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#these are the kind of fics i like to read. ones where they simply talk and hangout in between mission stuff.
landinrris · 20 hours
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Re: your tag “a top 10 video of the day tbh” - that made me curious. What ARE your top videos of the day and why?
Shuffled back through the videos for this, so here we go in no real particular order because I'm endeared to all of them and horrible with ranking things when they all make my mind vibrate in equal amounts. Shoving this under a "read more" because it got long (top 10 moments and all) and fic-y.
I'll start out with the first real video of the day that I remember (not counting Shaun Farrugia's Insta Story that clued everyone into Lando being on the boat). Just them dancing with each other in essentially a circle of people. Martin's hand on Lando's shoulder, his thumb splaying out along Lando's collarbone. Makes me weak and ill in equal measure. They have several moments caught on camera that feel like a "this is us being close while still in public," type thing.
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Them dancing together at the Decks. Who knows the state of Lando's sobriety at this point. It's so carefree and open. I love the little flags on his cheeks and the ribbon around his head (the chain of his necklace poking out the back of his hoodie overtop his undershirt). I'm pretty sure this is around the same time that Lando asks Martin if he wants a drink as well because Eva's on the other side of Martin as the camera pans up.
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This is a more understated moment that's pretty quick, but I just love that they're dancing in their own little world with everyone. Parked up next to each other because where else would they be? (original video link)
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This video of them with Lando asking Martin if he wants a drink 🫠. Lando taking the second to ask Martin if wants anything, Martin pulling him close so he can hear what Lando's trying to tell him, the person recording the video panning over to them and then almost immediately pulling away, Martin stealing Lando's drink and then not letting him go while he pretends to drink it.... it's every bit of the video as you can see 😅. Like bro, you can let go of him, it's okay. But no, it's another one of those little moments I mentioned earlier where they can let themselves have this little thing in the middle of a crowded boat with who knows how many cameras pointed in their direction.
instagram
This video simply because it's cute and short and sweet. Them both vibing. I've put it here more so because of Lando's little dance and shimmy. It makes me sickeningly endeared. Lando may have quit DJing apart from special circumstances, but you can tell he loves getting into the rhythm of it.
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I have... too much to say about this one... The fact that they're kind of sequestered off to the side a bit- Lando even behind what looks like a makeshift curtain of clothing. There are a few others around them, but boy if their attention isn't solely on each other. Their little mirrored dance is so much as well. But what absolutely annihilates me is the way you can tell they're both smiling at each other towards the end. Plus the fact that it looks like Lando either leans into Martin as the video cuts, or Martin pulls him in. In any case, it's a moment of privacy and it makes me ill.
instagram
These are two long Insta stories I recorded for reasons, the first one more pertinent to it immediately being here than the second. I just love Lando sitting in and amongst everyone. He's sitting next to Martin's father (which is an entirely separate thing tbh) chatting and having fun. The second video was included because when the lights go off and a spotlight shines back onto the area he was, Lando doesn't seem to be there, which was an interesting note I wanted to have in the records because of the shot of Martin making his way back in that direction during the first half. Much to think about. (Tumblr didn't like my embedded video, so here's a screenshot of the first bit, but you'll have to go through the link to see all of what I'm talking about)
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This was just a quick tiny thing piggy-backing off the last video, but it's a more closeup shot of Lando chatting with Martin's father. It makes me all soft inside that he gets close with the families of the people important to him. (Tumblr also didn't like the embedded video that was originally here, so here's a screenshot if you don't want to click through to see the actual clip)
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Putting this video here because of both Mat Normann's arms around Lando, but also because Martin's there vibing and dancing by his side. Like, they're truly just existing and having a good time. Need to know who gave Lando that stupid little visor. But again, I love it for the subtleness and the comfort with how packed that room was.
instagram
And then finally, this video that might as well be an hour long. The smiles, the bouncing back and forth... Martin's arm moves away from Lando at one point, almost like he was pulling Lando at the beginning. Many thoughts head very full. They almost never get to do this at the same time with each other, and it's an addicting feeling.
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leenfiend · 7 months
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what's ur type first < prev next > full comic
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 19 days
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ring pop proposal ♡
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fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.
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the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.
soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as you’re parents agree.
you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.
“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.
mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.
she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.
he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.
you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.
“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.
“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”
“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.
katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.
“gave her one of these !”
“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”
katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.
“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.
she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.
she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.
mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.
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seventeenpins · 9 months
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bad girl
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: 4.1k
summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+
warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)
a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh
you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.
he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.
you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.
there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.
"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"
"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."
there's another silence.
"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"
you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."
joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.
not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."
you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.
you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.
it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.
sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.
you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.
place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.
you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).
you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.
"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.
and then you register it, a couple of moments later.
you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.
you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.
"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.
you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"
"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."
you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"
he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.
"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.
"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"
he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.
"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."
there's a long pause.
"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."
your eyes widen.
"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."
you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.
"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."
there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.
he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.
you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.
you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.
his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.
you want him to say something. you need him to say something.
he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"
it's only then that he looks at you.
"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."
it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.
"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".
joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.
"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"
"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"
it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end
"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"
"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.
"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."
"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.
"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.
"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."
he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.
"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"
you swallow and click back to another tab.
"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.
you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.
"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.
he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.
he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.
'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.
he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.
"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"
you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.
"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."
you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.
"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.
he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"
you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.
as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.
as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"
you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.
he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.
"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."
he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.
"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.
"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."
"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"
he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"
"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.
as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."
you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.
he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.
"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."
you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.
you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.
"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.
"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.
"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.
he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.
"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."
"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."
"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."
you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.
that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?
you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.
"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.
"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"
he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly
he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.
"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"
"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"
you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."
"now beg."
two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-
"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"
he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.
"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.
good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.
you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.
"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"
his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-
"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"
that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.
he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.
after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.
"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.
"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.
"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"
he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.
before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"
he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."
you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.
"good." you say, and joel smiles.
"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."
"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.
that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.
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ravenromanova · 6 months
Text
Bad girl
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Parings: Wandanat x Female Avenger
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Mommy kink, Daddy kink, Fingering, Edging, Bonadge, Orgasm denial, Oral, Nipple play, Mean Wanda, Overstimulation. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!
Summary: Wanda and Natasha need to give their neglected baby some attention
This fic came from this request!
Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!
~
You could feel the two sets of emerald eyes throwing daggers at you as you talked to their younger siblings. Your plan was working a little better than you had intended and you were just hoping they’d break soon. The plan was simple, flirt with pietro and yelena, get Wanda and Nat to give you attention like you’ve been wanting all week.
Your girlfriends had promptly been ignoring you for over a week now and it was killing you. Honestly you had no idea why they were being so cold towards you. So you did what you did best…scheme. And by the looks that both redheads were giving you it was definitely working.
The three of you were downing shots at the bar in between sharing your most embarrassing mission stories.
“No i swear i almost died that mission” You laugh at your own stupidity from your last mission as you down another shot. Pietro went on about how Clint “accidentally” shot him with an arrow during training and you lost it. You slyly put your hand on the blondes shoulder making his twin fume.
“I think you’ve had enough malysh” A thick sokovian accent flooded your ears as her hands came around your waist. Her hands squeezed your hips making you squeak a little as you turned to look at her.
“But im having fun” You try to protest earning a disappointed sigh from the redhead.
“I said you’ve had enough” She repeated herself lowly in your ear causing you to shiver. “Natty is already in the room waiting for us” Wanda took your hand and pulled you away from Yelena and Pietro despite your protests. Her cool rings her digging into the flesh of your arm causing you to struggle in her grasp.
“Heyyyyy!” You pout as she takes you away from your friends.
“Bad girls dont get to have fun” She pushed you into the room where Natasha was waiting on the bed. You opened your mouth to say something but she pushed you onto the bed before you could.
“Anything to say for yourself?” The russian asked kneeling behind you. Your senses were all kinds of fucked as you were surrounded by the two women.
The air in the room was thick with tension as you felt Natashas hands come underneath your shirt rubbing small circles on your stomach. Both of the women raised an eyebrow waiting for your response but you couldn’t find one that wouldn’t make them mad.
“I-I just wanted your attention” The words fly out of your mouth before you could stop them. “You two have been so distant and cold towards me lately” Both women look at each other as you speak and they truly felt bad for abandoning their princess.
“So instead of coming to us about it you decided to flirt with our siblings?” Wanda seethed feeling her guilt melt away and her anger take over.
You simply nod your head at her question feeling all kinds of stupid at your antics. You knew your girlfriends loved you and were probably just having a difficult time lately but you still missed them.
“You could’ve just asked detka” The russian husked in your ear kissing it softly. “But since you wanted to be a slut we now have to treat you like one” Her hands found their way to the hem on your panties making you shiver.
“I-I’m sorry daddy” You groan feeling her hand pull away from your core. “I’ll be a good girl” Natasha chuckled in your ear moving from behind you to lay you flat on the bed.
“Oh we know you will detka” She said softly giving you a sweet kiss before they ruin you. Wanda flicks her wrist and youre left naked on the bed. Both women kneel on either side of you slowly rubbing your soft skin making you burn with desire.
“Here’s how this is gonna go” Wandas voice broke you out of your thoughts. “We are going to play with you and you only get to cum when we say so and if you cum before we allow you to then you will be punished more than you already are okay?” She says gripping your chin.
“Yes mommy i understand” Wanda smiles at your submission and then uses her magic to tie your hands to the bed frame. The red tendrils buzzed against your skin and made you smile.
Wanda made her way down to your wet pussy and stopped right before she got to your clit. Your hips bucked against her hand when you felt her cool hands come into contact with your heated skin. She slowly licked a stripe against your pussy making you moan but ultimately she left you wanting more. She flicked her wrist again and started drawing circles against your clit.
“Oh fuck mommy” You mewl feeling the buzzing on your most sensitive area. Wanda smiled softly and you and gave Natasha a look that sealed your fate for the night. You felt the older woman move behind you and rest your body against her chest. Her slim fingers made their way down to your nipples and started tugging on them.
“Yes yes yes” You chanted relishing in the touch of your lovers. You felt the coil in your stomach about to burst at their touch. But it was soon cut off when Natasha stopped touching you and Wandas magic ceased on your clit.
“Did you really think we’d let you cum that easily? Bad girls dont get to have fun” Wanda repeated her words from earlier coming back up so your faces are inches apart.
“B-But mommy” You whine trying to pull her closer and she responded by smacking your mouth.
“Do not talk back” She reprimanded with a harsh tone making you sink back into Natashas hold.
“Oh come on dont be so mean to her Wands. Our little baby just wanted our attention” Natasha cooed rubbing your cheek softly to soothe the sting.
“Stop being so soft of the little slut Natalia” Wanda sneered giving the russian her signature death glare.
“No, she’s just our dumb little baby who didn’t know any better” The russian played with your hair making Wanda roll her yes.
“She’s still getting punished for being a slut” The younger of the two women flicked her wrist again and the your clit started buzzing again.
“Oh fuck” You throw your head back onto Natasha in pleasure. One of Natashas hand found home around your throat applying just the right amount of pleasure.
The coil in your stomach was about to snap again feeling Wandas magic on your clit. Wanda stopped the magic once more making you whine in protest.
“Please mommy please let me cum” You begged the witch making her shake her head.
“Now what’s the fun in that when you get so worked up by me not?” She asked and Natasha just shook her head at the younger woman. You felt a shifting behind you and then Natasha was the one between your legs.
Wanda shot the spy a look that read ‘what are you doing?’. Natasha simply shook her head and parted your thighs.
“Well if you aren’t going to fuck her then i will” She simply said shrugging her shoulders and started eating your pussy. Wanda groaned at her girlfriend and slightly outed that her fun was over. She always knew the spy had a soft spot for you and Wanda did too expect for when you fuck up.
“Always so soft on her” Her words sent a chill down your spine making you look up on her.
“That doesn’t mean you have to be” Your words made her tilt her head and raise an eyebrow at you. “I-I like it when youre rough with me mommy” You say trying to pull on the magical restraints but failing.
Wanda just smiled and wrapped her hand around your throat and her mouth came into contact with your nipple. “Yes mommy-fuck-“ You moan when you feel Wanda biting and tugging on your nipple.
“So sweet detka” Natasha praised sticking two fingers in you hitting your g-spot. You threw your head back feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re enduring.
“Hurry up and make her cum” Wanda hurried Natasha as she stared at the spy making her speed up her actions.
“R-Right there-oh fuck- yes daddy yes!” The moan ripped itself from your throat and the coil in your stomach snapped as Natasha hit your g-spot just right.
“Good girl” She praised bringing you into a heated kiss. The two of you moaned as you tasted yourself on her lips. Wanda was quick to pull you two apart and settled herself in between your thighs again.
The witch wasted no time in shoving three fingers in you making you scream at the burn. She kept her eyes on you the whole time as Natasha started leaving marks on your chest and neck.
“Oh fuck mommy please can i cum?” You asked feeling your second orgasm build up. Wanda smirks and then rips her fingers out of you causing you so cry out.
“P-Please mommy” You beg pulling on your restraints. Wanda clutches your face in her hand again forcing you to look at her.
“Who do you belong to?” She asked giving you another smack on the cheek.
“You and Daddy i-i belong to you and Daddy” You responded to her question quickly which made her smile.
“You better start acting like it” She said and you nodded obediently as she made her way back down to your pussy. Natasha was still leaving marks on your neck when Wanda shoved her fingers back into you.
“Cum you little slut” Wanda urged fucking into you at a hard and rough pace. The coil in your stomach was building up at every stroke of your g-spot.
“R-Right there mommy fuck!” You screamed feeling your orgasm rip through you. Wanda continued to finger you not caring that you were pleading her to stop. Her fingers worked relentlessly against your core. It all became too much Natashas mouth of your nipple while Wanda fucked you hard had you reeling.
“Too much Mommy s-stop please!” Your attempt at pushing Wanda out with just your thighs failed you when she used her magic again to tie your thighs together.
“Fight me again and you wont get to cum for weeks” She muttered against your clit while her fingers were still in you.
At a certain point you lost how many orgasms your girlfriends had pulled out of you alternating between who fucked you. But after what felt like hours they finally stopped.
“I’m sorry for being a bad girl” You said in the midst of a fucked out haze. Both women laid next to you and Wanda tilted your chin to look at her.
“We’re sorry for ignoring you malysh. We’ll do better.. Just dont pull that again little one” She gave you a sweet kiss and then rubbed your cheek softly.
“We love you detka” Natasha whispered in your ear as her arms snaked around your waist.
“I love you guys too” You said with a dopey smile on your face. The three of you fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying the soft kisses and touches they gave you. That night they promised you no matter what that they’d never neglect their baby ever again.
~The end~
A/n: Sorry i kinda rushed this one i wanted to make sure i posted this one tonight since i have a few more kinktober fics coming out and i dont wanna keep not posting for days at a time!
I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other cites
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iznsfw · 7 months
Note
Hey Iz! Just would like to say that I love how you show Eunbi as softie in your fics which makes me go back to them every now and then. Hope you could do more of Subby Eunbi.
Maybe Wife Eunbi in the future perhaps?
Home
IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut
11,834 words
Categories | wife!Eunbi, fluff, fluffy-to-rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, (is it really IZ who's writing Eunbi if there isn't) daddy kink, praise/degradation kink, choking, squirting, BREEDING
Here you go, thank you so much for the feedback + kind words. Fulfilled this request not only because it was sitting in my inbox even before I announced commissions, but also because it's her 28th. Still a baby 😭
Oh, and also because I feel like shit after reading "Birthday Blues." It makes me cringe and I feel like I could write her better than that.
Happy birthday to the best tokki! To celebrate, take a shot everytime Eunbi says "daddy."
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You want to be anywhere but here. 
When will it all even end? It's nighttime but the evening doesn't even try to compensate for the heat in the morning. Where’s the departure of warmth? Where’s the cool breeze that could dull your aching bones? You're starting to believe that the world’s doing this on purpose.
If it explains anything, since your hatred for the sun is so solid: your job requires more than a degree and a calculating mind, so you're out in the fire of the large star for more than a few hours at a time with sweat pouring down on you more than the light is. You still have sunburns from the first time you underestimated it and went out without lotion. Oh, and from the time you overestimated it and still ended up with dark spotting your skin anyway.
It’s no different than what other employed people your age go through, but it remains… tiring. You get up before dawn even has a chance to call itself one and come home when the night’s on the brink of turning into day. The workload always renders you weak, when it's all physical rather than something you can get over with a keyboard, but you force a smile on your face. It'll all be worth it when you come home.
Click your phone on solely to see your wallpaper. It's her, of course, with your daughter in her arms. Yep, they're the ones you call the loves of your life. You simply can't wait to come home.
Well, coming home is a hell of its own, but it's the trip that makes it so. Often, there's the usual road rage from student drivers too inexperienced to be granted the right to let it out, and of course, traffic. 
That also renders you weak, if that’s anything that matters.
That's your current situation: stuck in a public bus in a concrete jungle ridden by vehicles. All the seats are filled with passengers of varying ages but the same exhaustion. That's the reason for your legs threatening to give up, and you wouldn't blame them. You barely had time to sit down for a break the whole day. Oftentimes, it results in your feet starting to quiver of their own accord, even when you lie down, as if still processing the strain it bore the whole day.
"Need a seat?" asks a man who's around the same age as you, but looks completely different. You wear a shirt stained with coffee and sweat; he’s dressed in a suit and pants. "Your legs are shaking."
At least, unlike the other men from offices you've met, he could read the room.
"Thanks," you say, smiling. You can't even muster politeness to refuse the offer when yes, your legs are shaking. Can't say "no, they just do that" or "ah, it's a talent." 
"No problem, man." He returns the smile. He gestures a brow to your phone, which you didn't even notice was still on. "Not to pry or anything, but—"
You know who he's referring to. Chuckle and nod. "Yep, my wife."
My wife. The words echo in your mouth long after leaving. Just two words bring so much happiness crashing into your heart.
"Could have figured." He leans against the pole. "You smiled like hell when you looked at her."
Did you? Most likely. Glancing at her still gives you butterflies in the stomach. Whether from afar, on a screen, or in person, the girl always has you in a chokehold. (Not that she could choke anyone with a heart and height like hers, but it counts metaphorically, for you're down bad. Down crazy for her.)
"Well, she makes my day.” Pause. “I love her."
"She must be a good wife, huh?"
Look down at her and now you're acutely aware of the big smile on your face. "The best,” you affirm. “Just the best.”
-
It takes hours for you to get through the traffic, and by the grace of god above, you're only going to bear the last of it now. Can't fall asleep—you're nearly there. Your subdivision is coming up to view. Nice place, really, rather nice for a first home, and—
There. You get off the bus and thank the man. You had a nice talk with him, and you hope to have more. He pats you on the shoulder and bids you goodbye.
Then, you thank the driver. He doesn't bother to say that you're welcome or anything. Can't be mad at that. You've all had a rough day.
The arc of your subdivision welcomes you to the aisles of houses lined up. You're home, but not quite. It takes walking to and opening the door of the house you've worked for and being engulfed in the arms of the woman you love to be truly home. It's cliché, you know, but it isn't anything far from the truth. 
Open the door to the world where you belong.
"I'm home," you say, because you are. This is home. You have coworkers and friends you love to hang out with, but nothing beats the comfort of being with your family. 
Gently close the entry to the doorway so as not to alarm your daughter and wife with the jingle of the mobile. Or worse, disturb their sleep. You don't expect them to be awake; it's barely two hours to midnight.
But still, there she is.
Kwon Eunbi, the woman you gave your last name and your love to. The ends of her long dark hair brush over the sweater she shares with you, or rather, has stolen with how many nights it hasn't been used by you. Her pretty little face shows exhaustion, but also a smile. Of course, it's that adorable grin you'll never get enough of.
Her steps pick up a faster speed as she rushes to you with light feet. Open your arms, and she fills them, fills them with her small body and fills the air with soft whines of complaint. They're complaints that say: where were you? Why were you gone so long? Please be here forever. Baby? Please. 
She really needed this hug from you, especially the lift. She needs someone to raise her up when she feels small. So, you sweep her off her feet.  Automatically, her legs join behind your waist. Heavy lifting at work has paid off—your arms barely struggle when you carry her, or maybe it's just Eunbi being as light as a feather as usual. 
Your heart aches at the hours she must have spent getting none of the help she needs from you. You nuzzle your nose to hers—if her whines speak of complaints, this act of yours tells her of your apologies.
"Hi there," you mumble through ruffles of her hair. She's still your baby girl after all this time.
"Hi," she says softly.
Press your lips to the crown of her head and pull her in tighter. "What are you doing up so late?" 
"Putting your kid to sleep," she replies. Eunbi juts both of her lips out. "She's such a brat these days."
"Got it from her mother," you reply testily, letting go and setting her on the ground to raise her chin anyway.
"Don't be mean. I had a terrible day. I missed you so bad."
You feel bad now for teasing her. While you have your share of trials, it's Eunbi who spends most of her time attending to your daughter. It's Eunbi who goes day after day helping you out with chores and paperwork with little complaint. You really should choose the right time and place for your banter.
"I'm sorry, pretty. How can I make it up to you?"
"Let's watch a movie," she says hopefully. Her thumbs create gentle patterns on the sides of your head. 
"A movie?"
"Yes. Just you and me."
-
That's how you end up on the sofa, with Netflix on and Eunbi with her head on your shoulder. Her thigh rests on yours, and if it weren't for her hair being the main focus of your fingers, you'd be caressing it. 
"You want some water? A snack?" She snuggles up to you, as if you were her favorite pillow. It's as on the nose as it gets; Eunbi loves being close to you, having your body on top of hers and just feeling your touch.
You shuffle through movie choices with the remote. The posters come up to view one by one with each click. What should you watch tonight? Nothing else than the usual, but you still have to check.
That one. You give her a question with a look though you know she'll nod. It's her favorite, too.
"You don't have to do that for me," you tell her. She really doesn't. You're satisfied having her in the crook of your arm, with one of her beautiful legs thrown over your thigh. "Just enjoy the movie. You worked hard today."
"But so did you."
"It's fine, Eunbi, I promise." 
Cup her jaw and squeeze those soft cheeks together. Her lips look particularly beautiful today. They're pouty, speaking wordlessly about something that's kind of like love. Love and other things. Love and things like virtues that you two aren't really required to follow when morality is common sense. Mostly. But Eunbi's a good person. A good wife. A good girl.
Lean in to kiss that flawless mouth. "Thank you for working hard."
"And thank you for coming home," she whispers quietly. Her gaze is soft. You could see your smile reflect in them.
It takes a strange soul, a soul that’s more than the right amount of grateful, to thank someone for being there. She says it everyday, a constant reminder of how loved you are. It’s weird to others to hear Eunbi say that while she sticks to your arm, but she’s your little oddity. She has been since the day you met her.
