your lips and the weight of hungry eyes devouring the scene in front of them.
"Please Mommy, please don’t stop." His hips buck up into nothing and you place a hand there, pinning his pelvis down with surprising strength.
“Baby," your tongue laves attention over his jawline, voice dropping low. "Putting on a show. You look like a slut.”
Others murmur agreement and his entire body burns in white-hot shame, unable to help the way his hips thrust, trying against you until you pinch his hip, hissing for him to behave.
He wants you to say it again. More than he should.
To his delight, you do.
"Presenting yourself to the entire room like a cheap slut." you say it nonchalantly, so much so that it makes him feel dizzy. "Moaning like a pornstar, look at you. Why, you're practically a natural." Pursing your lips and continuing on, tilting your head like you're telling him the news, how the weather is. Talking as if you're not degrading him within an inch of his life and he's not about to cum from the words alone.
Like it’s normal conversation.
Like this is a normal occurrence.
“Yes! I-I'm” The word crumbles on his lips, voice cracking into a high pitched mewl when your mouth slots against the hollow spot of his collarbone, tongue dipping in before you suck his warm skin. "I-" he gasps, "I can't."
Your mouth moves higher, right beneath his ear. "You will."
And then you bite him-hard.
Right on a pretty little freckle, teeth digging into his neck in a way that feels so inexplicably good that Felix keens.
Too much.
Back arching away from you, mouth falling open in a silent scream as his eyes flutter open and closed for a few seconds before rolling back completely.
Too good.
With the eyes on him. With your fingers rolling his nipples between your fingers. With your teeth sunk into his skin and the way your tongue laves attention around it, soothing the bite, warm and wet.
He's so fucking pretty, is all you can think, is all you're sure anyone can think.
Especially now, like this. All open and vulnerable like he's being presented. It's a wonder that your fingers haven't danced their way down to his sweatpants where an obvious bulge makes itself apparent.
The reality hits him as his head spins, his breath a heave.
He just came in front of all of his friends.
And an even harder truth hits him when he realizes just how much he wants you to do it again.
Of just how much he wants you to now overstimulate him to hell and back. In front of all of them.
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