The film goes on and so does the familiar dialogue. You let out the occasional laugh—it’s still good with every watch. The characters say the same stuff, go through the same stuff, run through the same stuff yet you're on the edge of your seat. That's the thrill of rewatching favorite movies.
"You remember this one, babe?" Her pretty head angles, making her look more endearing. "I'll be so mad if you don't."
Her lips. Can't take your eyes off them. Brush your fingers on them, feeling their softness, and she giggles. "I do," you say truthfully, tipping her chin up, "but tell me anyway."
"Hmph. You just want me to tell you 'cause you forgot, right?"
"Please." Smile at her. "Pretty, why would I ever forget that night?"
She grins. It's maddening the way the ends of her lips tilt upwards to make her eyes small. All those flashy whites on display, she explains it to you.
"This was the movie we watched on our first date." She kisses your thumb that plays on her lip. Her eyes shine with the narration. "The Notebook."
That seems like so long ago, but it feels like just yesterday when you were nervously shuffling on your then sofa, with the most beautiful woman in the world right next to you. She was and still is so charming, those brows full and mouth always in a state of joy.
Rachel McAdams was your first crush, but Eunbi owns your heart. She has her position locked into the core of your chest for eternity. 
"Y-you asked me what my favorite movie was," Eunbi says softly, stroking the back of your hand, "and you bought me chocolate and popcorn so we could watch it together."
Yep. You were broke back in those days, but you were also very young—that only meant you fell easily for girls with a pretty smile and a soft heart. You hadn't tripped anymore since then. When you fell for her, Eunbi stood you back up and gave you that sweet little smile again, then told you there was no more falling from here on out.
That was why you made ends meet and bought the chocolate you always saw her eat before she took tests. You even talked a cinema worker into letting you get two large buckets of cheese-flavored popcorn for a crashed price, just the way she liked it.
If there was a will, as they said, there was a way.
Things changed since then. You now had the money to go by and support your wife and Yujin, but your heart kept its strings hooked on Eunbi. She had knotted them to her little finger and never left you once.
Remembering these makes you chuckle. "I was a loser, wasn't I?" It's no meaningless self-deprecation—your college student self was down bad for her in ways you can't begin to describe. "I acted so stupid in front of you all the time."
"But I haven't had a guy that willing to be mine."
"Damn. I really am the best, huh?" You stroke her hair. Direct her face to the television screen but she looks back up at you anyway, and when she does you notice her eyes are full with love.
"You are,” Eunbi whispers. She wraps her arms around your waist. "You are."
Your heart beats positively with feelings of wholesomeness for the girl you're so lucky to have. She's amazing, and you feel so fortunate to have someone who loves you the same way you love her.
"Did I mention you were so cute?" you say with a laugh. "You cried while watching it even though it was like the millionth time, and that's—"
"—how we first kissed," Eunbi finishes. She covers her face, humiliated by how she acted in those youthful memories that come back. "You kissed me because I couldn't stop sobbing."
"Even back then you were a crybaby, huh?"
She sulks. "You know me. I'm very emotional. I was so upset and then more upset that when you kissed me I was all puffy and sniffly and—"
"Shhh." You pull her closer and kiss her head. "It was the best kiss I've ever had."
Eunbi looks down with a smile. Content with that, nods understandingly. You resume toying with her locks of ebony while the movie goes on.
You're watching an old favorite, yes, the one that got you and Eunbi linked by hand and eventually ring. It's special to you, a foundation of some sorts. But by the unfocused serenity in her eyes, you can easily figure that Eunbi didn't ask to watch it just for the sake of it. She wants more than alone time.
She wants you.
Halfway through the movie, the look in her eyes is still there. Hence, stringing her hair in between your digits, you ask, softly, "You didn't really want to watch something, did you?"
Eunbi's cheeks flush. Looking down shyly, she shakes her head. "No," she says in a small voice. "I mean, I did! But it was supposed to be like buildup so it can lead to the actual… you know, but…"
You smile. God, she's adorable. You love it when she gets so small. It's an everyday look on her, but it remains as sweet as the first time you had the privilege to witness it.
You lift her up seamlessly and place her on your lap. Notice that the shorts she's wearing live up to their name with how they taper just barely at the beginnings of her soft thighs. They hide beneath the sweater that's twice her size, making her look cuter than she already is.
"Oh, Eunbi." Your hands hug her waist. It doesn't take much to figure out what she really wants. There's only one thing those watery eyes could possibly desire. "You could have just told me."
Eunbi realizes this and starts to whine again. "I'm sorry. I—"
"No, no." Your finger on her lips, you hush her before she could blame herself. "Don't be, understand? Just tell me what you want."
You want to hear her say it, to hear her tell you just how much she needs you. She looks at you nervously, and you rub down her thigh to encourage her. It's what the two of you are made for: to push and pull, go forward and take a step back. 
Eunbi stares at an odd spot on your shirt then sighs. "But you're so tired," she says wistfully.
"Listen: I never am for you. What is it?"
Silence full of hesitation and fear. 
Then, a revelation.
"I want you to fuck me, daddy."
She could have said that nickname alone and you would've known what she meant.
Eunbi's stomach presses against you. Each knee of hers is beside one of your respective hips. She's swallowing, clearly nervous, but continues closing herself to you. She finds comfort in the warmth of your body, and your encouraging timed squeezes on her waist.
Her breathing grows sporadic with every grope. She tenses up, too, and it's no use massaging her to help her loosen up when you swear to god she gets tighter each time.
"Daddy…" she moans, lip trapped under her teeth.
"Pretty?" You kiss the collarbone that peeks from the curved neckline of the sweater. "What is it?"
"Please, hold me. Take me to bed."
"Of course I will."
She whimpers when you take her into your arms and carry her again. Her little arms curl around your neck as you take her to your bedroom with the assurance that your daughter is asleep. Wouldn't want her to see how she was made.
You lay Eunbi on the bed. Kiss her. You're hung up on every aspect of her—her neck, her jaw, her collarbone. All those places deserve kissing since she's so perfect. Such a good girl, in every little way. 
But it's those lips that deserve yours. Her pink tiers are full and plump, and you dive into them gladly. Softness upon softness, you push her deeper into the soft resting place with how your lips ache to be engulfed with her. 
Eunbi closes her eyes. She's floating in the clouds. Your straying touch is too good, and your lips are more so. They know where to kiss so that she's giggling and squirming, know how to kiss so that her breath is gone. She's shuddering beneath you, and you have got to hold her steady as her soft whines fill your ears.
"You're so good, daddy," she gasps. "Oh, ohhh. So so good."
"You're better." 
Kissing Eunbi is always an ethereal experience. She's so eager and needy—she floats her back so her lips could clash deeper into hers and locks them so that they don't have anywhere else to go. Her hands are on the sides of your head, also locking it in place. You're going to be here forever, touching and feeling her.
You're okay with that.
"Not really," she says, shaking her head. She can't speak too well with your teeth nudging the skin of her neck. "Ah, I'm always so talkative and stuff and you have to listen. And you do, a-all the time."
"No no,” you tell her reassuringly. “I love hearing your voice, pretty. Mmm. Of course I would."
You're about to reach between her legs when you hear a soft bell sound come from your phone. Yujin's doctor? Your family? You don't know, but with the bell notification sound you reserved for messages from important people, it must be urgent. 
"Hold on." Stop and get up regretfully. Wipe your forehead of the sweat that accumulated from the heat of the moment. "I have to answer this."
"Awh." Eunbi isn't afraid to speak out her concern, even in a pouty little whine. 
"It'll be just a minute, I promise."
Ruffle her hair while checking your phone. Squint your eyes when you see that the notification is a text message from… Eunbi?
Open it. Then, your voice gets stuck halfway in your throat.
It's a video she sent. Just the thumbnail tells you this isn't just any video. The automatic run of the clip only proves that.
There, on your screen, Eunbi dances in your bathroom, a flimsy see-through cardigan stuck in a wet sheen on her body. The Burberry bikini stands out as it holds her heavy breasts. She's running her fingers down on her figure, eyes never disconnecting from the camera, as the spraying water runs down her legs.
The audio is a familiar sound to Eunbi. Deja vu connects two and two together, and soon her hands are on her face. Your smile extends to your ears.
"What's this, pretty?" You wrap an arm around her and guide her closer. Make her watch her sultry video. "Wanted to make daddy need you?"
"No… no, I'm sorry," she says meekly. Her eyes are all round and bright as they look up at you from behind curled fists. "I wanted to give you a gift, but then I thought it didn't go through since the internet got cut and—"
"You really thought to distract me at work? What if my coworkers see you on my phone putting on a show for me?"
"Daddy, I'm sorry." 
Your next command is blunt, almost intimidating: "On my lap. Bent over. Now."
It's supposed to be a punishment, but Eunbi's face lights up. She nods and does as she's told: she folds that amazing body on your thighs like it always does at your beck and call. Lift the ends of the sweatshirt so that her lower body is revealed to you. Her pretty backside is subjected to firm squeezes.
"Wanted this for so long, right, Eunbi?" 
You know her. You know she's been sexually frustrated all these weeks. You have been, too, but all these change today. You're actually going to work something out. 
The calm before the storm: your meaningful gropes on her supple ass cheeks. Fuck, no panties. Eunbi's just been waiting for it to happen all day, the naughty girl. She's looking back at you in anticipation as if this were something other than a punishment. 
"You waited, didn’t you? You wanted daddy to bend you over his lap and hit this perfect ass. I know you do." Your touch makes its rounds on her. "You're so fucking wet, too."
She nods. God, yes. She's been wanting this for so long. Working and caring for your daughter has held her up and left her deprived of your touch. You send shivers on her skin that's grown sensitive after weeks of no stimulation.
Then, it happens.
You raise your hand as high as it could reach, then throw it at the swells of her ass. Her cheeks bounce, a mesmerizing sight.
"Mmm, daddy," your wife purrs. Her backside blooms with red at your smacks. "That… that feels so good. Really good."
"You're a freak," you chuckle. Don't stop, though. Spank her again as hard as you could; she tosses her head back.
"Of course. O-oh my god." Her eyes float shut. "Fuck, yes, daddy. I'm so wet, I need you so bad."
"Do you now?"
"Yes. I want it, please."
"We��ll see. You wanna say you're sorry?"
"Sorry," Eunbi whispers, muffling her face into the mattress. Maybe she is. "Hnn. Sorry. Sorry."
"I bet you are. Count."
As time goes by, your blows on her ass grow harsher and she barely gets the numbers out of her mouth. You have a feeling she'll lose count along the way. She does. Of course. You've been with her long enough to know how she works, how she unravels.
For example: this spank guarantees sticky wetness on your fingertips. 
It does.
Second: if you grope her tits right here, right where they rest above your thighs, she'll moan louder.
She does.
Third: if you tease your finger on her pussy, slightly rubbing her clit, she'll scream.
She—
"Daddy!" Eunbi sobs, rutting on your lap. "Fuck, fuck, why does it have to hurt so good? Daddy—"
"I said count, pretty," you reprimand her. As much as you love to hear how desperate she gets for you, the rules are clear. 
"God, please…"
"I know I fuck your brains out until you can't think, but I promise you I'm not the almighty."
"So mean. So full of yourself. H-hnn—!" Eunbi retracts her ass from your hand once you deliver what would have been the final scolding slap if she weren't acting up. "Daddy, please don't stop."
She should be hating the idea of this when it's supposed to be a punishment. She should be quivering under your hand, promising to be a good girl, your good girl. Instead, she's sobbing, begging for more like the pain it brings is essential for her to breathe. Like if you don't slap and smack her rippling ass, she'd go weak.
She's weak with or without. Real tears leak from her eyes and her whines have reached the maximum point of need. You can feel her wetness on your lap. 
"Count," you sneer. "From the top. I'll only ask again."
"Sorry. Hah. One."
"Bet you love this, don't you?" Slap her butt so it bounces in response. "Your cheeks are all sore and red for daddy now. But you want more. Why do you think you want more?"
She grows delightfully wetter. Your fingers stick with her juices.
"Oh," she whines, shutting her eyes. "Two."
"I think I know why. You're weak for anything daddy does to you. I could fuck you on the desk, fuck you in the waiting room at Yujin's school, and you'd be such a good girl. You'd be bending over letting me do it. Am I right, Eunbi? I think I am."
A waterfall starts from between Eunbi's legs at your words. She wants you to use her, to know that everything you said is right. She is a sucker for every little thing you want to do to her. 
She has to take a breather before saying, "Three."
"I think I know something else, too: you just want to be daddy's pretty little girl. It's all you ever want that you'd let me kiss and fuck you dusk to dawn. You'd even let me smack your ass all day and make you weak at the knees. It would be a shame if you came just from this spanking. But I know you will."
She clenches yet she can't fight off your harsh blows and firm squeezes. She can't count that many! Her poor butt is red and aching. Stopping is not an option though, not when she's looking at you with watery bunny eyes full of want and denial.
"Aww, princess, gonna cum? You look so close. You're shaking so much. Are you gonna cry? Cry because you want to cum so bad? Then do it, Eunbi. Cum all over me."
She shakes her head. "W-won't, cum…" She purses her lips and squeals, trying to fight off what's already in store for her. "Won't… cum, da– daddy!"
It's the way she screams your name for help even if you're the one hitting her; the way she wails in your lap and remains there in spite of the spanks that follow each other at the heel; the way she screams out for you and a god that would have disapproved of what you two were doing. Eunbi kicks and struggles and spasms, actions ridden with tears. It's what drives your slaps to unfurl with a fury that you'd never dare do unto her if this setting were any different.
"Daddy, daddy! Ohh shit, please—"
Stuff your fingers into her small mouth and smack her rapidly. She screams and cries, clinging onto the last bits of sanity. You're too harsh with her. Shouldn't daddies be taking care of their baby girls? So why are you so mean?
And why is she loving it? 
"Oh no." Palm her ass. Gently squeeze its round globes then kiss her neck. "My poor, pretty little thing. Who did this to you? Who made you so wet and needy?"
It's the mixture of mockingness and concern that has Eunbi trembling on your lap. You could be so kind yet so cruel to her. Seeking solace in the gentle circles your hand makes, she whimpers out, "You, daddy."
"That's right." Nudge your erection to her mound. "And who's making me this hard?"
"Me." As she says it, her ears turn pink. You've praised her so many times and still her face grows warm with self-consciousness.
"Of course. You're too fucking pretty. Want to sit on daddy's lap?"
"Yessss, please." 
Eunbi wipes the tears from her eyes. Her legs are liquid, and you're required to help balance her when she stands up to sit down anyway on your legs anyway. 
She curls her legs into your lap and raises her fingers to her lips. You're rubbing her arm and telling her you're here, yet another truth. You'll always be here for her, even when you get rough with her. Don't mistake it all for merely lust.
This is what home feels like. 
Rock her for a while. Let her breathe. Carefully brush away a stray tear and kiss the place it used to reside. 
"I love you," you tell her. "I love you to death."
"I love you, too, daddy," she whispers. "My daddy."
She's trembling. You furl her into your arms more tightly and press your mouth to her hair. She pushes herself deeper into your touch appreciatively. 
With her hands returned on her lap like the good girl you made her and eyes tearful, she looks so cute. She looks like the girl who's exactly the type to get on your thigh and let you do whatever you want to her, and it couldn't be more accurate. She's perfect.
"Pretty girl, pretty girl. Eyes up here."
Eunbi's sniffling quietly, and you run your hand up and down her back to calm her sobs.  She redirects her focus. She's obedient now, following all the rules. 
You ask, gently, "Need to breathe?" 
"I'm okay, daddy," she says. She leans against your chest. "Thank you."
You nod. That's your go signal. Your green light.
So, your touch traces from her shoulders to under that big sweatshirt. Right there between those fantastic legs. The spanking left her weak and wet. Just a few rubs make you hear the slick sounds.
You feel her then, right there on her drenched core. She tenses up again. Her legs close yet you part them to gently, gently tease her nub. It only goes up and down like that but she's already quivering again.
That draws a gasp out of her. She looks at you, swallows, then closes her eyes tightly as you continue. Only soft whimpers squeeze past her lips. She's taking it all with such resilience that you're actually amazed. 
"That's it. So pretty and good for me. Maybe I should reward that, don't you think?"
Eyes still closed, she nods. Excellent. Test her limits with poking a single finger into her waiting pussy. 
That's how her eyes end up fluttering open. You finger her fast and hard, making the poor girl have to go through another bout of harshness. She's enjoying it in spite of it all; her pretty pussy just clenches perfectly around you, ever so wet. 
"Daddy." She says this with urgent breaths. "Daddy? Need you." Then her voice gets higher. "Daddy, please—p-please—"
"I'm here, hon," you say, reassuring her as you toy with her cunt. Her legs shake, but you carry on. "What does Eunbi want me to do?"
You're blocking her thoughts from forming. She lifts herself up and grinds blindly, but she knows she has to answer. She knows she has to tell you something, because that's what good girls do, right? And Eunbi's exactly that: your good girl. Your good, sweet little girl.
Oh, but she can't, she can't. She can't answer it when your fingers are all the way inside her, constantly shoving and pulling strings of moistness out of her. She turns to you and opens her mouth, but she never gets to say anything. 
It continues like this for lengthened moments, with Eunbi barely holding on and squirming on top of you, and your fingers neatly sheathing and unsheathing from her pussy. Her vulnerable expressions show that she can't talk or act properly—all she can do is moan and squeal and beg. 
It isn't a fair game. Recognizing this, you kiss the side of her head and propose, "Let's make this easier, pretty." 
And you make it anything but. You spread her legs and press her back snug to your arm. From there, you keep fingering her. Aim to ruin all the resistance in her pussy. Impossible; she's too damned tight. 
"Where would you like me to touch you?" you ask. "Your tits?"
Reach up under her clothes to feel her up. Squeeze her breasts. She squeezes up once more and sobs a little. The breaths leave her nostrils sharply when you start to grope her. 
"Mmm." Eunbi nods, but still looks unsure.
"Your thighs?"
Rub them down. They're always so meaty and soft. She purses her lips and nods at that, too.
"Or your ass?" you ask with a wicked grin.
Take one finger out of her and instead lead it to her asshole. Tap it teasingly. She scurries her butt into your hands.
"It could be anywhere, Eunbi. Just tell me."
Eunbi nods. But she needs to enjoy this for now. She lets you fuck her with your digits before settling for a decision. 
She touches your mouth with a quivering finger. "I need your mouth on my pussy, daddy," she says. "Please? I'll be careful not to hurt you, I promise."
You stop fingerfucking her. Place her gently beside you. Then, you move upwards before staying right below the headboard of your bed. Your back is flat on the mattress.
"No need to be careful," you tell her. She could break your neck and you wouldn't care. "Just come here and sit on my face."
Your blunt words make her blush. But she crawls up and spreads her legs. You're there to appreciate her beautiful legs and her shaven, pink little pussy. She looks down at you with concern, but you tap her thigh reassuringly. 
Convinced, Eunbi places herself gingerly on your mouth. The first contact is effective in breaking her again for she lets out a vulnerable little moan and raises her hips again, only to sit back down on you.
As expected, Eunbi tastes like everything sweet, everything beautiful. You slide your tongue up and down between her pussy lips, then flick it on her clit. She cries out, her hands instinctively going for your hair. But she remembers her promise to be careful. She's forced to have to bite on the back of her hand.
You make it more difficult for her. You love keeping her on her toes. Rest your hands on her thighs—her thick, full thighs—and pull her down. You don't care if she'll suffocate you; you'd give anything to have her reeling and crying. Her legs squeezing your head is your reward for eating her out so well.
"Daddy," she hiccups. She seals herself on your head and freezes due to the pleasure. "Feels so good, keep doing that, please."
How could you deny her of anything? She tastes so sweet and whines so prettily that you have no other path to go down than the way to eating her pussy harder. 
Kiss her labia lovingly, a teaser for the main thing, which is slipping your tongue all the way into her tight hole and circling it inside her. Waste no time in licking up and down, appreciating her folds. 
Her body barely weighs down on you. She remains afraid of hurting you, and you have to grip her hips to keep her down. Soon, it becomes a game of lifting and chasing, as if her cunt were a distant dream you only wish to attain.
You're determined though. Too determined for a dreamer. Your hands caress her fit ass to ease the pain your spanks induced and you reach deep inside her to trigger more juices into your mouth.
"Please, please, please—" Eunbi's voice cracks and she buries her face in her hands. She doesn't even know what she's begging for now. All her thoughts have vanished. You're dumbing her down into a shaky, squirting mess who needs only her daddy's mouth.
She's carefully grinding down on you, keeping herself slightly aloft so as not to crush you. But you insist on the opposite; you tug her down and seize her clit between your lips. Start to suck, hard.
She's not so careful anymore. 
"Daddy!" Her pussy crashes down on your face and begs for more of you, begging you to draw her needs beneath and fulfill it. 
Of course, you give in. You torture her clit with sucks that transcend control, keeping it latched tight between your lips, and grab your wife's hips to scurry her downwards. She can't go anywhere now.
"Oh—oh no, daddy," she gasps, her fingers curling around the headboard like ribbons, "don't do that! Don't do that, I'll cum!"
That's exactly your intention. Pulling down her thick thighs so that her pussy covers your face, you let your tongue dance and glide everywhere on her eager little core. Eunbi screams. Tears pour down her face as her juices spill down on you. You lap her nectar up the best you can, but some still slide on your chin, as well as the sides of your face. You make up for the lost drops and instead go for those that are dripping directly from her cunt—yes, this will make you a god. Feels accurate when you’re already in paradise with Eunbi’s legs around you and her screams filling your ears like prayer.
"Daddy, slow down a little!" Eunbi yells. Her thighs crush your head while her hips cringe to and fro. She purses her lips before letting out a feral cry. "Daddy!"
You follow up with a few last licks at her sensitive clit. Eunbi's out of breath, but you're not, despite being held captive by her thighs just a few seconds prior. That's why your lips still find her pussy, bringing it to complete weakness, cornering its sensitivity and preying on it. Eunbi sobs, wrists on her face, as you continue violating her pussy. You're never leaving it unattended.
"Daddy," she says tiredly. "Oh, daddy, too much, daddy—"
The natural flood of her orgasm overflows. You tap on her thigh encouragingly and open your mouth to taste her. "Yes, yes, that’s it, you’re so fucking delicious. Daddy loves when you cum on his face. Come on, baby, come on, my good girl."
Eunbi's legs give out. She moves away from your head in order not to hurt you and collapses on your bed. Her whole body is aquiver.
"Daddy," she calls out for you. "Daddy, please."
"You're alright, baby," then trail your thumb along her chin and jaw; guide her with demonstrations and soft words, "take a deep breath." 
The overstimulated girl quivers and mewls. 
"You're alright," you say. Kiss that forehead that's recently been covered with a cute fringe, and then kiss her mouth. "My pretty girl's alright. Daddy loves you."
It's a reminder that you'll make again and again without getting tired. Eunbi's so lovely that you want to make her know she's safe with you, that she's loved.
Her reply is expected but relieves you anyway. "I love you, too, daddy." 
Her breath catches as you kiss her. It's messy, torrid, too, when her hands hook into your head with a touch that's weak yet worshipful. 
“Mmm, my daddy, my only daddy.” She kisses you sloppily, almost drunkenly. One thing leads to another, and your hands are on her hips to lead her on your lap again. Her breathy bedroom voice turns you on so much. “I love you. Daddy, I love you so much.”
"Just wanted to taste yourself on my lips, didn’t you?” you ask. You see right through her.
She blushes. There's your answer.
“No problem with that. You taste delicious. Here.” 
Swiping up a line of slick from her delicate pussy, you guide your slick fingers into her mouth. She latches onto them and holds your wrist in place as her sweet mouth seeks to taste everything. 
"Thank you," she murmurs. "Love you. So good to me."
This is what paradise is. Eunbi's broken words spill from the sides of her mouth while she licks her cum off your fingers. Her eyes are closed, deep in worship for you. What a worst time to be religious. After having just spanked her and eaten her delicious pussy, she has no place to be saintly. Sacrilege at best. 
But you let her, since she's so good. Such a good girl for you.
"You’re good to me, too, pretty." The nickname has not once left your mouth with how it fits her so much. The bangs she sports and those naturally full, pouty lips make her the most beautiful woman in the world. "Since you're such a thankful princess, you deserve to cum again. You want to cum again?"
"Really? Daddy? Daddy, you'll let me cum again?" 
"You don't want to?"
"No, no, I want. I want it." Eunbi nods her head and looks up at you with desperation. "Make me cum again."
"So demanding," you reprimand her. "Guess you don't want me to go through and worship these?" 
Reach up behind her and touch her right where everyone expects you to: her large, round tits. They're what everybody looks at, and it honestly makes you feel a little possessive. But you always are reminded of how right they could be. They look so full even behind thick fabric.
"Daddy!" They're also where she's most sensitive. She lets out tiny squeals all while you're having your wicked way pinching the pink tips.
"Ohh, you like that, huh?" You squeeze; she locks her legs together and whines. "Makes you want to scream for me? Scream and yell like a needy little girl?"
You know how this goes. Given the sensitivity on her breasts, she'll whine out and beg more than she would if you touched her anywhere else. She'll probably even cum on the spot like she did when you spanked her. There's a common factor here, you think. Gotta place what that is.
Eunbi's eyes water and she says, "Daddy, please. I need you, don't be mean to me."
Found it. It’s you. Not to be narcissistic and everything, but it’s definitely you.
"Alright. Take your clothes off. Want to see how pretty you look under all of them."
She lifts her shirt up. Your mouth waters. Each bit of her perfect, curvy body is uncurtained—the flat of her tummy, the curves of her hips, the undersides of her breasts. Then her breasts themselves. The deep cleavage has your eyes coming out of their sockets, along with the massive recoil they do as they're released from the hem.
Her hair is messier now. The neckline and fabric did a number on them. The fringes are all over the place. 
Laugh fondly. Meanwhile, you straighten her bangs. "You alright there, pretty?" you say. 
"Mhm," she hums, giggling, too, albeit shyly. Then her eyes turn needy, their glimmer unmistakeable. "Please?"
You push her down gently on the pillows, pinning her back to the blankets. Her long hair is in a disarray behind her as you kiss her body. The flat of her tummy tenses when you press your lips there. What really gets her moaning, however, is your mouth on her tits. Her beautiful, perfect tits.
Press them together with a hard squeeze. Run your tongue on one of the hard nipples. She sharply gasps, looking down at your sinful little doings. You gaze back up at her with unwavering eye contact as you suck on her nipple as you did to her clit.
Same effect. She's whining again. 
"Daddy, daddy, daddy—" 
You've lost count of the many times she's said that. 
You don't mind adding a lot more to the list.
"What is it, baby?" 
Eunbi makes her desires known through bated breaths and little moans. "Now,” she says. “Inside me. Please."
It takes no time taking your pants and briefs off. It is painful, though; your cock is a rod solid and lengthy for the idea of fucking your wife after all those weeks of being held back. Her naked body waiting for you just tempts you even more. Her legs are spread, her face radiates need, and her pussy is dripping wet. You know she wants you the same way you want her.
So why hold back?
You can’t hold back your feral pump nor your groan either. Slipping inside Eunbi’s warm, drenched pussy is like reminiscing a wild memory. Her grip brings you back to all the times you’ve made love to her, right on this bed, until she curled up and begged you to go faster. It makes you promise to give it to her this time hard and fast, the way you know she likes it.
Give her every inch, then take them back. Give them again. Withdraw. You choose this cycle and Eunbi couldn’t love it more. You have to battle with the tightness her pussy inflicts all the time, and it’s both a pro and a con with how it hugs your length and caresses it with the texture of her walls while refusing to let you in. You can see Eunbi’s face twist as she tries to relax, but each part of you that she’s fed, she ends up tightening and moaning again.
“You’re fucking me s-so well,” says Eunbi strainedly. Her fingers sink into the sheets as she trembles with your unforgiving thrusts. “I missed this so much.”
You did, too. You missed controlling Eunbi sexually, having her weak and on her knees. You missed the comfort of her warm little hole that’s always skilled in its job of milking you dry. It’s still strong and exceptional in its talent.
Eunbi’s noises are loud and unbridled. She always drones on and on, something that makes her cuter than she already is, and there’s no difference in the bedroom. She moans and talks about how amazing it feels, how you’re penetrating her perfectly. And all the same, you love hearing her.
“So fucking tight,” you say. You just have to drive your hips upwards, to send her rocking to and fro. “Take it all, okay? I know my pretty girl can do it. She’s the perfect thing for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”
Eunbi’s ears grow pink. She nods, because that's another thing that’s true. She is your perfect girl, your only girl you’d take at night. Your husky words of praise go at odds with how you’re fucking her, with her ass up in the air and her legs in your hard touch, but it turns her on so much that she’s willing to do anything—anything for you to go on and have your way with her.
And have your way with her you do. You push yourself past her pussy lips and let them hug the sides of your length after you fill her up entirely. Her cunt pulsates, and it drives you to drop the whole of your hips in between her legs, flicking past her G-spot.
“M-mmm!” Even with just a hum, Eunbi stutters. Your hands on her tits kneading and tightening make her lose all common sense. Coupled with your cock ruining her insides, she can’t think straight. 
She doesn’t have to when you’re here to catch her. You’ll think for her so she’s allowed to lie back. Right now, you’re thinking of completely ruining her.
“Oh, oh my god, daddy,” she says the moment you thrust up into her with more precise strokes. She looks down at your cock swiftly drilling her. "That's—so—ffffuck!"
Eunbi begins to curl up, the heat overtaking her, but you spread her legs. Force her to take you by stuffing her cunt even more. Her tightness grows and soon she's yelling, almost in an episode of frenzy. 
You're humping her like you need it as much as you would water and food, without care for how much you're digging her into the blankets or how much she screams. There's only one thing you want and that is to be buried all the time in her sweet little pussy. You can tell that it's what she wants, too—her hips gyrate, weak yet determined, and she's filling the room with her screams.
"Yes, yes, yes." She places a hand over the back of your own that's on her breast. "Fuck me, hurt me, d-do whatever you want with me, I'm just your pretty girl—daddy, don't stop, please!"
To hear her talk about herself so lewdly and feed your mind with the idea that you could do anything to her makes you force your groin up and slam her legs on your shoulders. Fight against the resistance of her pussy, slap her bouncing thighs, push only forward to fill her up.
"I promise, Eunbi, I'm not stopping," you say, a new oath made. You lean in darkly and stare right into her eyes. They're that of a prey's; she had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're squirting and crying, and I know that's what you want, right? To have daddy make you cum like he always does?"
"Yes, faster, please!"
"Fuck." You pause, and before she could complain, you place a hand on her throat and push her down. "Then you're gonna fucking get it."
She's talked to you about this before. She's proposed to have you pin her down and choke her, shyly saying it with a cutesy plea to her words, but you always refused. You didn't want to go too far. Now, however, you give her what she wants: 
Close your hand around her neck. The look on her face is immaculate—her eyes are wide with both bliss and thrill, and her mouth is open. For the first time, she doesn't make any noise. She's letting it all out in a silent, withheld scream. 
Squeeze. She gasps. There's a river of wetness inside her; it flows freely and limitlessly, pouring onto your shaft and the sheets. 
"God, pretty," you say lowly. "Your pussy gets so tight when I choke you. Like you want me to keep choking you until you beg and beg. What's with that now? I thought you wanted me to be gentle."
Your hips don't stop; they're almost invincible. They don't tire of pistoning in between her legs. And Eunbi doesn't get tired of squeezing, of crying. Her whole body's in desperate heat, and you're the bad predator giving in to it. You’re using her, violating her—and she’s sprawled out taking it all, loving each second of it.
You firmly pinch her nipple. Her frozen, desperate look is broken with her loud scream. Its volume is tightened when you curl your fingers harder into the flesh of her neck. That's the neck you've kissed before, when she wanted to make love and when she needed a hug—it's so out of character for you to suddenly be using it in depriving her of a breath she so desperately needs.
“What? Can’t speak?” you say. Words say themselves without your mind registering them first. Even so, Eunbi clings to each and uses them to roll her core harder into your erection. “Is daddy choking you too hard? You’re so fucking wet from me doing it, pretty. I should do this more to you. I’d fucking keep you here and choke the hell out of you.”
Oh, the fantasy is tempting. You imagine calling a day off from work, as hard as it is to register for one, and using it to fuck your wife in all the corners of the house. With Yujin at school and the schedule empty, you could fill her pussy with cum and have her bent in all the best positions, each done with your hand on her throat. By the helpless look on her face, you know she loves the idea, too.
“Yes, daddy!” she screams. Those are your words of affirmation. Her gasps for air leave her more often, yet you keep your hand pinned to the base of her neck. “More, I need more, please give me more!”
“Look at you. You’re crying so hard. I can feel your throat pulse. You need to breathe so bad. But you want daddy’s cock more. What should I give to you then, huh, baby?”
“M-make me cum! Make me cum instead, daddy, I don’t need anything else!”
You could do that. It’ll happen anyway. She’s far too tight for one person to handle, backfiring on her so much that it drags her closer to the edge. And you’re pushing her with each thrust, with no offer of rescue.
“Such a spoiled little girl,” you tut, leaning in to bite her ear, “but so fucking pretty.”
Pretty girls like her, no matter what they do, deserve to cum. Swing yourself deep in between the hanging pillars of her legs and cum she does. Mouth open and on the cliffs of desperation and submissiveness, she lets out a squeezed scream. Her fist is firm on your wrist, making sure it doesn’t leave her throat as the thrill of the danger makes her cum harder than she thought she would.
Finally, your hand loosens. She gasps. Her wonderful chest rises and falls, air finally entering her lungs. Her head feels light; it’s the most gratifying experience she’s had in a while. 
It’s the same for you. Maybe the sexual frustration that accumulated over the weeks was a good thing. You let it all out on her and now you’re throbbing.
“Daddy?” She’s a survivor of a storm who just emerged from the flood of lust.
“Yeah?” You soothe her, like you always do whether after sex or when she’s overwhelmed. “You want anything?”
“Think… you need to look at the time.”
“Let me run you a bath first, please, baby?” You lean down and kiss her forehead, rubbing the space on her chest where her heart beats fastly. It worries you, and for a moment you wonder if you should ever do this again. She’s catching her breath and failing. “You’re so worn out.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, daddy, listen to me, please?” She closes her eyes to collect her composure that was lost after and while you fucked her.. “Look at the time.”
“It’s…” You steal a look at the digital clock sitting on your bedside table. It’s sometime after twelve midnight. “Midnight.”
“And you, haah, know what that means, right? Right?”
“It’s…” 
It hits you. The knowledge infiltrates your brain and suddenly all lust is gone. Your heart’s only filled with feelings of affection for the girl you’re incredibly lucky to share your love and home with. You welcome her into the depths of your embrace.
“It’s the twenty-seventh,” you murmur. “Your birthday.”
Your own heart starts to beat faster at the thought. Eunbi’s just spent another year with you, another year with Yujin. Your family grows everyday with love, and it brings you more satisfaction than your job could.
You look at Eunbi. Observe her sharp nose, beautiful hair, and lips that are always calling out for you. You realize in that moment that you can’t be more grateful that she’s the girl you married. There are plenty of girls out there who might have wanted you, but your heart doesn’t belong to them. It belongs to her, your wife. Your princess.
“Happy birthday.” Stroke her hair and gently tuck it behind a red ear. “Baby girl, I’m so grateful to have you, you know?”
She flushes. Eunbi loves that you’re always there to tell her she means something. “Thank you.”
You ought to do something special for her. She works so hard and loves so hard that it’s only right that her birthday is special. But your ideas are simple, and you decide to just let her choose. Anything she wants, you’ll give.
“What do you want us to do today?”
Eunbi takes a moment to inhale, then opens her eyes. She’s never looked more sure. Though her voice is weak, it holds conviction.
“I want us to stay here in this bedroom, daddy.” She clasps your hand and places it from her face to her pussy. “I want you to fuck me harder. I want you to do it until I can’t feel my legs.”
Your eyes widen. She’s never been this upfront. It’s rare to see that firm look in her irises.
“Then…” Eunbi pauses although she knows what to say next. She knows what she wants from you. “I want you to breed me, daddy.”
The silence from your end is lined with shock. You can’t say anything—your words are lost in the ends of your mouth due to the feeling of Eunbi’s slick, hot pussy under your touch. She’s as wet as she was before. She obviously wants more.
“You didn’t cum yet,” she explains. She grinds your fingers on her lacy, wet core, and whimpers at how hot it feels post-orgasm. “So when you do, I want it all here. Right here. It’ll fill me up so much that I might get pregnant.”
It’s been a while since you released inside Eunbi. You’ve always taken special care to practice safe sex, even unprotected. You’ve let her swallow your cum instead or unloaded into a rolled condom. Now, the offer she’s making—of bearing you another child, of letting you give her another little joy to take care of—has you speechless. Would she really let you?
“You’ll do it for me, right?” Eunbi rolls on top of you, her amazing body pressed to your skin. Although she’s above you, she couldn’t be more of a submissive, needy girl. Each limb of hers strains to be touched and controlled. There’s a reason she wants you as her birthday present. “You’ll pound me full of cum and drill it all into my womb, all so I could be your pregnant birthday girl?”
“Pretty…” you say, not knowing what else to tell her. Hesitation curls around your mind and body. You’re not totally convinced she’s sure about this.
Her large eyes are wanton with lust and her lower lip’s sealed beneath those teeth. She nods, happy that you finally responded. 
“Yes, yes, that. You always call me pretty, daddy, and… I really like it. But can you imagine how much prettier I could be if you gave me your baby? My tits would look even bigger, and they’d be so sensitive that if you sucked them, I’d cum on your lap instantly.”
How do you breathe again?
“And when people ask me about us, I’ll be the good wife at your side, standing there and saying I’m just so happy to have my daddy’s baby.”
The thought of Eunbi shaking as you overstimulated her by just playing with her nipples makes you warm on the inside and out. Additionally, that image she painted of herself: the silent girl, the pretty wife beside you who’s full with a baby and wearing a smile so innocent it deceives people of what she wanted today—it makes you feral. Not even warm or hot, just the pure carnal desire to knock her up.
“And you know what else, daddy?”
“W-what?” Now you’re the one who feels like they were just left in a chokehold minutes ago. Your mind just runs with ideas of fucking her senseless.
“They’re going to think we planned it all along. But no; what they don’t know is that it was by chance. That Eunbi asked for it suddenly, and you gave in. You gave her creampie after cream—”
Well, you could say that you’re easily convinced.
Eunbi’s prone when you switch positions, quickly taking back your lost power and pinning her back down. You press her legs together and push them down; she peeks from behind them, thrilled to see what you would do after she successfully riled you up. Obviously, you don’t give it to her just yet; you set your cock on her splayed pussy lips and start to grind down on her. 
“Thirsty brat,” you tell her. You tighten your squeeze on her ankles so she remains still while you hump her, but never really giving her the real thing. Groan; even without penetrating her, she feels wet and hot. “When did pretty become such a bad girl?”
Her clit throbs and you do, too. Why are you lying to yourself and acting like you don’t want to dick her down? 
“Bred, bred, bred. Need to be bred.” Eunbi’s lower body rolls. She’s panting. “Need to feel your big cock inside me.”
Fuck, you’re gonna give in anyway. You say: “What’s the magic word?” 
Eunbi swallows. You think you’ve seen that before. She was underneath you that time, too. “Please, daddy.”
The magic word is “please,” but if she says your favorite name with that, there’s a hundred percent chance she’ll get what she wants. She increases the chances with her downturned little mouth and her hands folded together. You don’t know if you should cuddle or fuck her. That’s your daily dilemma with Kwon Eunbi.
“Ahhh, so big!” 
Her shout of pleasure is instant, and it continues with the rhythm of your pumps. You don’t bother creating a buildup—it’s her birthday; she’ll get what she wants. And you know that Eunbi likes it rough and hard. Don’t mind the bruises and spots of red on her skin and ass; it’s what she craves more than anything.
You do, too. But this experience is more gratifying because you actually get to stay inside her hole when you cum. Your seed would go straight to her womb, and everyone would know that it’s you who made her pregnant. Moan at that concept which gives strength to your muscles to keep pushing, keep thrusting, keep bringing you to orgasm so your wife, who you’d do anything for, would get what she wants.
You make sure each thrust you inflict on Eunbi’s fertile body hits her cervix, a prophecy of what’s to come. She groans helplessly—her knuckles turn white as they grip the fabric beneath her that’s sure to be stained with both of your juices. Who cares, though? It would be a constant reminder of the night you made Eunbi’s birthday wish come true. It would be a memory of what brought your future child into the world.
“I want it deep, daddy!” gasps Eunbi. “So deep that I can’t feel anything, daddy, harder, please!”
She knows the power in her begging and how easily you fold for a girl like her. You’d give her another spanking for that, but you give her a punishment she benefits from anyway: rougher thrusts that slap your balls to her spanked ass.
But she’s the birthday girl. So you fulfill her desire and drive yourself into her core until your balls aren’t just slapping her ass anymore but are pressed firmly to her crotch.
“Oh yes! Just like that!” Eunbi levitates her back off the creaking cushions and screams. You’re starting to fear she’ll wake Yujin. Good thing she sleeps like a log. “Pound me, cum inside me!”
It seems like there’s degrees of roughness you haven’t reached yet. Your thrusts grow in speed and harshness as time goes by, and the strength is limitless. Although you’re only doing the same thing which is fucking Eunbi in hopes of breeding her, your tempo doesn’t stay the same. It hits her with a force impelled by lust, pushing the sins deeper inside her that it starts to corrupt her, too.
Your balls are heavy with an impending load. Slapping her thighs, you momentarily part them so you could rub her clit side to side, the way you know she’s weak for. Eunbi’s expression changes into bliss to paradise itself—her tightness chokes your length from head to base.
"God fuck!" Eunbi lets out a spray of wetness as her body thrusts upwards. "Cumming!"
Oh she’s cumming alright, but she’s also squirting. There’s no time to weep over not putting a towel beneath her; you’re stuck watching Eunbi’s pussy become soppier while it releases a messy jet of girl cum. You marvel at how more comes out if you give it to her harder.
Ever the crybaby even in sex, tears start to fall down in little droplets down her red cheeks. They source from all three: pleasure, pain, overstimulation. It’s destroying her and yet she relishes each hit.  
“Do it now, please, it’s too much! Breed me now—c-can’t—take—it!”
Shove yourself to the depths of her and unload. Your wife exhales repeatedly. There’s so much of your sticky load that it overflows inside her hole and creams her outer lips. Push yourself further and pull her legs up so it’s all guaranteed to go to her womb.
“Like this, pretty? Your pussy’s gonna take every drop, right?” Even in your craze of lust you could hear yourself weakening.
The cum that shoots into her never seems to stop.
“Yes, so much,” Eunbi moans quietly. Her arms are limp beside her. As her consciousness dies, her orgasm lives on. “Breed me, daddy, ohhh… breed me… breed… me…”
-
Yujin’s thick black hair, all inherited from her mother, looks perfect today. What makes it more satisfying is that those braids running down her head and the cute pigtails were fixed by you. 
“Wow, it’s so perfect!” Your daughter admires herself in the vanity mirror and grins up at you. “Thank you, papa!”
Her young yet advanced vocabulary makes you chuckle. As you hear it, you realize you can’t wait until she grows up and starts to talk even more beautifully, like the words she takes from the books you always see her nose buried in.
It’s 7:00 AM, and Yujin’s bus is about to come to the driveway. You’re lucky to have finished fixing her hair on time. That’s partly why you reciprocate the smile. The main reason is that your daughter manages to chip away your tiredness and make it all worth it.
“Of course, Yujin,” you say. “Be good at school, okay?”
“I always am, papa!”
Your daughter always carries this confidence wherever she goes. You’re glad you and Eunbi raised her properly so she isn’t doubtful of herself. She’s going places—the girl’s only six yet she speaks and multiplies better than you can. Not that you’re embarrassed; it makes you more proud of her.
“And behave for your mommy, okay? It’s—”
“—her birthday!” she finishes giddily. Yujin never forgets anything, especially birthdays. She just celebrated hers a month ago. “Can I greet her?”
Pause. Has Eunbi recovered or is she laying there getting off to what happened? “Maybe later?” you say, hoping not to sound suspicious. “Mommy’s… just having a sleep-in day. Just make her a card or write her a poem when you come back home.”
“Okay!” Yujin replies. She turns her head to the yellow bus peeking at the semi-circular window of the door. “Bye, papa!”
You tell her the same. Wave goodbye to her. You make sure she gets on the bus before turning away. Time to attend to your other princess.
Usually, you’d spend time admiring your house as you walk to wherever you need to go. You’re proud of the bookshelves and design, but today is a day different from all the others. You only have one clear vision the moment you open the door of your room with your wife.
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She’s sound asleep. Her little body’s curled up under the comforter and her head is nestled in the hood of the zipperless jacket you changed her into the night before. She looks so adorable in it that you want to just take her into your arms and bite her cheeks. You have strange instincts when it comes to seeing your wife, who could switch between being a sexbomb to a girl you’d protect any time of the day.
Unlike Yujin, she’s a light sleeper, for she catches your footsteps seconds before you crash down into the mattress with her. 
“Daddy?” she asks sleepily. She reaches for you. You catch her hand.
“Too early for that, isn’t it?” You smile into her hair anyway. “Good morning, pretty. Happy birthday.”
The nickname isn’t sexual anymore. It’s a pet name now, a call for you to take care of her. And you do your duty well, gathering her into your touch and keeping her protected from the cold.
Eunbi says her thank you, then blinks.“Y-Yujin, she still has to dress—”
“I took care of it.” You gently guide her back down in your arms. “She's on the bus.”
The panic dissolves from her face. She turns around to hug you back. All she says is contained in a little whisper: “Thank you, daddy.”
She throws a knee over your hip and ushers you to herself. As expected, to be honest. Eunbi loves all forms of affection, especially the physical kind. So you give her all of it: a kiss, a tighter embrace, a touch that wanders but not too far. Like you said, it’s too early.
Eunbi hums into your neck. “I’m so happy.”
“Yeah?” 
“Mhm. You make me happy.”
“You just want to get bred again,” you joke. Kiss away the pouty look on her face. “I’m kidding. You make me happy, too, pretty.”
What you say is nothing short of the truth. Eunbi fills your life with purpose. You wake up and keep doing so to make sure she has someone. You work so she’s well provided for, even if she has her own job herself. You come home so that the nights aren’t lonely. You know a lot of men who couldn’t say the same about their relationship with their wives.
You’re happy to be the different one for once. You’ll always love Eunbi. Even after you die, you’d be looking out for her, if there ever is an afterlife.
“You and Yujin are the most important people to me,” you tell her. 
“Well, after you bred me…” Eunbi smiles slyly. “There’ll be another important person in your life, daddy.” A pause. “Maybe we’ll name them Wonyoung?”
You shrug. You don’t know. But then you’re overcome by the urge to kiss her. You act on it, pecking her. It turns into something deeper, and soon you’re on top of her again, rendering her whining once more.
As you kiss Eunbi, you realize that there’s no sure path to the future. But all you know is that you’ll stay with her along the way, and that you’re excited for all the good things to come.
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1K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 3 months
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Can I request a fic based on these thought ❤️Aaron would 100% be the kind of dad that would spend all night building a barbie house or dolls house and would also very willingly sit and play barbie’s with his daughters.
well worth it
YOU'RE SO RIGHT THAT'S TOO CUTE cw; girl dad!aaron, bau!fem!reader, fluff <3
growing impatient and nearly beginning to doze off without him, you exited your bedroom in search of aaron. you've waited all day to be cozied up with him, and you simply couldn't wait any longer.
you've been comfortably waiting for over an hour; having gone through your full night routine, getting into bed, reading a few chapters of your current read. aaron even came in to change into his pajamas at one point, but trailed out again.
"hey you," you peeked your head into the living room, finding aaron laying stomach-down on the plush carpet. "you coming to bed? it's getting late."
"in a minute." aaron mumbled gently in response, his voice vaguely muffled into whatever it was he had in front of him. "as soon as i finish up here."
you ventured further into the room in curiosity, the closer proximity allowing you to see your daughter's new dollhouse set before him.
your nose crinkled lightly in amusement, a small smile forming on your face. and as if aaron could sense it - he peered up at you, a matching smile on his own lips as he saw your tickled expression, his brown eyes aglow.
"i promised i would have it ready in the morning." aaron admitted with a soft chuckle as he sat up, you scrambling down on the carpet to join him. "it's done, there's just so many damn stickers that have to be in certain spots." he grabbed the instruction pamphlet, studying it for a moment. "wallpaper for every room, that was a pain. things like a bath rug for the bathroom. even some go on the furniture - they're tiny, tiny stickers..."
as he trailed on and on, listing all the details, you fell quiet the more you followed along to his words, your eyes analyzing his face in slight astonishment.
"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly again, his eyebrows furrowing quizzically as he tossed the pamphlet aside, the paper creating a fluttering sound as it fell. he grasped onto the sticker sheet once more, his lips drawing into a frustrated line as he struggled to peel one off - his large hands all to blame.
"it still surprises me out of nowhere sometimes, despite how much time has passed." you shook your head slightly in content, swiping the sheet from his hands. you easily removed the sticker, handing it to him. "you're listing off the necessities for a dollhouse. for our daughter. there was a time where the most i heard you talk was while giving a profile, and just, here we are now. i dunno, does that make sense?"
"completely." aaron agreed as his smile retook form on his face, placing the sticker where it belonged. "happens to me every day. how lucky i am to have you. never thought i'd be dad to another, yet alone a girl dad at that."
"it suits you." you grinned, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "want some help? anything to get you to bed sooner."
aaron looked at the instructions again, a soft hum leaving his mouth as he thought. "again, it's pretty much finished foundation wise. but if you wanna start setting the furniture inside, be my guest darling."
side by side, the two of you worked together, rather giddily at that. quiet quips, playful comments how your own home could use these and whatnot (aaron groaned at your suggestion of wallpaper). warm but soft laughter, to prevent waking up jack and your little girl. you continued to help aaron peel the stickers as needed, and he, the notorious stickler, double checked you were putting items in the correct places 'according to the instructions'. you both knew once your daughter had her hands on her dollhouse, would nothing remain where it belonged, but that didn't stop him from teasing you; "did you put it in the-" "aaron, yes!"
finally, once in bed with aaron at your backside this time, one of his arms draped securely around your waist, you fell asleep with the heartwarming thought that your daughter's very first request in the morning - after her initial excitement - would be for aaron to play dolls with her. and of course, would he comply (just for a bit, and as long as she finished breakfast first). five minutes would surely turn into ten, fifteen, twenty depending on how early she awoke.
such brought up the potential risk of aaron being late to work, but if it allowed just a few more smiles to come from baby girl, it was well worth it.
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rachalixie · 9 months
Text
forgive me for what i haven't done
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summary: you arrive at your enemy's kingdom under the guise of making peace. the prince being nice to you wasn't part of the plan.
genre: strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort
warnings: she/her reader, reader's father is emotionally manipulative and physically harms her, mentions of violence
word count: 17.5k
a/n: absolute massive thank you to @sulfurcosmos, @isilentprincess, and @woahfruity for reading this through and giving me your honest feedback. i truly appreciate you <3 this fic has sent me through the five stages of grief.
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you can’t ignore the bruising grip your father has on your arm as he walks you to the steps of the large palace. the journey here was a mere two hours, but it feels like this palace was built out of another world altogether. it’s shorter than your own, absent are the dull reaching peaks and towers of your home, traded for warm bricks covered in snaking ivy and the shining sun peeking through powdery clouds. where it lacks in height, it makes up for in its expanse. the building was wider than any you’ve ever seen. 
it was more beautiful than any building you’ve ever seen, too. 
you hope your nerves don’t show as you throw one last glance back at the carriage you arrived in; it would soon take away your handmaidens that had made the journey with you, and you wouldn’t see them again until you went home. it makes your heart ache that the only people you felt comfortable with were leaving you behind. you try and focus on the present instead, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would get you nowhere. you had hours of meeting strangers ahead of you, making polite small talk with them and learning whatever information you could about the royal family until you could go to bed and be upset in private. you weren’t here for pleasure anyways, your father had reminded you as the carriage had pulled in. you were here for a reason.
the first person you make eyes with is the king, a kind looking man, hair and beard speckled with gray and a soft smile on his face as he takes in his visitors. he had invited you and your father here, a gesture of goodwill, an unspoken plea for peace between your two kingdoms. 
“they want peace,” your father had scoffed, throwing the letter from the neighboring king to his desk. you watched as it slid off and fluttered to the floor. “the scum that killed your grandfather want peace, and they dare ask me to negotiate a treaty with them.”
“well,” you started, swallowing down your nerves like you did every time you spoke to your father. since your mother passed, all those years ago, you had taken over the role of his confidant, like he did with her. though, he never listened to your advice when you gave it; you were simply a body for him to talk at, to pour out his grief and frustration out on. “did the king not overthrow his own father? he is not the man that hurt our family, and i assume neither are his sons. can we not let the past stay in the past?”
the two kingdoms are small - a unity between you would open opportunities for new trading, allies in battle, new paths to resources that your people don’t see.
“their bloodline is rotten,” he says, definitive. “i would be doing the world a service by ridding it of their pitiful existence.”
his words of extremity did not surprise you; he spoke of all of the neighboring kingdoms in this way. he was not one for alliances, keeping the borders of his territory locked to outsiders, deeming them not fit to enter his kingdom. you can barely remember a time when foreigners or immigrants inhabited the now barren lands.
“and the people in their kingdom?” you question. “they are truly innocent. will they be given refuge here once their kingdom has fallen?”
“i do not care!” he spits out at you, eyes burning in anger, and you shrink back a little. “they will burn along with their miserable rulers. i will find a way to take them down, all of them, to make them pay for what they did to my family. and you, gods help me, will do as i say.”
and you would. in truth, you had barely even considered going against him. you were alone, you had no options other than following through with his wishes, no escape from him and his cruelty. you had nowhere to go that he would not find you. and yet, he remained vexed as he moved closer to you, speaking quietly in a manner that was more terrifying than if he was yelling at you. his fingers curl around your upper arm, like a warning-
“welcome,” the king’s voice breaks you out of your memory, and you muster up a smile for him. “thank you for making the journey here. and please, call me stephen. you are esteemed guests here, no need for formalities.”
your father doesn’t offer the same notion back, nodding coldly at your side. king stephen furrows his brow for a moment, and it’s clear on his face that he’s caught off guard. so expressive for a royal, you muse as he shakes his head and the smile returns to his face.
“my sons,” stephen gestures to the boys standing by his side, the ones you had yet to lay your eyes on. “crowned prince christopher, his betrothed, the lady roseanne, and our youngest, felix.”
betrothed? you did not know the older son was engaged. this complicates things. you can feel the anger coming off in waves from your father, and you place your hand on his forearm for a moment. not now, please, you mentally beg, and you almost sigh in relief when the tension leaves his body, turning your attention to the two royals in front of you.
the taller of the two dons a mop of curly hair under his circlet, cleanly pressed clothes shining with the royal blue of their family. a striking woman is at his side, an arm loosely curled around his. as he moves forward to greet your father, linking arms like the king had, your attention is drawn to the boy left standing alone. 
the shorter boy is what you can only describe as ethereal. his features are sharp in all the right places, smoothed out by soft planes and dips covered in starlight scattered freckles. his clothes are similar to that of his brother’s, but no crown adorns his head. 
he might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. it makes your knees weak. 
“i am felix,” he says, his voice deeper than you would expect from the gentle features of his face. he dips his head a bit, a sign of respect, as he takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. your voice is steady when you respond with your own name, and you’re glad for it. 
his attention is diverted when your father’s hand lands on your shoulder, his touch more gentle than it ever is whilst away from prying eyes. 
“my daughter, princess y/n,” he announces, a proud smug on his face when you shyly curtsey. he must think your timidness is a ploy to get their trust, and not as a result of the raging nervousness boiling under your skin. 
“it’s an honor to meet you, your highnesses,” you meet each of their eyes, looking for any sign of malice, but you find none.
“come inside, please,” the king beckons, and the circle of knights that had been flanking him move aside gracefully to make way to the tall archway leading inside the palace. you’re once again taken away by the beautiful architecture inside, melting candles lining the walls made of warm brick. “we will begin the peace talks tomorrow, spend the day settling from your journey.”
“we will go freshen up,” your father states, cutting your exploration short with a poorly concealed fake smile donning his face. you hope no one else can see through him the way you can. “and we will meet you for dinner?”
he doesn’t wait until the king answers before he pulls you off to a hallway, beckoning over a servant and barking at him to show you both to your chambers. you pray to the gods that your hosts see your father’s unorthodox behavior as a difference in customs, rather than rudeness. the servant looks flustered, eyes wide as he directs you to your adjoined chambers, and you almost feel bad for him. you’re sure he can tell when your father’s anger returns, getting stronger the further you walk from the royal family, and you keep your head bowed until the two of you are behind closed doors. 
he lets go of your arm harshly, almost throwing you off of him in his haste and if you weren’t so afraid you would remind him that he probably shouldn’t yell as you’re sure he was about to do.
“he is engaged?” he growls out, teeth gritted together in fury. “this was not in the intel that i was given. this does not fit into our plan!”
his plan was for you to woo the prince, get him to fall in love with you, and then to kill his father and take the throne. nevermind the extensive gaps that he didn’t care to think out, that you weren’t brave enough to tell him about. the thought of the prince not going along with the neighboring king taking over his kingdom never crossed his mind; it was either extreme hubris or immense stupidity on his part. perhaps it was both.
“will i have to marry him? the prince?” you asked, avoiding his eyes. you kept your voice as leveled as you could, but you couldn’t completely mask the apprehension you were feeling.
“you will do whatever is necessary to gain his trust. if the boy proposes, you will accept.” he said, clinical and cold like he wasn’t gambling with your life. if your father was correct, these men were murderers, men who killed others in cold blood. what would the prince do if he discovered your father’s plan? how long was he expecting you to keep up this charade?
“control yourself,” he says when he takes in the tears pricking at your eyes, the wobbling of your lips as the gravity of his words sink in. “those of our class do not weep so easily.”
“what do we do now?” you ask, regretting it almost immediately when his anger turns towards you. you had wished, foolishly so, that he may forget this revenge-fueled nonsense and let you go home. 
“i do not know, stupid girl. why do you not think of something instead of having me do everything for you?” you pray that no servants were listening in through the door, and no knights were making their patrol past the hallway. with how loud he’s speaking, there would be no hiding his ill intentions. “i thank the gods you were born a woman and i can marry you off. with how useless you are, there would be no helping my kingdom with you as a ruler.”
the words sting, your heart aches at the cold insult he’s thrown at you, but it’s not the first time he’s said something like this. it’s at the tip of your tongue to tell him that this wasn’t even your plan, that you didn’t want to betray this kingdom in the first place, that you’re tired of being his pawn in a game only he wants to play. you want to tell him that you would be a better ruler than he is if given the chance, that you almost hope for the day that he keels over and dies because you would be free of him. but you’ve learned to hold your tongue in times like this, knowing that he only says these things out of frustration; flashes of the kind man he used to be when you were younger play through your mind, calming you down as you scramble for some kind of answer. 
“i will go after the younger one,” you start, a half-baked plan forming in your head. “if king stephen and christopher are out of the way, he is next in line for the throne, is he not? we just have a couple more people to get out of the way. befriend the king, distract him and make him trust you. i will handle the prince.”
you disappointed yourself by expecting some kind of verbal affirmation, some kind of praise for doing something right, but all you get from your father is a curt nod and a gesture to leave his chambers.
a nod was better than nothing. a nod was silent assurance that you were doing something right, that he was wrong about you. that you could think for yourself. 
when you enter the hallway, you catch a glimpse of the servant from earlier peeking around the corridor. you smile at him, hoping that he had heard nothing and that your face didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions clouding around in your head. he simply smiles back, foxy eyes crinkling and he nods at you before disappearing. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
dinner was an incredibly awkward affair; all throughout the meal, you couldn’t avoid meeting eyes with felix from where he was sitting across from you, and you flushed and looked away every time. his eyes were striking, soft browns highlighted with specks of gold reflected from the candlelight. this was the boy you were supposed to woo and manipulate, and you couldn’t even meet his eyes. gods help you.
you weren’t sure if your hosts could sense the concealed hostility in your father’s voice, but you could. he was doing a poor job of hiding his apathy, answering king stephen’s questions with short words or grunts. he eyed his food with judgment and took hesitant bites, even though you thought it was exceptionally made.
even the banquet hall itself was remarkable, banners of blue and gold hanging from the tall ceilings and plants of various kinds lining the walls. light shone down from the high windows, bathing the royals in front of you in a golden light.
“is the food not to your liking?” king stephen asked, a small frown gracing his features when he saw your father’s mostly full plate. 
“this is amazing, like nothing i have ever tasted before,” you voiced, directing the attention to yourself. your own plate was nearly scraped clean, and you might have licked it to savor the flavors if you didn’t have your royal dignity to uphold. 
your heart pounded in your chest from addressing the king so directly. 
“good, i am glad,” stephen smiled warmly at you, quelling your nerves, and his smile reached his eyes in a way your father’s hadn’t for years. “i shall make sure to send your compliments to our main cook, he was worried that the meal would not suit our guests’ tastes.”
“minho worries too much,” christopher laughs, meeting eyes with his fiancée. the way he looks at her sends warmth up your spine, like you’re witnessing kindling sparkling into a burning flame. “his cooking is the best in the entire kingdom.”
it might have turned you off that he was boasting like that if it wasn’t about someone whose status was below his. a crowned prince, giving compliments like that to a palace worker? kitchen staff, at that? it was different, for sure. 
the thought stuck with you for the rest of the night, even as your head hit your pillow at night. though you weren’t so naive to think that first impressions were indicative of their entire nature, it seems that the image of this royal family that your father painted for you might have been more skewed than you initially thought.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
while your father spent the next day with king stephen and their advisors, beginning the process of drafting and scrapping and rewriting peace treaties that you knew would never come to fruition, you were left to your own devices. venturing out of your chambers where you were bound to run into strangers was unsettling, but you pushed the feeling aside as you got dressed.
your father no doubt assumed you were jumping right into spending time gaining felix’ trust, but you didn’t know how to approach the younger prince to fulfill your part of the deal. you didn’t even know how to find him, or who to ask for his whereabouts; the sheltered walls of your home did not provide many opportunities for you to practice talking to people. 
the people here did not seem to have the same problem. wherever you turned, visiting nobles and palace staff sent you smiles, casual how are you’s and i hope you slept well’s handed out to you like spare change. it made your head spin, and the desire to retreat back into your chambers was strong.
you found your way outside instead, through an archway made of brown stone. the fresh air often helped you think. 
your casual walk allowed you to take in details that you couldn’t when you first arrived. the trees and greenery surrounding the palace were things you did not get at home, the forever winter killing off any color you longed to see. crops and livestock were held miles from the palace, outside of the reach of your vision and the invisible leash your father had kept you on, but here they thrived under the midday sun. you had a horse that you called your own, but you were only allowed to use him to travel to nearby towns on the outskirts of the palace property, right outside of the strong walls that surrounded it. none of the villagers there spoke to you past cold formalities, no matter how hard you tried, so eventually you gave up, settling for spending your time inside the castle.
here you found that you simply had to step outside of the palace walls to feel the soft grass beneath your feet, to smell the earth under your nose, to drink in the vibrant pinks and purples of the flowers in the gardens. there were so many trees, tall and strong with no walls blocking your vision of the soft foliage. you found a quiet bench under a tree, leaves and twigs decorating it’s surface from disuse, and you decided to call it your own despite having no ownership of any part of these grounds. 
no ownership yet, if your father had anything to do about it. 
you sat there for hours, drinking in the scenery as the sun made it’s path across the clear sky. you had expected boredom to creep around the edges of your mind, but it never came. the tranquility was so addictive that you found yourself back there, on that same bench, the next morning. and the next, your feet carrying you there before you were even fully awake.
“penny for your thoughts?” a deep voice disrupts your peace on that third day as a slender body sits on the bench next to you, just close enough that the warmth of his body touches your skin. you’re equal parts relieved and distressed when you see that it’s felix, and you smile at him in greeting, hoping that it didn’t come out as a grimace. this time when you meet his eyes, you make an effort to not look away.
“i do not get to see things such as this at home,” you wave your hand towards the garden, towards the birds chirping and the gentle sound of a stream bubbling. “it is beautiful. serene, you know?”
you don’t know how to act around him, and you certainly didn’t expect him to approach you. your words came out awkward, sounding unpracticed and superficial, and you try and hold back a flush from taking over your face. you hoped it wasn’t outstandingly clear how uncomfortable you were in his presence. do better than that, your father’s voice rings in your head.
“i agree,” he turns away from you, drinking in the picture-perfect view in front of you. “i am very lucky to call this place my home. what is yours like?”
“gray,” you deadpan, and the responding laugh he grants you makes your heart skip. better.
“there must be something beautiful there, it cannot just be you, right?” he says, a playful smirk tugging his lips upwards. 
“flattery will get you nowhere, my prince,” you shoot back, enjoying the moment of quick banter between the two of you before your words turned sober. “when my mother was alive, she would paint the hallways and the walls of our chambers with beautiful flowers and vines and clouds. the flowers were my favorite part, she painted them in such beautiful shades of purples and yellows. most of them have been painted over, but the ones in my chambers remain. those are my favorite part of the castle, the most beautiful things i have ever seen.” 
“i would love to see it one day,” he says, adamant and genuine as he takes your hand in his to squeeze it once before letting it go.
“maybe you could visit?” you look up at him through your lashes, a fake gesture to toy with him that left you feeling staticky and wrong. it was a complete lie - you would never subject this beautiful boy to the somberness of your home, lest it dull his brightness. even though he might not have a home soon, you push away the thought.
“only if it means i can see more of you, and not having you hide away,” he says, pointedly, though his face shows no malice. 
“it is overwhelming, for me,” you explain, embarrassed at having been caught. “to be surrounded by strangers.”
“yes,” his eyes are far away for a moment, his head deep in thought. “i understand.”
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
the next morning you had only just left your chambers, planning for another day exploring the greenery around the palace, when you spot felix leaning against the wall opposite of the door. he approaches you with a warm smile and takes your hand, his skin soft under your fingertips. how long had he been waiting there for you?
“my lady,” he bows his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips to press a kiss there, as he had done when you first arrived. “would you care for a walk around the palace? it would be my honor to be your escort for the day.”
“if you ask so nicely,” you smile back, humor seeping into your voice naturally. “how can i refuse?”
“excellent,” his smile widens and he holds an arm out for you to take. “i’ll take you to meet my friends! that way, you will have friends here, too, instead of strangers.”
his friends, you thought, would be nobles and lords and other members of high class that you would have to make fake pleasantries with. while his gesture was sweet, you had no interest making relations with the elite members of this court, the ones whose lives you were planning on upending. the last thing you expected was for him to take you straight to the kitchens, down winding hallways and corridors, marked by the ever increasing aroma of delicious baked goods and mouthwatering herbs.
“minho!” felix exclaims, bouncing on his heels excitedly, catching the attention of a man who was frowning deeply at a pot bubbling over a fire. “this is y/n, i am taking her around the castle today. y/n, this is minho, the king of our kitchens, and a dear friend of mine.”
the way he introduced you, so casually, was perplexing; no one had ever spoken your name without princess or lady preceding it. even more so was his casual use of king when talking about someone of lower class, a term that should be solely reserved for his father. 
“hello, my lady,” minho looks up, his lips turning up into a graceful smile, slightly crooked teeth peeking through his lips. his hair curls around his ears a bit, dainty jewelry adorning his lobes, and his features look almost sculpted in perfection. he’s absolutely beautiful.
“is everyone in your kingdom this pretty?” you blurt out, forgetting yourself, and minho barks into laughter. felix’s hand moves to lay on your arm, right at the crook of your elbow, and if it wasn’t for the amused smile on his face you may have thought you upset him.
“you are one to talk, my lady,” minho says, delight on his face that quickly morphs into exasperation as the pot he was monitoring earlier begins to bubble over.
“careful, min,” felix drawls out, his fingers curling further into your arm. almost possessively. interesting. “she is our guest, not someone for you to flirt with.”
“alright, your royal highness,” minho says distractedly, stirring vigorously. “now stop distracting me, unless you want raw meat and vegetables for dinner tonight.” 
felix grins in response, shooting a wave at the cook before leading you to a door in the back of the kitchens. it follows outside to a set of fields you hadn’t laid eyes on before, a cobblestone path winding through it like a river.
“so, do you think i am pretty too?” he teases as he leads you down the path, towards a set of men - knights - sparring in the midday sun. “or is that reserved for minho?”
“well-” you laugh, startled at his boldness. “i will not lie, you certainly are beautiful. but do not let it get to your head.”
“well as you said, flattery gets you nowhere, my lady,” he laughs too, and the two of you break all composure as you lean into each other. it’s almost too easy to be casual with him, too natural to break the carefully taught formalities that were drilled into you. you thought it might be a challenge, or awkward at the minimum, to get close to the prince, but you’re finding it to be quite an enjoyable experience thus far.
as you approach the knights, sweaty and panting from the exertion of their practice, you point out two men stand out from the rest, wearing armor with the royal colors showing proudly rather than the simple silver of the other knights. they held themselves with grace, power exuding off of them almost effortlessly, and they spark your interest.
“changbin and jisung,” felix points them out. “chris’ most trusted knights, and our friends. i pray for you if you ever get into a poker match with those two, they’ll cheat you out of every coin in your purse, the rascals.”
his voice is fond as his words are teasing, a juxtaposition that fascinates you. you don’t think you can recall a time where someone has used an insult as a term of endearment as he had just done. you lock this away in the back of your mind to ponder on later as you take in the two knights in front of you. the shorter one is clearly fond of exercise, if the muscles that even his heavy armor can’t hide is any clue. his hair is as dark as a raven’s feathers, curling from sweat, and his face is kind. the one next to him is slimmer, but no less strong. his face is round, cheeks swelling from the gummy smile he’s wearing, and his eyes are so pretty. 
“felix!” the more muscular one, changbin as felix had pointed out, beams at the man beside you. “care to join? your moves must be getting rusty with all the sitting around you royals do.”
felix sends a glare to changbin, no heat behind the gesture, and him and jisung laugh in response. 
“i have company, you scoundrels,” felix complains, almost in a whine. “could you not just boast about my prowess on the battlefield? you had to make me look bad?”
“please, lix,” jisung teases before turning his attention to you. “he may not be the most powerful warrior, but he is quick. the most agile swordwork i have seen, probably. it is like he is dancing with his opponent.”
felix flushes, shy under the compliments of his knights, his friends. 
“hyunjin and seungmin must be around here somewhere,” felix muses as he walks you down the corridor lined with knights, back inside and down a hallway you haven’t seen before. “this is where mine and chris’ chambers are. hyunjin is chris’s personal secretary, and seungmin is mine. though, i would consider him more of a menace than anything else.” 
his voice is lined with fondness again, like the way he spoke about minho and changbin and jisung. it’s the same manner as how he talks about his father and his brother, his family. it was like they were all his kin, regardless of blood.
“you are on a first name basis with the staff here?” you ask after a lull of silence, curiosity winning over your hesitance. your own handmaidens did not address you by name, the women who were your closest companions since you were young girls. you had never even thought to grant them the privilege of doing so.
“we treat everyone with the same respect, regardless of status or bloodline,” he says, words sounding a little colder than usual. 
“do not misunderstand,” you quickly correct, not wanting to offend him. because you want him to trust you, your mind supplies. not because you want him to like you. “i think it admirable. it is…different, to how things are in my kingdom. i am simply not used to it. i would prefer it this way, if i had the choice.”
it wasn’t a complete lie; you were searching for words that would win him your favor, but it surprised you how naturally they came to you. 
“do you not?” he furrows his brow, looking at you in confusion. whatever iciness he had before had melted into befuddlement, like he genuinely didn’t understand. “have a choice, i mean.”
you don’t know how to tell him you don’t have many choices at all. 
the silence takes over the both of you again, less comfortable than before, but he remains quiet as if he can sense the thoughts whirling inside of your head. it’s only when you reach the limits of the palace property that you’re thrown out of your mind, glancing at him with unspoken question.
“i thought we could take a stroll through the lower towns to end our day,” he explains, no signs of lingering animosity from your previous conversation. “it is my favorite place to go to get away from the palace once in a while.”
the lower towns, like most things in this kingdom, were not what you had expected. there were children playing in the streets, laughing and screaming while their parents watched on in exasperation. markets lined the cobblestones you walked on, selling vibrant fabrics and jewelry, freshly baked goods and crisp produce, and a variety of trinkets that overwhelmed you in the best way, patrons were striking bargains for products on every corner, trading goods for coin, a smile on each face you encountered.
it was a good distinction from the towns you were used to, where knights patrolled to ensure nothing was amiss. people there lived in fear, not in joy. everywhere you turned, people smiled at the prince beside you, and he would wave back or offer a small nod, ever polite. the few times you had managed to sneak into the lower towns to buy paints and canvas or trinkets as gifts for your handmaidens, you had gone in a thick cloak that covered your face lest you be recognized. here, walking around in your day dress, you felt almost naked. 
a child runs up to felix and wraps his small arms around his legs, bouncing excitedly on his heels.
“prince lixie!” he squeals, and felix leans down to ruffle his hair, a large smile on his face. it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “is that a princess?”
it takes you a moment to realize that the child is asking about you. you don’t interact with children much, your father would never allow them to touch you like the boy is with felix.
“yes, she is,” felix whispers, like he’s sharing a secret. “a very beautiful princess. why don’t you say hello?”
“hello,” the boy turns shy, peeking his head out from behind felix’ leg. the child, you found, could be forgiven for his lack of decorum when addressing you. he had a lot to learn at his young age. “i am joshua.”
“hi, little one,” you say, a little awkward as felix’ eyes are trained on you. “i am y/n.” 
you were at loss for words, but the few words you managed to give had the boy practically beaming at you in response. you watch as felix tells him to return to his friends, because you and him were on official palace business, and the boy nods sagely before scampering off.
“sorry about him,” he says once lucas is out of sight. “i have been visiting him in the village since he was very little. i have taken a liking to him, naughty as he is. he is the son of one of the merchants here, and he lost his mother years ago. i see myself in him.” 
“he is precious,” you take his arm again as he continues down the path. “i always wanted to visit the children in the orphanages at home, but i-” you cut yourself off, a habit you’ve taken to since arriving here. i need to learn to think before speaking. “i have not gotten the chance.”
“the children here are lovely,” he says. “i like learning from them. they keep me humble, remind me that not everyone is born with such privilege.”
he says it so simply, as if it’s his right to question such things; a man born into royalty surely has no business spending time with lower-class children, learning from them. it is one thing to offer them a coin, something that the kingdom could clearly spare. but what could they possibly teach him that his well-respected tutors could not?
you didn’t bring it up, afraid that he would react the same way he had earlier, when you questioned his informality with his staff. afraid that maybe, he would react in anger, though you couldn’t quite imagine the perfect lines of his face twisted into anything but peace.
before the two of you leave, he stops at one of the many stands selling an array of sparking jewelry and scarves, and he asks you if you would like anything. you want to say yes, the handmade twists of metal and dyed fabrics captivating you, but you shyly shake your head. 
you almost miss his forlorn expression when you refuse, turning away from the stand. it’s better this way, to not receive gifts from him. there will be nothing in your possession to remember him by, then.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
as felix drops you off at your door in the evening, the day comes crashing down on you - he’s so kind. everyone here is, from the royal family to the staff and the people living in the villages outside the gates. throughout the entire day you spent with felix, you did not once think about why you were here, simply enjoying his company and learning about him, not the secrets you were tasked with uncovering. 
it’s given you a lot to think about.
as he leaves, he runs a gentle hand down your arm from your shoulder to your wrist, squeezing gently before walking away. even his strides are made in lovely, even steps that makes him look other-worldly.
you lean against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and it’s then that a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye captures your attention. 
a servant is standing just down the hallway opposite from the one felix disappeared into, the same servant who had walked you to your chambers the very first day. the first person here who had smiled at you for no reason other than to be kind.
“hello,” you call out softly, beckoning him closer to you; you don’t know who looks more nervous out of the two of you as he approaches you with uncertain steps. “what is your name?”
“jeongin, my lady,” he almost whispers, hesitant, wide eyes trained on you. 
“nice to meet you, jeongin,” your lips tug upwards. he’s adorable. 
“we have met before,” he blurts out, smacking his hands over his mouth. “i am sorry, i spoke out of turn. i just meant…” 
he trails off, looking down shyly. 
“meant what, jeongin?” you ask, sure to keep your voice light and free of demand despite the curiosity starting to burn in you. what did he mean, you’ve met before? surely, he means within the palace earlier that week, right?
“i used to live in your kingdom,” he admits, his fingers playing with them hem of his tunic. “when i was younger. my mother was a servant in your castle.”
“really?” you gasp, understanding and puzzlement taking over simultaneously. 
“yes, but i left when i was still young,” he explains. “i remember you, though. you were always kind. i admired you for that.”
“thank you, jeongin,” you manage to force out, knowing that you did not deserve his kind words, even as informal as they were given. he was wrong; you were just as wicked as the rest of the nobles in your court. perhaps you were simply better at hiding it.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
your father pulls you into an empty corridor near your chambers the next day, his strength harsh enough to make you stumble over your feet.
“what have you learned,” he speaks in hushed tones, scared of being overheard. it’s more of a demand than a question, as if he simply expected you to have what he needs after such little time.
“i spent the entire day with him yesterday,” you start, choosing your words carefully, lest he discover that you’re actually enjoying yourself here. “he took me around the castle, and i have an idea of the layout, in the case that we need to make a hasty exit.”
“anything else?” he pushes, leaning further into your space. 
“they are…unusually fond of their staff here,” you divulge, more reluctant to give up this information. “they might be of use.”
“good girl,” his smirk is like frost, and he reaches out to cup your cheek. a gesture that, to others, may have seemed paternal, protective. though his touch sends an unpleasant shiver up your spine, his words satisfy some sick satisfaction within you - the need for his approval was met.
“your mother would be proud.”
as he walks away, it makes you queasy how those words make you straighten up, proud. pleased. living in the echo of your mother’s footsteps for so long made you doubtful that you would ever be able to fill them, but maybe this was a start.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you see felix later, walking to the banquet hall with another boy dressed in simple clothes. they pause by the entrance, deep in conversation, and you duck behind a pillar, out of their sight. you’re just close enough to hear snippets of their conversation, when their voices raise from their hushed whispers. they must not want to be overheard, you realize, straining your ears harder. this was your chance to gather some kind useful information for your father.
you close your eyes and listen, picking up puzzle pieces of she’s sick and time off and you’ve almost completed the puzzle when it hits you - though any conversation they might have had was not meant for you to hear, this one in particular felt like a breach of privacy. not of felix’ but of the boy standing before him. 
his secretary, seungmin, that he had spoken about the previous day. the boy who, as you had just learned, had a sick mother, and was requesting some time away to care for her. as you peek around the pillar, you see felix rest a hand on his shoulder, leaning close to the boy before pulling him in for a gentle hug. 
he’s friends with his staff, and he touches them so casually? this didn’t fit. it fit nothing of the way you were brought up, formality and proprietary trained into you, and it fit nothing of the picture your father had painted of the royals that ruled over this kingdom. it seems that with every observation, instead of answers you were left with more and more questions. 
“what are you doing?” a voice sounds from behind you, too close, and you nearly jump. 
“what?” you breathe out, turning to see jeongin standing behind you, eyes wide.
“you were just standing there with your eyes closed,” he explains. “is everything okay?”
“my lady,” you correct, the words leaving your mouth as if it had a mind of its own. “is everything okay, my lady.”
“oh,” he says, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth. “apologies, my lady. there is no such need for formalities here, i had forgotten.”
“it is alright,” you assure, watching as he relaxes and lets out a breath. 
“just, a word of advice?” he says, continuing before you could tell him that no, you didn’t want nor need his advice. “if you are going to be here for some time, you should try and adapt. not to overstep, my lady, you just might find yourself more comfortable if you relax a bit.”
he walks away with a smile, and you’re left alone to reflect on his words. he did overstep, but it does not mean he didn’t give you something useful. adapt, he had said, and perhaps he had a point. felix seemed to be more open with you when you were agreeable, when you didn’t question his strange impropriety. 
maybe becoming one of them, even through a facade, was the key to unlocking whatever you needed to find.
he arrives at your door as the sun was setting, light knocks accompanied by a call of your name that you almost couldn’t hear. you call out softly for him to enter, a delighted smile taking over your face when you see what he has grasped in his hand, held out in offering.
a beautiful bouquet of flowers, wrapped in creamy tulle. the petals were a vibrant purple, highlighted by sharp yellows and soft whites towards their center. they were violas, your mother’s favorite flower. 
you hadn’t seen one since she had passed. your father had forbade anyone from growing them on his lands.
“how did you know?” you gasp, smiling at him brightly as you take them from him. you move them closer to your face, and if you were alone you might bury your face into them, savoring their powdery sweet smell. “that these were my favorite flower?”
“you told me,” he says, ears turning pink under your attention. “that your mother painted your room in purple flowers. i just guessed, but from your reaction i hope i got it right?”
how had he remembered such a small detail that you had given him, when you knew little to nothing about him?
“oh, felix, they’re perfect. you remembered such a small thing?”
“there are a lot of things i wish to know about you,” he confesses. 
“likewise,” you smile at him. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
smoke, creeping through the gap between the floor and the wooden door, rising in curling pillars towards you. snaking around your neck, entering your throat and your nostrils, burning your lungs to ash. you scramble for the doorknob, but the moment your fingers hit it you’re snatching your hand back - it’s icy hot, unable to touch. 
there is no escape.
the windows - covered by royal blue curtains, catch fire from below, and you throw them back. you need air, something to clear out your crumbling lungs, but when you look outside the city is on fire. red-hot flames lick up the side of the palace, trees turned barren and flowers burned to a crisp. 
in the center you can see felix, flames surrounding him but not touching. he’s whispering something, and you cry out that you can’t hear him. speak louder, please, you beg. help me.
“this is your fault,” he speaks, his voice right in your ear, but when you turn towards it, it’s not felix next to you. it’s your father.
his hand slides around your waist, pulling you close to him, embracing you. 
“good work,” he says, proud smile on his face as the both of you watch the city fall to the flames. “i knew you could do it.”
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
since the younger prince had taken you on a tour of the castle, you’ve seen him every day. sometimes he would greet you at breakfast, disappearing afterwards only for him to show up at your door later to ask you on a walk around the grounds. other times he would be waiting for you outside your chambers when you woke up with a basket of fresh pasties baked by minho for you to enjoy together, and he would watch in delight as you savored the flavors. on rarer days, you would only see him in passing while he was between duties, but he would stop to press a kiss to the back of your hand, every time. 
you played along with him, accepting his flirting and responding in turn. it came instinctively, and you often forgot that you were meant to be luring him into a false companionship, not a real one. he was alluring, smart with a fragment of recklessness, soft with sharp edges, a perfect balance of everything. 
as the days passed, he would get bolder. his touches lingered for longer, the searing heat of his hand pressing on your arm, your shoulder, on the small of your back. his kisses moved from your hands to your cheeks and your temples, to the crown of your head, and it left you aching for more. he didn’t hold back his compliments, reflecting not only on how beautiful he found you but also how thought you were clever, intelligent, good-natured. you never thought those things about yourself, but something in the way he said it made you think they were true.
in the times that you weren’t with felix, you spent time with jeongin. the boy was as sweet as he looked, the the more time you spent together, the more his shyness melted away to reveal sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. you found your own walls dropping around him too, his easy companionship making it difficult to remain closed off to him. he reminded you of the home of your childhood, the one that you missed fiercely, and you were grateful to have him by your side. he kept you humble, holding you accountable for the way you acted, even though a spark of fear remained within him any time he spoke his mind in that regard. you managed to hold back your annoyance at his remarks, and soon you found that it simply faded out of reach. you became fast friends, almost too quickly, evidenced by the way he would raise his eyebrows at you when he saw you with felix, like he could see right through you.
you were lucky that your attraction to the prince was all that he could see through. the weight of your impending betrayal was like a shackle on your ankle, following you wherever you went, impossible to truly forget about. while you had yet to learn anything about the royal family that could serve as a benefit to your father, you saw your relationship with felix as a betrayal in it’s own right. if you were better, you would leave him alone - you would leave this kingdom entirely, and refuse to play any part in their downfall. but you couldn’t physically stay away.
you couldn’t stop from filing away small bits of information that might serve to be useful, either. the prince’s brother’s favorite meal, in case the opportunity to poison him came along. his father’s daily schedule, told to you by felix freely when you had asked, your fingertip running down his arm from his shoulder to his wrist. the likely areas where secrets may have been hidden, restricted to you and glossed over by felix when he would walk with you around the castle. you hated it, categorizing this information into handy little parcels that you would deliver to your father.
a welcome distraction came in the form of the very thing you should be avoiding; on a few occasions, felix had christopher and his betrothed, roseanne, accompany the two of you on whatever excursion he had planned for that day. 
a simple picnic in the garden, juicy fruits picked just that morning and fresh baked bread and crumbly cheeses to snack on while the four of you talked. conversation came easy with chris and roseanne, once you broke out of the too familiar anxiety that surrounded you when with new people. felix’s warmth from where he was settled next to you, allowing you to lean into him, helped more than you wanted to tell him. chris was so similar to his brother, sharing his kindness and his humor, though his jokes were cheesier than felix’ dry sarcasm. roseanne was lovely, someone who you could see as a close friend under different circumstances. 
a on a visit to the lower towns, just as lively as it was the first time you went. it was then that you officially met hyunjin and seungmin, the prince’s assistants. the way they bickered with one another, and their royal counterparts, made you laugh so hard that your stomach ached with it. even they were striking, and it left you wondering whether one’s disposition on the inside reflected their beauty on the outside. 
your friendly chatter continued into mealtimes, where the kings would join you, the very few times where you would get to see king stephen at all. he bantered with his children, asking them about their days and their plans for the next ones, acted like a father instead of a king with them. it sent a pang of longing through you - your father had been like that, before. you don’t think he remembered how to be a father, anymore.
as much as you loved the prince’s company, you hated the approving nods you would get from your father whenever he saw you and felix together. the acknowledgement that you craved for just weeks ago felt near futile now - he didn’t see that instead of making the prince fall for you, the opposite was taking place. he didn’t see the genuine connection between the two of you, the way you craved for him, the way nothing else seemed to matter when he was in front of you. he didn’t care about your heart, about how it would likely break beyond compare when he he was finished here. he didn’t care about you. 
the you that was falling for felix. for his compassion, for his gentle nature, for his quick wit and effortless beauty. for the way he treated those around him, for the way he spoke to you like you were more than a pawn in a cruel game of chess. it made you sick to your stomach to think about what was to come, what you hopelessly wished you could avoid. you find yourself wishing, not for the first time, that you and your father were truly here seeking peace. that you could imagine a future here without guilt gnawing at your chest.
the closer you grow to felix, the stronger the gnawing feeling in your stomach becomes. but you can’t stay away from him, even if you tried; the sparking light in his eyes drew you in and you were helpless to his magnetic pull. the way he would beckon you over with his hand, palm facing upright as if waiting to join with your own, left you no choice but to go to him. you knew you were selfish, spending time with him out of your own desires while doing nothing to warn him of what was to come and making no actions to follow through with your father’s wishes. you knew your time here, living in peace, was running short, the last dribbles of sand slipping down an hourglass.
and yet, when he finally pulled you into an empty alcove and held you close so that he could press his lips gently to yours, you let him. you responded in kind, moving together with him like some kind of dance. 
when he invited you into his chambers and into his bed, you didn’t say no. even then, when he gave you all of himself, you took it. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
fire, this time contained in a ring of wooden slats, smoke curling up into the night sky. felix, by your side, you tucked into his side while the two of you claim it’s warmth for your own.
“why?” felix says, running a hand up and down your arm. you hum, snuggling further into him when a breeze makes it way to you through the trees surrounding you.
“why what?” you ask, voice syrupy sweet.
“why did you do it?” he turns towards you, the flames still visible in his eyes. he glances over your shoulder pointedly before turning back to the campfire, pulling you into him again. you look behind you, and a firestorm meets your vision. you can barely make out the outline of the beautiful palace through the inferno, but a figure stands out in the center of it. you move closer, the heat threatening to scorch your skin, to see your father strapped to stake. burning. dying.
you turn back towards felix, question dying on your lips when he’s not there. a sick feeling enters your stomach as your gaze returns to the fire, and where your father was is felix in his place.
you let out a horrid scream.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
waking up to the sight of felix, blonde hair illuminated by the morning light like a halo around his head, was something you think you could never get used to. even if you were allowed this under better circumstances, if the two of you had fallen together after meeting at a ball or a diplomatic meeting, his beauty was something that you truly could not comprehend. 
you have half a mind to scold both him and yourself for breaking proprietary, for falling into bed with one another out of wedlock, as parts of two separate kingdoms that have yet to establish ties. you don’t, though; you were as much at fault as he was, and you had enjoyed it too much to ruin it for either of you. you do not acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up inside of you from your dishonesty, or the remainder of fear that lingered from your dream. looking at felix while he slept seemed like a much better way to spend your time.
he is equal parts pretty and cute when he mumbles, smacking his lips together as his eyelids flutter, holding onto the last pieces of sleep he can. when his brown eyes peek through his eyelashes and land on you, you can see the smile in his gaze.
“morning,” his deep voice rumbles, and he pulls you close to him by the waist. you land almost on top of him, his movement making you lose your balance from where you were perched on your elbow watching him, and you both let out breathless laughter at your undignified flailing. you settle against him, his chest pillowing your head while you trace senseless patterns into whatever patches of skin you can find.
you can still feel the phantom touches that he had imprinted on you the night before, as he held you more gently than anyone ever had. you can feel the silky smooth strands of his hair under your fingers, the ghost of his breath panting against your neck. you can hear the sweet sounds you pulled out of him over and over. 
“penny for your thoughts?” he asks, just as he did when he met you in the gardens the very first time. 
“mm,” you sound, not wanting to break the peaceful silence the two of you were basking in. “just thinking about my mother.” 
“oh,” his face drops in sadness. not in pity, but in compassion. in empathy, for of all people he would understand; he lost his mother, too. “can i ask how she passed?”
a refusal is at the tip of your tongue, as it is when anyone asks about your mother, but it fizzles out when you look at him. you found yourself wanting to talk about this with him.
“she was sick,” you start, early memories of your childhood filtering into your head. “since i can remember, she was sick. it took over her body slowly, it took years for her to succumb to being bedridden. she would paint for hours and hours, back then, until she collapsed. but then, it took over her mind too. that was the worst part, her forgetting who my father was, who i was, forgetting who she was. when she passed, it was almost a relief, i could not stand to see her in that state of pain anymore. i was twelve, when it happened.”
“i am sorry,” his voice is deep, thick with sadness. “that sounds like something a child should never have to go through.”
“what about…” you trail off, not wanting to make it sound like the two of you were trading secrets like giggling children. 
“she was murdered by bandits, in the lower towns, just a few years ago,” he answered your unfinished question. “she went further than she was supposed to go from the castle grounds, and she always refused to bring knights with her. my father blames himself, and i blamed him for a long time too. but it was not his fault.”
“i am sorry, too,” you place your hand on his cheek, hoping the weight of your caress would surpass the lack of words you offered him. 
“as strange as it is to say, i-” he cuts off for a second, letting out a strangled laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “i am glad that you understand. it is hard telling these things to people that have not experienced that kind of pain.”
you don’t think it’s strange at all. it settles something within you, the part of you that had felt so alone for years. for all of his charms, it was this display of raw honesty that transformed what you had thought to be superficial attraction into something more, something deeper.
“i feel the same,” you close your eyes, trying to tamper the nausea that arose at those words. you’re going to take his father from him too, your back-stabbing mind informs you. and his brother, you don’t deserve his comfort. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
your father calls for you that morning, sending a note to your chambers. you only see it when you finally get out of felix’ bed and make it to your own to freshen up, a smile present on your face that you can’t help. 
every step you take towards your father’s chambers feels more and more like you’re signing your death wish, and the sound of his door opening several moments after you knock on it sounds like cannon-fire in your head.
“you asked for me?” you move closer to the desk where he had sat, and from your position you could see messy piles of paper with words that had been angrily scrawled on them. 
“i have asked you for many things,” he starts, voice dripping with condescension. “but it is good to see that you can manage to follow simple orders.”
his passive aggression makes your blood boil; after weeks of being treated so kindly by your hosts, your patience was wearing thin in the face of your father.
“i am trying to earn their trust fully,” you try to reason. “it is taking longer than expected.”
“and sharing a bed with him is not enough? whoring yourself out to them has not given you the opportunity to find out what you need?” his words were almost enough to make your skin catch fire. how did he possibly know what you and felix had done? “complete what i have asked of you, now. the faster we finish this, the quicker we can leave this horrid place.”
leave this place, and go back to what? an empty castle where you are disrespected, forgotten, ignored? a place with no life, no joy, no laughter? you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but you were certain that going back was not a favorable outcome.
“i’m not a servant that you can bark orders to,” you bit out, regretting it almost instantly when he stood up so fast that his chair fell to the floor behind him. 
“watch your mouth,” he growls, stalking towards you, and you take a few steps back from him. “it seems that the only thing you’ve learned from the insolent brats here is how to be weak. how to disrespect your king, the one who has clothed you and fed you since you were born.”
your king, he said. not your father. 
he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back, back, back until you’re up against the door, his grip strong enough that you knew would leave behind a ring of bruises. you wish you could deem this unfamiliar, but the sensation of feeling pain caused by his hands was not uncommon.
“i am growing tired of your excuses. you think they care about you? they would kill you in an instant if they knew what you have been hiding.” he moves closer, until his face is inches from yours and you cannot look anywhere but at him. “if you know what is good for you, you will stop this insolence and do as i say.”
when he removes his grip from you, your knees give out, and you brace yourself against the doorframe to keep from falling. he returns to his desk, not sparing you a glance as you leave his chambers and close the door behind you.
you don’t notice the frightened frame that had been standing outside the door through the tears clouding your vision.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you’re sitting at the fireplace in your chambers when you hear your door open, jeongin slipping in and closing it quietly behind him. he settles himself next to you, taking in your haggard appearance.
“your father is not here to make peace, is he?” he asks, his voice quiet and free of judgment. like he was confirming what he was already known to be true, not making an accusation.
“no,” you answer simply, too exhausted to try and lie to him. your friend. maybe the first real one you’ve ever had.
“you are helping him.” he says, letting a crumb of distress loose into his voice.
“yes.”
“you have come here under the illest of intentions, gained our trust,” he starts, calm. quiet.
“i know,” you sigh.
“you are going to hurt a lot of people.“
“i know.”
“you are going to do it, even though you do not want to.”
“i know, jeongin!” you snap, feeling guilty when he jumps a little.
“it’s just,” he’s playing with his fingers, a tell of his nerves. “i remember what it was like, at home. before, and then after. when things changed, when people became meaner. more cold, and closed off. that is why we left, and came here. don not make us go through that again.”
“i am sorry,” you whisper, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach at his words. all you can offer him is an empty apology, useless as it is.
“i had hoped that you would be different. that you would stay true to who you were, or who i thought you to be.” he’s looking into the fire, not blinking as if mesmerized. as if he’s trying to dissociate from this moment in a way you wish you could. “when i saw you here, you still had it. that light, from before.”
“i do not want to do it, innie,” you choke out, echoing his words while your eyes burned. “i do not know what to do. i never wanted this, i hate it.”
“i know,” he says. “i can see it. in everything you do, your hesitation, the way you hold yourself back. but you do not understand.”
“understand what?” you’re exhausted, you don’t have it in yourself to be frustrated at him.
“that you have a choice,” he says, as if it was a simple thing. “that you can choose to end this, choose to do what you know is right.”
“i am scared,” you wobble out.
“being scared is good,” he finally breaks away from the fire, but the light in his eyes burns just as bright when he looks at you. “it makes you genuine. that is what makes you different from him. but you do not have to let that stop you.”
“i do not know how,” you whisper, voice barely carrying over to him. 
“figure it out,” he says, just as quiet. “or i will do something, that you will not like. i will not let you harm my friends, no matter who you are.”
he leaves you then, slipping out of the chambers as quietly as he had come in, leaving you to your thoughts and what felt like a never ending stream of silent tears flowing from your eyes.
the next morning, you hand jeongin a note to give to hyunjin for christopher. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
the sun had been set for hours when you wrap a scarf around your neck to hind the greenish blue splotches forming around your neck and secure the buckles on your boots. you hadn’t seen felix all day, but you knew that if he asked you to spend the night with him that you wouldn’t be able to follow through with what you were about to to.
your cloak shrouds your face from anyone who might be awake as you quickly make your way through the gardens, to the bench that you often inhabited. christopher is already waiting there for you, a grim look on his face.
“why did you ask me here, my lady?” he asks, clearly confused. 
“please, i need you to listen to me,” your voice is hushed, like you’re scared of anyone hearing despite the hour of day and the concealed location you had chosen.”i am going to tell you things that you will not like, but i need you to listen until the end.” 
“are you alright?” he looks concerned at how desperate you sound, but you shake your head. now isn’t the time for him to worry about you.
you tell him everything. the things your father had said about his family, the plan he had concocted before even stepping foot in this kingdom, the way his demands have been increasing from your lack of progress. the way you had changed as a result of being around the people here, that you didn’t wish to play in your father’s game any longer. you watch as his face morphs from surprise to anger to betrayal and back again, a cycle of emotions that might be comical under any other circumstance. 
there were many ways you could have done this; telling the king for one, but this would open the chance of him ending your life along with your father. trying again to reason with your him, making it clear that you weren’t going to comply with his demands, but you could never see him compromising his mission. there was one single thing that you had thought of that had a chance of succeeding, with your head still attached to your body.
you end your speech with a demand, simple as it is, and that’s when he shows disbelief.
“you want me to kill your father?” he asks, incredulous. 
“i may have loved him once,” you admit, voice thick with emotion. “but not anymore. he is not my father anymore, he is a tyrant. there is not a single soul in the kingdoms that would benefit from him being alive.”
“how do i know i can trust you?” he raises a cool brow, indifference masking whatever he was truly feeling underneath. “what if this is part of your plot?”
“you do not have time to consider my legitimacy!” you cry out, desperate. “i have tried to delay him, to think of some way out of this. he is getting angrier by the day and i fear that he will do something without thinking, something bad, and soon.”
“why not just leave then?” he asks, as if giving you a test. for all it was worth, it was a test that you wanted to pass. “why go through all of this when you could just get out, save yourself?”
“that would not be fair to my people, to leave them with him,” your words come out more passionate than you expected them to. “they deserve better than that. and it would not be fair to you, either. you have shown me more compassion than anyone has since my mother was alive. i will not repay that kindness by leaving like a coward.”
“has he hurt you?” the question catches you off guard, as does the concern filtering through his gaze. you bite your tongue; you want to answer, tell him yes, but that tiny, frightened version of you inside stops the words from coming out. you want to pull down your scarf, show him visible proof of the way your father treats you, but your hands feel like lead. he takes your silence as a confirmation though, nodding and cursing under his breath. 
“i will not kill him,” he says, and you open your mouth to beg, plead for him to listen, but he holds a hand out as he continues. “but i will keep my guard up. i will not take this lightly; my father’s life is in danger, and i will take every precaution while i gain information.”
you sigh through your nose, defeat making your body sag into the bench. this was your last chance; chris may as well have just sealed all of your fates.
“please understand,” he says, weary. “i cannot go to my father with accusations when i have no proof. i believe you, i just need evidence before i can act.”
“please, just,” you say as you stand, not wanting to ask him for another impossible task he might refuse. “do not tell felix? i cannot have him getting caught up in this. i do not want him hurt.”
“you care about him.” he states, as if he is already sure of your answer. 
“more than i thought possible,” you answer, and it is the truth.
“i cannot promise you that i will keep him in the dark. he is my brother,” he frowns. “we do not keep secrets from one another.”
“please,” it’s all you can say before you walk away, pulling your hood back over your face. you can only hope that he will listen to your plea. if not for your sake, but for felix’.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you should go to your own chambers, should stay away from felix until things were figured out, done and over. but your feet take you to his door instead of your own, and you’re inside his chambers before you can second-guess your stupid decision. you can tell he’s awake by his breathing, irregular and short, and it both pains and excites you that you are allowed to know things about him in that capacity.
“hi,” you keep your voice low, almost a purr as you climb into the bed and throw an arm around his curled up form. his nose scrunches and he wriggles a little bit, almost dislodging you, but you keep your grip strong. you don’t know when you will get this again. 
“you smell like outside,” he complains, his body going lax. “where were you? i missed you.”
“just checking on some things,” you mumble into his skin, your lips finding home on the back of his neck. “i am all yours now.”
“do you not have people to check on things for you?” he asks, opening his eyes finally and turning his head towards you. you’re glad for the lack of light that keeps him from really seeing you. seeing the stress pinching your brows together, and the guilty frown that you can’t get rid of. “i have told you, my staff are there at your disposal. for whatever you need.” 
“why trust others to do things i can do myself?” you quip back, the guilt of not telling him eating at you. you bury your face into his neck, hiding yourself, and the hand he tangles into your hair soothes you a bit. you feel tears welling up against your will and you let a shaky breath out into his honeyed skin.
“are you alright?” he tries to move your head up to look at you, but you refuse, shaking your head.
“i just really care about you, you know that right?” you admit, the last words you spoke to chris echoing in your head. “i didn’t expect to ever care about someone this much.”
“i care about you too,” confusion laces his words, and he runs a hand up and down your back. “are you sure you are alright?”
“i will be.”
so will he. you would make sure of it, somehow.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
felix is out of bed by the time you awaken the next morning, but it isn’t something unusual to wake up to cold sheets next to you. he is a prince, after all, and he can’t spend all hours of his day with you. if anything it’s better that he’s gone today; it will help you keep the distance that you failed to keep the night before.
you’re slow as you dress, the decision you made before you succumbed to sleep weighing heavily on your shoulders; you were going to speak to your father, for a final time. you were not going to give him a choice, you were going to rob him of the basic right that you he so often deprived you of. you were going to make him listen to you, for once.
but when you enter his chambers, he is absent from them. you try and dampen the dread creeping up your throat; surely, he wouldn’t act now? only a couple of days after you last spoke?
you approach his desk, looking for any sort of clue that might lead to his whereabouts, but what you find is worse than you’d imagined. pages upon pages of plans, detailed imagery of how he wanted to kill the king and his sons, how he wanted to enslave the people here, how he would take the resources here and let the land rot and decay, all scribbled down in near nonsensical sentences. 
stupid man, leaving these out for anyone to see. you swipe them off the table, folding them neatly and tucking them into the bodice of your dress where no one would find them, just as your father enters the chambers. your hand flies to your chest, covering up what you had just done, but your father must think it an act of surprise from his lack of acknowledgement.
“what are you doing here?” he asks, eyes narrowed on you. you hold your head up even when you want to cower before him. 
“the crowned prince knows of your betrayal,” you inform, watching as his eyes filled with anger. no fear, as you had expected.
“how,” he growls, making quick steps towards you and taking both of your arms in a harsh grip. his rings dig into your flesh, 
“i told him,” you say, surprised when the words come out clean and leveled and your head stays up high. “i will not help you any longer. the king will know soon, and you will be thrown in prison.”
it was an empty threat; you knew the king was still unaware of what was going on. 
“you would trade me for these people you barely know? the same people who killed your moth- your grandfather?” and it clicks into place. he made a mistake, he misspoke, and it showed the last of his cards that he had kept so carefully hidden from you. it’s clear now: he’s gone mad, searching for some kind of revenge, even if it is on the wrong people. he’s locked himself into some grief-fueled conspiracy, and you realize now that he’s truly lost to you. that he had been lost, for years now. 
“you are not fit to rule over anything,” you snarl. “you are not fit to be a father, you are not fit to do anything more than sit here and place blame on everyone but yourself!”
he doesn’t react for several moments, searching your face for something, before letting out a bark of laughter, eyes wild.
“you ungrateful, insolent, stupid girl,” he shakes you with every word, and your teeth rattle. “you think you can threaten me?” 
he raises a hand and the back of it strikes you across the cheek, metal catching on the delicate bone there. you fall to the ground, the force of it knocking you off balance, and when you raise a shaking hand to your burning skin it comes back flecked with blood. 
“get out of my sight,” he spits at you, stepping around your form as if you were a mere pest before him. “this changes nothing. your threats mean nothing, but heed mine. if you ever step foot in front of me again, i will have you hanged. from now on, you are not my daughter. you are nothing.”
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
the walk to your chambers feels longer than usual despite your hurried steps, and you can’t shake the feeling that something unfortunate was going to happen, soon. what did your father mean when he said that your warning changed nothing? did he not believe you?
you don’t dwell on his clear descent to madness for long; you curse yourself for not seeing the blatant signs of it earlier, his obsession and his misplaced fury, but you know that there are more pressing issues that need your attention. 
perhaps a further look at his aimless scribbling would give you some answers. either way, it was the proof you needed, the evidence chris claimed was necessary to have before approaching king stephen with your claims. you knew needed to act, and soon.  
when you find felix already in your chambers, his presence is enough to qualm the hurricane raging under your skin. it comes back full force, though, when you look at him and he’s angry. 
“when were you going to tell me,” he starts, voice ice cold like you’ve never heard it before. it terrified you. “that you were planning to kill my family?”
“what?” you gasp out, every nerve in your body freezing to stone. any urgency you were feeling regarding your father is wiped out, replaced with cold trepidation. chris told him.
“you came here to kill my father, to kill my brother and his love and to, to use me,” he grits out, voice trembling, and you can’t stand it.
“no, i-” you choke out, the words escaping you. you wanted to tell him everything, wanted to show him what you had found and bring the evidence to his father together, but you can’t get it out. “maybe at first, but no, not anymore-”
“not anymore?” he cries out, incredulous. “how can i trust anything you say to me? you’ve been lying to me since you got here, lying about everything, lying about caring for me-”
“no, felix, i love you,” the confession rips out of you and the timing couldn’t be worse. you wanted to tell him after, when things were not in the uncertain state they were in now. you wanted to give him the confession he deserved, something worthy of the man that he was. he shakes his head at your words, crystal tears forming in his eyes.
“you do not get to say that to me,” he bites out. “i do not even know who you are, you have been lying to me from the beginning, playing with me, you do not get to say that.”
“i did not want to,” you almost wail, the feeling in your knees giving out as you fall to his feet. the emotions that you haven’t been letting yourself feel were pouring out of you. “i did not want to, but he would have killed me, or married me off to some brute to get rid of me and i had no idea what to do.”
you want to shout, look at what he did to me, look at the evidence of what he would do to me, but you can’t. 
“stop. stop talking.” he drags you to your feet by the arm, grip harsh like he would rather do anything than be touching you right now. “get out of my chambers. i want you and your father out of my home, and if you do not leave i swear to the gods i will tell my father to have you hanged.”
you stumble towards his door, turning back to throw one last pleading glance at him, and you regret it as his next words cut you right to the core.
“they warned me about you, did you know that?” he’s no longer speaking out anger, but rather cold indifference. it’s worse, somehow. you wanted to ask who they were, but in the moment it truly didn’t matter. “they told me about your family, how vile you all are. how you would poison us from the inside. but when i laid eyes on you, i did not believe them. i know now, that i should have.”
your body remains frozen long after he leaves, and you don’t realize that your body has moved to your bed until jeongin peeks his head into the door.
“innie,” you choke out from where you’re laying over the covers. he rushes to your side, and his face falls when he sees the tears leaking from your eyes. 
“what happened?” he pushes your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers, so gentle that you can’t help but let out a sob. 
“felix,” you stutter out. “he hates me- he wants me gone. and i don’t blame him, i hate me, but innie, it hurts.”
you let jeongin pull you into his arms, tears leaking into his shirt, and even then your traitorous heart wishes it was felix holding you like this. the last thing you remember before sleep clouds your mind is jeongin whispering i’m sorry into your hair.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
fire, but this time it surrounds you. not burning, but encasing you in warmth, covering your body completely. it spreads, catching onto the surfaces around you.
it’s threatening to combust, taking you with it. you didn’t know what do to. flee? protect, your mind demands. so you run, past door after door, passing by people who beckon you inside. you can’t, you need to leave.
chris, asking you to come inside. minho, calling you in for a meal, fresh and fragrant. jeongin, asking you to join him, telling you he’s worried about you. 
felix, standing still as stone on his balcony. your father behind him, eyes dark as they narrow in on the prince. no.
you rush to them, gliding past felix, your flame sliding off his skin like water. you push your father away, your momentum carrying the both of you forward as the flames catch on his frame.
falling, falling, falling, off the balcony towards an endless pit of darkness. you look up and felix is watching, beautiful face twisted in anguish as he watches the two of you plummet.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you didn’t leave. despite felix’ warnings, you didn’t make any moves to flee the castle. you needed to see this through, needed to ensure that the people here were safe; the only way you would leave this palace is in the absence of your father’s company. if you were going to die, you would rather it be by stephen’s hands than by his.
you almost don’t leave your chambers, terror paralyzing you as you sit on your bed, waiting nervously for something to happen. whether it be news from christopher about his efforts or a group of knights ready to take you to the dungeons, your body itched for some action. you don’t leave for breakfast, and you don’t let jeongin in when he quietly brings you a meal and leaves it at your door. you pick at it, watching the morning sun rise into the sky and wishing you had a jug of wine to drown yourself in.
by midday, you had made up your mind; you were going to enter the king’s chambers, deliver him the information you had, and sneak away from the palace at night. where you would go, you did not know, but you knew that you were not welcome in either court anymore. you had ostracized yourself from your home and from the group of people here that you hoped to one day call your family. 
you had no one. and it was your own doing.
you push away the thought as you hurry through the familiar halls, stopping at one of the only doors you had yet to enter. the king wasn’t in his chambers, you discovered, when you spent several minutes knocking on the door to no avail. the council chambers were empty as well, and you felt your heart speed up as you raced through the halls, avoiding any person you saw. your boots clicked on the stone as you hastily entered and exited chambers and hallways, searching desperately for the king, hoping he was here somewhere. 
you find them in the banquet hall, a smile on stephen’s face as he signs a long document with a feathered quill. you’re not close enough to see what it is from you’re standing behind a column at the entrance to the hall, hiding your presence from them. your father moves to stand next to the king when he finishes, leaning in close as he takes the quill from him, and he raises his hand behind the king’s back. in his hand, sunlight glints off of a piece of metal in his hand - a knife,
you look around desperately for a knight to alert, but you find none. why are there no knights here? your stomach lodges itself into your throat as you stare at the two kings, frozen as your father readies the knife, poised to strike stephen right in the center of his back -
“no!” you cry, breaking away from the spot you were glued to as you run faster than thought was possible have towards them. your father turns towards your voice in shock, the knife slicing through the king’s side in a clean movement, and the king falls. 
“what are you doing?” your father snarls, the man by his feet forgotten as his attention turns to you. you spare stephen a glance, meeting his wide eyes, and you hope he can see the apology in yours. your father’s forward movement moves your attention to him, and you see him stalking towards you with his knife poised. “i am growing tired of your foolishness, you wretched girl.”
“if you want to kill someone, kill me. not him,” you plead, backing away from him. “he did not kill her, you know that. this, this delusion you are living under, it needs to stop!”
“do not speak of her to me,” you can see his anger rising, redness traveling up his neck. “you are a poor excuse of a woman compared to her. you know nothing. everything i have done, i have done for her, and i will kill you and the rest of them if i need to.”
you’ve heard your father recount his killing of countless adversaries, spoken in cold tones with no regret, but to see him with his weapon raised at you is something you had never imagined in all of your days. it was a truly terrifying sight.
he backs you into the same column you had been hiding behind earlier, a mirror image of the way he had cornered you in his bedchambers days ago. his free hand circles your neck, covering the bruises that he had left behind then, and your hands fly to his wrist.
“this will never free you,” you choke out, tears brimming in your eyes that make your vision blurry. this way, when you look at him, his features are so unfocused that he almost looks like he used to, when he was sane. kind. “do you not understand? this will not bring her back. you will be truly alone.”
“better to be alone than living with you as a reminder of what i have lost,” he says softly, the sharp blade of the knife pressed to your side, stinging as it nicks your skin. 
you close your eyes, resigned to your fate. this was how it was going to end, no matter what. you, suffering from the result of his hands, his jolted mind. you, a mere ghost of your mother, biding your time in this world until he decided that you had none left. living a life that would never truly be your own. 
no.
your eyes fly open and meet his and he hesitates, the knife pulling back the smallest bit. you take the chance, your hand moves from one of his wrists to the other and you twist, taking in a sharp breath when he gasps and lets the knife clatter to the floor. he lets go of your neck and you drop, grabbing the handle of the knife with a shaky hand and slashing upwards, hoping that it would land somewhere. 
he drops to the floor with a howl of pain, clutching at his thigh, and in the next moment you’re on top of him, pinning him to the floor with a knee to his stomach. the knife is still in your hand, unmoving from how strongly your fingers were grasped around the handle. it would be so easy to plunge it into his chest, so simple. you would finally be free. 
you barely register when several knights finally barge into the hall, swords pointed at the two of you. your focus was purely on the man under you, at the madness swimming in his eyes and the ugly curl of his mouth shaped in scowl. 
“you will not do it. you are weak,” he wheezes out, confident even as he struggles to speak from your weight on him.
you raise the knife. 
a moment of tense silence. 
and felix calls out your name. the only voice that could break you away from the trance you were in. his lovely voice, shaped in your name. 
when you meet his eyes you drop the knife, and you’re pushed away from your father when by knights who move to secure him in shackles. you stand on wobbly feet, taking in the hall - felix, hovering by your side, hands raised as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t. chris, standing by his father’s side, supporting him as he rises from the floor. blood drips down his side, but not an alarming amount. he would be fine. your own father, cursing angrily at the guards who were keeping him restrained, his words passing through you with no recognition.
you’re sure you looked horrible, in this moment. hair a mess, chest still heaving, clothes torn. you didn’t belong here. you drop your father’s papers that you kept hidden in your clothing to the ground, watching them flutter before settling, face up for all to see.
“i will leave at first light,” is the last thing you say before leaving the king, the princes, and your father behind you.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you didn’t look at your own reflection until the next morning. your face was a horrible painting of blues and blacks, and the bruises on your neck are fading into green, though you’re sure more were forming underneath them. 
you look horrible.
you didn’t come with many things, and most of them were unnecessary for where you were about to go; traveling into the woods didn’t require fancy dresses and jewelry, so as you packed your bag you left them behind. 
the last thing you expected was for felix to push the door to your chambers open, a noisier affair than you were used to from the way the door banged against the wall. 
“you are still here,” he breathes out, panting a bit like he ran here. he eyes the bag you were holding warily.
“i am,” you answer, fear seeping into your veins as he moves closer to you. not of him, never of him, but of the power he held over you. of the way his words could break your heart into more fractures than it already was in. 
“your father is in line for execution, at midday,” he informs, placing a hand on top of yours when he reaches you, his warm skin stinging the ice-cold skin of your own. 
“good,” it’s the only thing you can think to say. the only reaction you can muster from learning that your father was about to die, like you had wished him to.
“chris told me what you asked him to do,” he says, voice low. “i did not stay long enough to hear the whole story, when he told me the other day. i came to you in anger, and i did not listen to you either. i am sorry.”
his voice wobbles in sorrow, and it breaks your heart. 
“no, do not be,” you whisper, flipping your hand around so you could tangle your fingers with his. you wanted to feel him like this, at least one more time. “i should have been honest with you. when i chose to go against him, when i chose you, i should have told you.”
“you were scared,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “of him. and of us, i presume. i cannot fault you for that.”
“i was scared, but-” you cut yourself off, trying to find the right words. he waits for you patiently, eyes trained on your features. “since my mother died, my life has not been my own. i have not been allowed to make my own decisions, i don’t know how to…do this. that is no one’s fault but my own.”
“this?” he asks, velvet soft as he seeks for clarification. 
“to be honest about things. to trust people with what’s going on. to…not be scared of people’s reactions,” even this show of candor was sending your heart into a frenzied pace. “i do not know how.”
“then let me teach you,” you can hear the tears in his voice but you don’t look up to meet them. you didn’t think you could handle it. selfish. “please. i do not know what you are planning to do - after, but please do not leave.”
“felix, i have never felt more free than i have here, in this kingdom, with your people. with your family,” you squeeze your fingers around his hand, the only thing you could bring yourself to do. “with you. you have already taught me so much. how do i continue to take and take from you like this?” 
“you do not owe me anything,” he vows, bowing his head a bit. “anything i give to you, i give gladly. i act without thinking and i make rash decisions, too. do not think that i am not learning from you in turn. if it were not for jeongin finding me and explaining things to me yesterday, i would have done something horrid. i could have lost you, do you understand? you and i, we are not so different.”
jeongin. once this was all over, you were going to award that boy a house. or a village. whatever he wanted.
“did he do this to you?” he says when you don’t answer, raising one hand to the bruising around your neck and another to your cheek, feather-light fingertips tracing along the lines. “did he hurt you?”
“yes,” you breathe out, admitting for the first time to someone other than yourself what kind of man your father truly is. letting yourself accept that maybe, it was not your fault. that maybe, you deserved something better. 
you stayed.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
chris meets the two of you outside your chambers hours later, looking more exhausted than you’ve seen him before. he takes in your linked hands with a smile.
“felix told you?” he asks, gentle. you nod, leaning into felix. “i am sorry, that i did not do more. that it came to that.”
“do not apologize,” you say, resolute. “if anyone should be sorry, it is me. for putting you all through this.”
“if anyone needs to apologize, it is your father,” felix swears, his grip on your hand tightening. “if he was not already on his way, i would kill him myself for hurting you.”
you squeeze his hand back, hoping the gesture would bring him some comfort. violence was not a color that you think shaded felix often, but you couldn’t deny that his protectiveness was attractive.
it is chris’ duty to oversee the affair, but you cannot bring yourself to accompany him. the thought of seeing your father again, restrained and awaiting death, was not something that you wished to experience. 
felix stays with you, guiding you through the halls and into his bed, holding you tight the entire time. his presence by your side is overrides the myriad of negative emotions inside of you and for once, your mind is quiet, failing to remind you that you needing felix in this moment was self-serving. it’s as if the thoughts were dying along with your last-living relative.
you wished that you felt happy, relieved to be released from him. or even sorrow, full of grief for your lost father. but you felt nothing.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
chris enters felix’ chambers at dusk, waking you and felix from the sleep that neither of you intended to fall into. 
“my father wishes to see you,” he addresses to you, waiting with leveled patience as the two of you slowly rise from the bed.
“is he angry?” your voice comes out as a whisper, betraying your anxiety.
“yes, but not at you,” he assures, settling a hand on your shoulder, his touch light. “do not worry.”
but you did worry, all throughout the walk to the king’s advisory chambers to when you enter the door, startling him out of whatever hushed conversation he was engaged in with his staff. when he looks at you he is angry, and you’re glad in that moment for christopher’s warning. you moved with more confidence than you truly had, chris and felix’ presence at your sides helping more than you cared to admit. 
“you wanted to see me, sire?” you ask, your hands wringing together. felix takes one of them into his own, if only to stop your movements.
“i wanted to discuss things with you,” stephen waves off his advisors, waiting for them to leave the chambers before continuing. “regarding your father.”
“my father is dead,” you state plainly, moving forward until you were in front of the king. “i swear fealty to you, my lord.”
you slowly knelt at his feet, gasping in surprise when felix knelt by your side. 
“whatever i can do to prove my loyalty, i will do it,” you assured, keeping your head down. normally, you would internally bristle at the thought of kneeling before a king like this, in an act of submission, but this time it was different. this time, it was your choice. 
“you have proven your loyalty by going against your own kin, my child,” his voice was thick with emotion. “please, stand.”
you don’t, until felix does and pulls you along with him. you’re confused at his immediate acceptance of you, the daughter of a man who wished him such ill-will. you look at him and you’re sure he can see the puzzlement on your face.
“i did not ask for you here to make you prove yourself,” he explains, gesturing at the papers strewn about the table. your father’s notes. “i simply wished to thank you, for preventing such heinous acts from occurring. these notes…” he pauses, as if gathering his thoughts. “are unsettling. more were found in his chambers, detailing increasingly vicious flights of fancy.”
you would learn later that in your father’s notes were his plans for you, for once his own were executed. perhaps stephen felt pity for you as a result of what he saw. when you meet eyes with the king, any trace of anger is gone, replaced with a deep kind of sadness.
“thank you, for keeping my family safe at the sake of your own welfare. anything you wish for, i will grant it.” 
your mind screams at you that you don’t deserve it, that you had put them in more harm than anything, that he doesn’t owe you any kindness. 
“i wish for nothing that i do not already have,” you glance at felix, shooting him a small smile when you notice the pride gleaming on his face. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
it takes less of jumping through diplomatic hoops than you would have expected to sign your kingdom over to stephen. the lands were adjacent to one another, so rearranging property lines was as simple as removing a single line from a parchment map. you learned that it was more common than you had originally thought to combine kingdoms, though usually it resulted from acts of war. you were queen for all of two days before officially resigning.
your father, for all his boasting, did not carry many alliances with other nations, and the ones he did have stephen was glad to cut off. your father’s knights did little more than grumble about having to change their colors, and the ones that refused to were promptly dismissed from service.
the castle that was once your home was a different case; you never wished to go back there, other than to gather the things that still held your mother’s touch. that place hasn’t been a home to you in a while, but you decided that it could be a home to someone. 
it would take some time, but you had plans to turn the palace into an orphanage. a place where everyone and anyone could come and seek shelter, food and water, and company. it was the least you could do for your people, who had suffered under your blind eye for over a decade while you sat in your chambers, ignorant to all that was going on outside the palace walls.
the biggest relief was the weight of your kingdom off of your shoulders. maybe it was selfish to think that way, but you had never asked for that life. you knew your people were in better hands with stephen than they ever would have been with your bloodline, and you could think of no better successors than chris and roseanne. 
you had your ladies in waiting brought from your old palace, but they did little more than help you dress. jeongin had become your formal assistant, but you considered him a friend and a confidant more than anything. you had offered him and his family whatever he wanted, now that the riches your father held were in your name, but he had refused. he simply asked for a new house in the lower village for his parents and siblings, but stated that he wished to remain in the castle. 
you and felix decided to hold off on announcing a formal betrothal, deeming it wiser to let the kingdom that had nearly doubled in size settle first. you had not been together long, after all, and most of your time together was spent with you under a guise. you took the time to relearn each other, to memorize every miniscule detail of the other’s personality, your habits and your mannerisms and your preferences. despite your earlier reservations, propriety mattered little with the two of you; you spent even more time together than you did before, and you had all but moved into his chambers, only using yours when you wanted someplace quiet to think. 
you don’t remember a time when you were happier than you were now. for the first time in your life, you looked toward the future with brightness.  
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hellfire--cult · 9 months
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)
WC: 16.3k (dont say anything)
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, Stripper!Billy, Stripper!Steve, sensual dancing, smut (i won't spoil it)
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: You have a date, but it doesn't go as you thought it would. Friends are always there to bring a smile to your face, and Eddie gets the reason of why the date went wrong, ending with him helping you in a very special way.
A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took! But it's finally here, and it's long, and I hope it's up to everyone's expectations! I am happy I got so much response on this fic, from people I admire, as well as to all of you who decided to start reading it. Thank you!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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PART 5
Your breath was heavy as you stared up at the ceiling with a sheen of sweat over your forehead. 
You almost never did this, but lately there was a need for it like never before. You didn’t even know what you were imagining, or who you were picturing, but you never felt so carnal before, so needy, and it all started since you kissed Eddie. It was as if there was a switch inside of you, and he just turned it on, and now it’s unstoppable.
When was the last time you actually had sex? It had to be over two years now, because that’s the last relationship you had with a man. You could handle it for two months only. You always went for the same kind. Introverts. Rarely go out, probably gamers that spend their nights and days on the computer, so it was a win win for you. You got to satisfy that primal part of you, and you barely had to see them.
And you don’t even enjoy it, or at least that’s what you think but now, for some reason, and out of nowhere you are craving for it. The only explanation for that is because you now know you can talk to people you find attractive and you might have a shot at it. Should you download those dating apps Robin uses? 
You look at the clock and realize you have just half an hour to prepare your coffee and get on the computer for work. Your eyes slightly widen and you sit up, almost throwing your vibrator to the ground.
“Shit!” You didn’t intend to touch yourself in the morning like this, but you awoke at 8 and for some reason you were restless. You didn’t know why, because you had actually touched yourself the day before, and two days before that. You were being insatiable and you don’t know how to stop it. 
But now, thanks to that, you were rushing out of bed to put on a nice shirt but keeping your pajama bottoms on, just in case you have a meeting today, and try to wake yourself up in the bathroom, washing your face as quick as possible, and brushing your hair. You put some mascara on, and rushed out of the bathroom to finally start your pot of coffee. You walked towards your desk that was in a corner of your living room, and opened up your laptop, ready to log on to work.
When you finally had your cup of coffee and you were working away on the computer, you could finally relax. You put on some jazz music just to fill the background with something as you worked the day away. You had some lunch, making a quick tuna salad to fill your stomach as you looked at your phone, scrolling on instagram.
You had a message from Eddie, and when you opened it, it was a video of a horse where the owner asks if he is going to be a good boy today, and the horse simply turns, farts on the camera and runs away. You almost snorted out the water you were drinking, swallowing it quickly to start laughing at it, double tapping the video for a like.
It was friday, so maybe you can go to Eddie’s today, maybe hang out with the other guys if they’re available, invite Robin too. You were happy that she and Steve were getting along, and even if they insult each other on a daily basis, it was always in an endearing way. Almost. 
For over a month you’ve been over the moon with your new found friends, and also a panging sense of guilt filled your gut for not telling your other friends. You’ve gotten together with them, and you had to bite your tongue from your excitement whenever they said about going out at night but for your sake they decided to simply have dinner at a bar, or restaurant.
You went to Eddie’s messages, and you honestly believed that after your kiss everything would be awkward, but actually, you felt as if you two had gotten closer. The messages were more recurring, and now sometimes he messaged you good morning if he woke up early enough. This was not one of the times, so he must have worked till late last night.
You blushed as you thought about that, because there was a part of you that was intrigued if you would still faint at seeing them strip in front of you. When you remember that night, you don’t feel as flustered as you felt some weeks back. You knew you would be nervous, but it didn’t feel as gut wrenching as before.
You were about to say good afternoon to Eddie until a notification popped up in your laptop. You put the phone down to see who messaged you, seeing it was one of your coworkers asking for help with something. You read what he had been having troubles with and realized it’s not something you can help him with via text. Austin wasn’t a bad guy, and he almost never asked for your help, barely talked to him during meetings, which you were now putting your camera on unlike previous times.
So you decided you would open up a video call with a presentation to actually help him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but it was something you knew how to do. You fixed yourself a bit in front of the camera and took a deep breath in before calling him. It rang just three times and then he came into view, knocking your breath just a bit.
You saw him at the meetings a few times, but he always looked tidy, with his hair pulled back and a nice button up shirt on. Since you didn’t have any formal meetings today, he had decided to wear a casual black T-Shirt, and his blonde hair was a little messy, but it was casual messy. His eyes were greenish from what you could see, and unlike the times you’ve seen him, there was a beard on his face now.
In one word, Austin was gorgeous, and he made you straighten up on your chair a bit.
“Hey there, sorry to bother you with this, really.” He starts, rubbing his cheek in embarrassment. You shook your head and smiled softly into the camera.
“No, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything particularly important, so don’t worry about it.” He smiles back and gives you a nod. That gave you the que to start explaining to him, pulling the sharing screen feature to show him the practice of it as well. He asked a few questions of course, but you didn’t mind the interruption really, and you found yourself being able to talk without stuttering or stopping at any point. 
“So it was that easy… Look, or I’m a complete idiot for not understanding the manual or–”
“The manual is outdated Austin.” You giggled at him and he squinted slightly to the camera with a soft smile to his face as he looked at you.
“Hey, I think this is like… The first time I ever talked to you, apart from the meetings of course.” He says and that made you slightly nervous, but a good nervous, knowing he was engaging in conversation and that you actually felt like continuing it.
“Yeah, I am not the talkative kind–” You see him squinting intently into the camera and you tilt your head at him, wondering what he is looking at.
“Is that the collection of Harry Potter in your library?” He points and your eyes widen, looking behind you, the library on full display and the 7 books in chronological order and different sizes and colors must have given it away. You turn your head to look at him with a smile and nod.
“Yeah– Kind of obsessed with it really.” He smiles widely into the camera and puts his wrist up and you look into the screen to see a wand tattooed on his skin, making you widen your eyes with a surprised look on your face. “Holy shit.” He laughs at your cussing and you felt yourself blush for doing so, but he wasn’t showing signs of disgust or being uncomfortable at that.
“Same here, read the books since very little. I know there’s controversy now with it, but I can’t fight my childhood really.” He says and you know exactly what he is talking about, feeling the same way about it. You give him a nod, with a smile on your face and you bite your bottom lip with curiosity in your eyes.
“Yeah, I get that…” He squints slightly at you with a playful smile on his face as he scoots closer in the camera.
“You look like you have something to ask me.” You catch the way his face changed when talking to you from the beginning, letting the butterflies in your belly break loose. 
“I was going to ask you what house you’re in.” You ask and he thinks for a moment, and you widen your eyes because he wasn’t telling you right away.
“Mmm… I could tell you, or I could let you figure me out.” 
Oh.
Oh. He was flirting with you. 
Your heart was beating wildly now, not expecting the call to turn this way at all, and you were almost speechless at it. You have to be brave, a cute guy was openly flirting with you, a cute guy who is not Eddie, or Steve, or Billy! He is not helping you with anything, he is flirting with you because he wants to!
“And can you figure me out?” You ask back, tilting your head slightly and he smiled at the reciprocated flirting. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I mean, I think it would be easier in person… Maybe tonight, after work, like an after office kind of thing?” He asks you and you feel the beating of your heart in your throat, trying to settle your breathing down. He was asking you out, on a date, a date with a cute guy. What should you do? Should you say yes? No? But this is what you wanted, you have to remind yourself that this is why you asked for help in the first place.
“U-Um, sure! We can meet up somewhere?” You ask him and he gives you a nod with a smile to his face.
“Sounds great, put your phone down on the chat so I can message you later, because fucking Lorraine is blasting my notifications right now with something.” He rolled his eyes and you giggled at that, knowing how annoying that coworker is. You bit your lip as you went to his chat and typed in your cell phone number and he smiled at the camera once he received it.
“So, see you later I guess?” He gives you a nod and a small wave.
“See you later.” And like that the call ended.
You let out a sharp breath, like a loud huff, letting your lungs decompress because you couldn’t believe it. You were stunned, sitting at your desk, looking at the computer as if it were the most incredible thing you’ve seen in your life. 
You had a date.
You got yourself a date. By yourself. By being yourself and just you, no excessive make up was required. A wide smile spread on your lips as you squealed with flushed cheeks towards the ceiling. You would go out with a cute guy, finally. Your breath was heavy as your stomach bounced with nervousness, excitement, nausea, everything but you didn’t care. 
You grabbed your phone and unlocked it, and as soon as you saw where it was unlocked, you felt your stomach slightly drop. Eddie had sent you a good afternoon himself, with a tired smiley face. You bit your bottom lip, gulping as you wrote good afternoon back to him, and for some reason you didn’t want to tell him about this date.
You thought he would be the first person you would like to tell this to, but there was a feeling in the mouth of your stomach that didn’t let you. You really don’t know why, but you just felt uncomfortable telling him something like this. Why? Why would it be weird to tell him this? Your brain was trying to find a solution, but in the meantime, you changed from Eddie’s messages to Robin’s.
‘Come to my house, ASAP.’
And that’s all Robin Buckley needed to head upstairs with her work laptop in her arm, barging through your door. 
“This better be fucking goo–” 
“I have a date!” And Robin almost dropped her laptop to the floor at the news, looking at you with a completely stunned look on her face, features not even moving as you stared at her with widened eyes, waiting for her response. Suddenly, like getting hit by a brick, the realization dawned on you. “Oh… Oh shit, I have a date… I have a date Robin, what do I do?”
Your stomach started flipping over now that it all sank in. It happened way too fast, and out of nowhere, and now it was happening. In a few hours you would meet up with a cute guy and you didn’t know what to really do. What did you have to expect? Should you expect more than a kiss? Should you shave? Should you put on your lingerie or not? Do people do that on the first date? But you did want to feel good, so what is wrong with that? But wouldn’t it be desperate–
“Hang on!” You heard Robin yell and you realized you were pacing around the room, holding onto your head completely exasperated. You turned to look at her with a panicked look on your face and she quickly put the laptop on your counter and walked towards you, grabbing your hand to center you back to earth. “You’re going on a date?!” 
You quickly nod your head, feeling your cheeks burn as well as your entire body feeling like lava was being poured on you. Oh god, you were going with a stranger, well not a complete stranger, he’s been working in the same area for almost five months now, he looks tidy, his name is Austin, yeah, you can work with that, and he–
“He likes Harry Potter! He has a wand tattooed on his arm!” You say excitedly and now Robin knows exactly why you agreed so quickly. Nevertheless she jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands at you. She never thought she’d see the day you would go on a date, and much less with–
“Wait, wait… is he hot?” She asks and you nod wildly, going towards your work computer and putting up his work profile. He had a suit on with his hair moussed back but his features were the same. Robin’s eyes almost bulged out of her sockets as she looked at the man. “Holy fucking shit… From work!?”
“Y-Yeah… It’s not going to be a problem right? Oh… Oh there might be, what if it doesn’t work out Robin? I mean, what if I fuck it up, and I embarrass myself and he doesn’t want to talk to me–” 
“Then you two stay friends!” She immediately cut your rambling off, turning to look at you with a smile to her face. “Not every man is a douche bag, and if it doesn’t work out, it just doesn’t and you two go back to being coworkers, but THIS, is a big fucking step!” She says excitedly, making you smile to match her energy, despite the ongoing nervousness in your belly. 
“Yeah, I’m… a little excited too… Really nervous, but excited.” You say to her and she bites her bottom lip, grabbing her phone from her back pocket, looking for Steve’s contact, pressing the video call button, jumping up and down slightly.
“I can’t wait to tell Steve! I mean I bet you already told Eddie, so–”
“WAIT!” You yell but it was too late. You could hear the sound of the video call starting and your blood drained out of your body, and your stomach was turning all around. 
“Robin, what-sha wantsh?” You hear Steve mumble and Robin makes a disgusted face with a smile still on her face.
“Stop chewing your food like a camel, and listen to me. Guess who has a date tonight!” She says onto the screen and you wince when Steve doesn't respond at all. You weren’t looking at the screen so you didn’t know what his reaction was.
“You said we should all hang out today, and now you have a date?” He says and your ears perked up at that. Robin thought of the same thing you did this morning, warming your heart a little bit, and also feeling sad you won’t be able to join. Robin rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Not me Dingus.” She then, out of nowhere, turned the camera to face you this time, making your eyes go wide. “TA-DA!”
Steve’s eyes almost popped out at the surprise and he suddenly spat the cheerios he was eating. You had a disgusted look on your face and then heard a lot of noise from Steve’s side, cursing and stomping all around.
“Harrington, what the actual fuck!” You heard Billy yell and Steve was coughing non stop. Your face flushed, burnt even at the attention and then Steve tried talking, saying your name.
“She- She has a date tonight!” He yells and the next thing you heard was a pan dropping somewhere and Eddie suddenly came into view with his hair up in a ponytail, shirtless, and with his tattoos showing off. Your stomach flipped at the sight, making you step closer to the phone, grabbing onto it. 
Your eyes locked with Eddie’s as he too took the phone in his hands, snatching it from Steve, aggressively, and faced the camera to look at you. You weren’t about to faint, he could guess that much, and you didn’t really give off an excited vibe to it. 
“You’re going on a date tonight?” He asks and you are about to reply but you get cut off by Steve yelling in the background, as Eddie seems to rush upstairs towards his room.
“My phone Munson! Where are you–”
“Shut the fuck up Harrington, I’ll give it back!” Your eyes widened slightly at the anger you felt in his tone, as if he were having a bad day, but then his eyes turned to you and that anger was no longer there, but an emotion you couldn’t quite describe. “So?”
“U-Um… Yeah, I-I am going on a date tonight, with a coworker actually…” You were embarrassed and you didn’t know why. There was a feeling of pain in your chest, or a feeling of uneasiness in the center of your gut as you saw Eddie’s face contort slightly at the news, to then give you a small smirk.
“And? Do you find him, you know… attractive?” He asks, with a certain nervousness in his tone. He was feeling his chest slightly pressing into his lungs, as if air were about to be gone from them at any second. His fingertips were sweating as he held the phone to his face, looking at you intently, watching your reactions.
“I mean, he is, yeah, so… It can also end in friendship, who knows!” You give a nervous giggle and maybe it ends like that, maybe you find a great potterhead friend in a coworker. Suddenly Robin comes into the camera over your shoulder.
“He is fucking hot, I’m talking blonde, green eyes, AND Harry Potter fan.” She wiggles her eyebrows to Eddie and then to you and for some reason that made Eddie’s stomach flip over. So the guy liked something you liked. Something you were fascinated about. You rolled your eyes at Robin and then talked to Eddie again.
“I was going to tell you, but Robin beat me to it right now.” Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You told Robin first, of course, but the doubt in his mind was still there. When did he ask you out? How long ago was it? Why didn’t you say good afternoon to him first?
“Well, you better gear up for that Angel.” He says pushing up a half smile on his lips, his jaw clenching at the thought of someone else seeing you dressed up. Dressed up in order to get their attention, to fawn over you. Makeup neatly done to accentuate your best features, because you want them to look at you. 
“Yeah…” For some reason you couldn’t stop staring at him on the screen, your heart tugging on you for some unknown reason, and you were feeling a little bit lightheaded and his staring was making your body tense. 
“Welp Eddie, I have to help her get ready, tell Steve I’ll be there at 8!” Robin says excitedly, about to grab the phone out of your hands but Eddie stops her, flailing a hand around. He took a deep breath in, trying to contain himself at the moment. He had to be a good friend about this, because that’s all he was. Yes, that’s all he was.
“Angel, if you um… if you don’t feel safe at any point, or you feel uncomfortable, you leave, or call me– any of us. Okay?” He says to you, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You felt safe thanks to his words, but there was another feeling, a weird one that you didn’t know how to describe. You gave him a slow nod and your free hand gripped tightly into a fist.
“Y-Yeah… I’ll be fine, I can do this, right?” You look for his reassurance, wanting to know if the past month was worth it, if all the lessons and confidence boosters were going to work for this very moment. He stayed silent for a few seconds, forcing a smile on his lips as he nodded at you.
“Yeah, you got it sweetheart.” He should remind you about body language, he should remind you about the topics one can talk about on a date, he should remind you about how pretty you look without even trying, to not force yourself into doing extra or anything. He should remind you about how great you kiss, how amazing you feel, how great you smell, because that would make you confident. That would make the date go your way and not the other guy’s.
But he just clenched his jaw as you took a deep breath in with a nod, handing the phone back to Robin.
“Okay Eddie, see you later!” And like that, Robin hangs up the call, letting Eddie see his own reflection at the phone’s black screen. His eyebrows were knitted together, face completely tense, and he finally let his hand fall to his side, while the other ran all over his face in frustration. 
“MUNSON, MY PHONE!” Steve yelled from downstairs and Eddie clenched his fist around his phone that’s on his side, not even afraid if he was bending it or breaking it. His chest was heaving, up and down, sharp breaths flaring through his nose as the twist in his guts made him even more irritable, each second that passed as he thought about what you were going to wear. What you were going to smell like.
What if the date goes well?
Another scream for Steve made him finally snap out, slamming his fist against the doorway of his room, cracking his neck once as he took a deep breath in to calm himself down. 
“Stop pissing your fucking pants Harrington!” He yelled as he headed downstairs again.
He really hoped your date didn’t like anchovy pizza.
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You looked at yourself in the mirror, again, for the hundredth time in the day. You were wearing a tight black dress, almost like the purple one, with a leather jacket on top, and then you were wearing black low heel ankle boots. Robin helped with the outfit and the hair, but the makeup you decided to not use much eyeshadow, some neutral for it, and then eyeliner and mascara.
Your lips were glossy, and you looked down at your legs, a deep blush spreading on your cheeks. You shaved. Maybe it won’t lead to that, but you shaved, entirely, just in case because you knew your body was in need, and it had been for a few days. You felt some nausea appearing in your stomach as you stared at your reflection.
Do you even know how to have sex? You’ve only done missionary in your whole life, you don’t even know how to do a blowjob properly, hell, even a handjob! What if you are as stiff as a board? What if your moans are too loud? Would you even moan? You don’t remember moaning much before, not even when you touch yourself, and it’s just you in the room, no one else could hear you.
Your breathing started picking up at the thought of it, making you sit down on the bed. Austin had messaged you and told you to meet him at ‘Il Capo’ which is quite close to your apartment. The closeness made you feel somewhat calmer, but your thoughts were running wild at the possibilities the night might unfold. 
But you wanted to feel good, you wanted something or someone to satiate this need that was never there before and you don’t even know why it suddenly appeared. Maybe he can help with that, maybe this is a good thing, maybe you will be able to let go, just like you did with Eddie. 
Would he be like Eddie?
You snapped out of your daze as you heard an alarm from your phone, that you set up to make you actually leave your place. You took a deep breath in, getting up from your bed and grabbing your bag, taking a look at yourself once more, before deciding to leave your room and then your apartment. 
Every step you took towards your car and every second you drove to the bar, your heart was hammering in your chest, wanting to rip it open, wanting to simply turn and go to Eddie’s to spend the night with him, the boys and Robin. You had to shake that feeling away, knowing that this was good for you, this is a good fucking thing, something you yearned for for a long while. 
But as you stood outside the bar for 10 minutes, you were beginning to get fidgety. Maybe you were too early? Maybe it’s normal to not be punctual on a date? What if you come across as too uptight because of it? You didn’t want to make him think that you were a control freak of time, or that you were desperate or–
“Hey!” You heard your name being called, cutting your every thought and you turned around, your eyes almost wide as you had to look up towards the man that was greeting you. He was pretty, too pretty. His blonde hair was the same as you saw on camera, and he was wearing a white shirt, some jeans, and an opaque leather jacket on top that smelled like leather. The collar of his shirt was almost loose, which gave away how his muscles tightened as he bent down slightly to look at you.
“H-Hi Austin!” You slightly winced at how excited or how desperate you must have sounded but your knees were slightly buckling in his presence, your nerves at the tip of your fingertips as he looked at you. 
“Sorry, Lorraine was a little intense so I logged off a little bit later than I expected.” He says, wincing slightly but in all honesty, you had just waited 10 minutes, and he was making it seem like he was two hours late, which made you smile and shake your head, feeling a little bit more at ease.
“It’s alright, I didn’t really wait long.” You say to him and he nods towards the bar, guiding you both inside. It was still a little early for people to come in, but it was the time all office workers came for happy hours after a stressful day at work. He picked a rounded booth, and you took notice of the setting. This would allow you both to sit next to each other and not in front, facing one another. 
You took a deep breath in as you slid into the booth, him sitting next to you and his cologne suddenly hit you. It was bitter, too bitter for your liking, but it was still a manly smell. He took off his jacket and you blushed as you saw his biceps move, quickly taking off yours so it would feel casual. 
Body language, you gotta remember that. 
“So, why haven’t we gone out before? I haven’t seen you in like… any of the after office parties and I know you’ve been invited.” He says with a curious smile, looking at you, sitting almost on his side to be able to face you, so you copied his stance, feeling your cheeks get hotter as you looked at him. 
You can do this. They don’t have superpowers, he asked you out first, he was interested first.
“I’m more of an introvert, prefer to read or play something. Maybe hang out with my close friends.” You say to him as the waitress comes over to take your order. He orders a glass of Rum and Coke and you get a beer for yourself, with a side of french fries to snack on. That interaction let you take another deep breath to continue the conversation, feeling his body extremely close to yours, but he wasn’t really, your mind was just playing tricks on you, which you cursed in the depth of your brain.
“Oh? You play? I mean, reading I kind of guessed because of the massive library I saw, but I didn’t know you played games.” 
And that’s how the conversation flowed, getting to know one another, talking about work and about Lorraine, laughing as you both took your drinks, and you felt nice, the knot still deep in your stomach, but there was something nice about this. He was so much like you, with music, food, movies, books, almost identical.
“Right, and then my friend John, who I love dearly may I say, hugged that cactus, completely drunk out of his mind and we had to sit all around him, with tweezers, plucking all the little thorns out.” You laughed at that story, your eyes teary as you imagined the situation of a plastered guy just believing a cactus in someone's backyard was a person.
“H-Holy shit, that must of hurt!” He laughed with you, laying back on the booth, holding his belly from the strain of it.
“Sure it did, he had little thorns for over a week! He sat down on a chair and a new sting would appear.” He says with a shake of his head, calming his laughter down. You’ve been talking for the past hour and a half, letting yourself go in conversation and fluidity. 
“Oh to be the person that took the thorns out of there.” You giggled and he smiled at you, shifting again to face you. You noticed how his eyes changed from playful to a squint almost, and you noticed how they drifted to your lips and back to your eyes.
“So… Now that we know each other, which house do I belong to?” He asks and you smile, facing him as well with a turn of your upper body, squinting your eyes at him. You opened your mouth to speak and he stopped you with a hand up. “Hang on. We gotta set some prizes here.”
“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows up in surprise, feeling your chest almost somersaulting from the sudden proposal. 
“Okay, if you guess mine right, and I guess yours wrong, I’ll… Do your tax revisions for a week.” You smirked at that, knowing it was a good prize, and you pretended to be deep in thought before nodding at him.
“Alright, and if it’s the other way around? You guess mine, I don’t guess yours?” Your heart went to your throat as he gave you a grin, which made your cheeks flush, and your knees trembled as his eyes scanned your body for a brief second.
“I get to kiss you.” You definitely blushed at that and he noticed because he gave a small chuckle at your reaction. You gulped heavily, your belly turning in every direction possible, as your feet grew cold from your nerves.
“O-Okay…” He stood straight, fixing himself, and gave you a cocky smile, which made you a little bit more comfortable on his side. He was being goofy with you, and you very much appreciated that. “Mmm… I will say Gryffindor.”
He gave you a smile, relaxing his body and you noticed how he scooted closer to you. Blood rushed to your ears as he slowly shook his head at you. You guessed wrong. You took a sharp breath in and raised an eyebrow in question.
“You were wrong.” He chuckles as his eyes scanned you once again.
“And how do I know you are not lying?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling nervous about making a move, but Robin taught you it. Cross your arms under your chest and it will press your chest up a bit, popping it out. It worked, because his eyes drifted there for a millisecond and back to your eyes. He smiled widely, taking his keys out of one of the pockets of his jacket, and there, you saw the Crest of Slytherin dangling around it.
“And now, it’s my turn.” Your chest was ablaze as you copied him, straightening up to look at him, waiting for his response. If he guesses right, he will kiss you. This man wants to kiss you, willingly, and that is boosting you up a little. Feeling desired by a man like him felt nice, good. “Hufflepuff.”
You froze. 
He smiled widely at your surprised face, fully knowing he guessed right.
“I don’t even need to ask for proof, thanks to your silent reaction.” You gulped, hoping he wouldn’t hear that and how your belly was turning and jumping, because he was scooting closer and closer, each second that passed. “Do I get my prize now?”
You looked into his green eyes, into his perfect features, in how plump his lips were as he leaned in. The cologne is bitter, too bitter, yet, you close your eyes as the scent heightens, the warmth of his body presses closer, and you remember how the past few days you just needed this. You needed it. So you let yourself go, for once, and then you finally felt it.
Lips pressing against yours.
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“Okay, hang on, so I just like–” Robin was three beers in as she gave a sharp turn over her shoulder with a smirk on her face, trying to hold her laughter in, while Steve sat on a chair in front of her with arms crossed and an unamused look on his face. 
“You would suck as a stripper. That’s not even a fucking tease.” Steve says with a shake of his head while Billy laughs over at the couch looking at the scene, taking a sip out of his beer. 
“Robin, try to like, walk over to him, moving your hips from side to side.” Billy says as Eddie chokes on his own beer. He is on his fourth one, slightly feeling the buzz of it as he leans against one of the walls of their living room. 
Steve has been trying to teach Robin some stripper tricks, but the girl is hopeless. She was as stiff as a board as she tried walking sensually towards Steve who started laughing while covering his face with a shake of his head. The music she chose was ‘Super Freak’ and it wasn’t even sexy.
“She is hopeless, okay, Robs, try to, sensually take your jacket off.” Eddie says, a small smirk on his lips. He looked at his phone again, checking the time. 9 PM. And not a single word from you. His heart increased its pumping as he thought of what could have happened. Maybe you were having a great time, maybe he kidnapped you, maybe he murdered you. The possibilities were endless and they all sounded fucking wrong in his mind.
Even the one where you were having a great time with the guy.
Robin giggled and stood in front of Steve, starting to shrug her jacket away but the bell rang, making everyone raise an eyebrow in question, completely confused. 
“Didn’t we eat pizza like 10 minutes ago?” Steve asks and Billy gets up from the couch, heading towards the door, looking through the peephole first. His eyes widened and he yanked the door open.
“What are you doing here, sweets?” He asked as you stood at the door with a sour look on your face. Eddie immediately got off the wall as you walked inside the apartment, heels echoing around the room. He watched you with a bewildered look on his face as he studied your outfit and his knees almost buckled at the sight. 
You looked absolutely beautiful, and your scent filled the room in one swift movement as you rushed by him. Sweet, almost floral, and god he wanted to grab you right now. Anywhere, at any part, but he noticed your anger, and he looked towards Robin to check on her to see if she knew anything.
Robin was shocked to see her best friend here because she didn’t receive any messages at all, and she hadn’t checked her location for a while, which was her mistake. But you were here now, ripping the fridge open to grab a beer, closing the door and opening it for yourself, taking a large gulp for a few seconds. 
“Um…” Steve got up from the chair and looked at Eddie, motioning him with his head to go talk to you. Something was clearly bothering you, and they all suspected it had to do with your date. Eddie gulped, walking towards you as you sighed heavily with your eyes closed.
“Angel, everything okay?” You opened your eyes again and looked at his brown ones that were filled with worry. Your heart softened at that, and your anger washed away a bit, shaking your head.
“It wasn’t what I expected. I don’t want to talk about it.” You say with a grunt, going over to the couch to sit down with a grunt. Everyone else looked at each other in concern for a minute, wondering what happened or what’s wrong with you until you talked again with a confused frown to your face. “Why is super freak playing?”
At that Robin beamed, knowing you needed some cheering up even if the alcohol was buzzing in her body and she put her beer down on the coffee table, earning you a confused look on your face, looking at her. 
“The boys were teaching me how to be a stripper.” You choked on your spit, coughing a bit at her words. Your eyes immediately widened as you looked at the three boys who had playful smiles on their lips.
“Excuse me… what?” You say in surprise as Steve scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“You are a lame excuse for a stripper, you wouldn’t get a dollar placed on your belt.” He says and Billy laughs as he walks over to sit on your other side, taking his beer in his hand again and taking a sip from it. Eddie was trying to be subtle about it, taking short glances at you and your outfit, seeing your legs pulled together as you bent forward to listen to Robin.
“It’s just if my work bores me!” She giggled and you noticed that everyone already had a few drinks ahead of you, making you smile at how funny and fond everyone was being to each other, but there was still a storm inside of your head, which Eddie noticed. 
“Come on sweetheart, chug that beer down and get in tune with us.” You looked at him with a surprised look on your face and he just smiled and winked at you, causing your belly to simply burst with something. Your thighs clenched as you looked down at your beer bottle and you tipped it back, starting to chug it down.
And as you drank the second one, and it complemented with the two drinks you had back at the bar, the buzz was already in your body, giggling as Robin bickered with Steve about his hip movements, and how they were not normal for her to do, yet, she claimed she was good with her dancing.
“Robin, you can’t just simply sit on the lap, that would be overly sexual.” Billy states and Robin rolled her eyes, drinking out of her fourth beer, shaking her head. 
“You guys do worse!” She exclaims and you giggle at that and nod, completely agreeing with your friend. You still remember Steve on his knees with water being poured on his almost naked body, you remember Billy grazing his lips with Barb after he licked her neck like a lollipop and then you remember Eddie. His fingers in someone else’s throat, and his lips over another girl’s lips.
The grip on your beer tightened at the memory.
“Okay, Robin, show it to me.” You suddenly say and everyone’s eyes widened as you went to sit on the chair that was in the middle of the room. You looked at her defiantly, now your confidence skyrocketed thanks to the alcohol in your system and she gave you a puzzled look as you took a dollar out of one of the pockets of your jacket, dingling it around. “You make me speechless, this dollar is yours.”
At that Robin beamed, and ran to Billy’s phone which was connected on bluetooth to a speaker and put on ‘Under the influence’ by Chris Brown. You winced at the artist choice, but kept a straight face either way. You wanted to laugh really, as Robin started swaying from side to side, and you had to give it to her, she was really trying. 
The boys were all laughing, almost grabbing their bellies as Robin approached you, holding in her laughter while biting her lips together, trying really hard to not lose it right then and there. She got in front of you and then turned around to shake her ass at you and that made you lose it completely, letting out a big laugh as you tried to shoo her away.
“Oh come on! I am trying to be sexy here!” She exclaims and you shake your head wildly, trying to hold in your laughter but it is almost impossible as Steve chokes up on his words.
“Jesus christ, Robs I didn’t teach you that!” Robin glared at her friend while you giggled behind her, still sitting and suddenly, Robin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. It was risky, and she knew it, but she wanted to know, she really was intrigued by your reactions.
“Alright, Mr. Perfect Stripper, go get that dollar then.” Your eyes widened at those words as well as everyone else’s in the room. Eddie’s stomach turned, feeling like Robin had crossed a line she shouldn’t have but then your words startled him, almost made him sweat over.
“The dollar is still in my hands.” You giggle out, actually feeling the situation comical, even if your nerves were jumping all around in your body. You trusted the boys as friends now, maybe that’s why you didn’t feel the embarrassment of the first time you’ve ever seen them. You saw them as people now, people that had a job, and people that became your friend. Dear friends even.
“Oh, I am getting that dollar.” Steve says cockily. The same song was still playing, as he walked over to you, Robin scrambling away to the kitchen counter to start preparing more drinks, but always keeping an eye over you. 
Eddie gulped heavily, rising up from the couch to take his place back onto a wall, not being able to sit down any longer, as Steve walked all around your chair, looking down at you and brushing his fingertips over your shoulder. Your face remained stern, arms crossed over your chest as you followed Steve with your eyes.
You actually followed him with your eyes.
His eyebrow raised up when you didn’t even budge by his touch, giving Eddie a glance so that he knows he is still testing the waters with you. That made Eddie let out a breath of relief, knowing Steve wasn’t doing this with any other intention but to try to get you to give him the dollar.
Accepting the challenge, Steve cocked his head to the side as he stood next to you, his hip right at your eye level, and you kept your eyes forward, Billy holding in a laugh as you kept your lips tight, holding in your laughter as you clenched your eyes when you felt Steve slowly swaying downwards, grazing his belt against your arm. 
For some reason, you wanted to laugh really hard, because this felt like when Robin danced on you. You didn’t even think it was sexy or with a sexual intention. He just wanted to get the dollar out of your hand, and that made you even more cocky. His face was inches from yours when you opened your eyes, and you shook your head at him. 
His mouth fell open, giving Billy a surprised look on his face. Eddie clapped in the background making Steve jerk his head to glare at him. Robin let out a breath of relief as she laughed, shaking her head.
“Oh look, it seems you aren’t perfect stripper after all.” She says with her tongue between her lips that turned into a smile. Steve got up, groaning as he walked towards the kitchen counter to grab the rum and coke she prepared and took a long sip. He wasn’t going to lie, a little bit of his ego was smashed there, but there was a part of him that was happy you didn’t sweat, or fainted thanks to his closeness.
You were looking at Robin who winked at you, raising her glass up as a cheer, and you raised your beer bottle to her, and as you were about to put the dollar bill back in your jacket, your wrist was grabbed, gently, and you jerked your head up towards the person who was holding you.
“Hey, I’m getting that dollar out of your hand, okay sweets?” You blushed at the pet name, and you know Billy’s sex appeal is much bigger than Steve’s, which made your body shiver quite a bit. Eddie took a deep breath in as Billy glanced at him once. The song was still on, the chorus hitting your ears as Billy’s hand grabbed onto the beer bottle to take it away from you and place it on the coffee table.
You gulped heavily as he hovered over you, and slowly, his hands went towards your shoulder blades, sliding them under the jacket and you felt his palms on the skin of your shoulders. Your breath hitched at that as he slowly took your jacket off, sliding it off your arms to then throw it across the room and onto the couch. 
His hips stayed on your line of vision as he slowly swayed them side to side, unbuttoning the first row of buttons on his shirt to reveal his chest. This escalated way too much from what Steve did and Robin was in full alert as she looked at the scene. She was going to kick Billy’s ass if you fainted right then and there. But you didn’t, you weren’t even moving as you clasped the dollar in your left hand. 
Billy tilted his head at you, amused by how different you are from a month ago, daring to look him in the eye as he moved sensually in front of you. He licked his lips as he walked behind you, his hands being placed on your shoulders again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 
“Is that dollar mine yet?” And Billy smirked when you didn’t say anything, but your shoulders started shaking, alarming him, taking his hands off you to then hear you finally crack up, your laughter filling the room. Billy's eyes widened and he frowned in disbelief as everyone else followed in giggles.
“Look at her go!” Steve says clinking his glass with Robin’s who had a wide smile on her face, taking a gulp out of her drink. You were almost in tears as your head turned to look at Billy.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just, I couldn’t help it!” You say between giggles and Billy rolled his eyes, buttoning his shirt again and walking to get a glass for himself. 
“That dollar is hanging onto dear life.” Robin says and you giggle about to get up to retrieve your beer again but the lights suddenly dim, making everyone turn to the person near the light switch.
“You really forgot about me, Angel?” Your heart stopped when you saw him. He had put his hair up in a bun, his black shirt tight on his body, and shit, you didn’t take a good look at him when you first entered because your mind was definitely somewhere else, but now, your mind was on him. As well as your eyes, your scent, and you felt your breathing hitch at every thud his boots made against the floor. 
You heard your friends cheer on the low, and whistle, but you didn’t care, not when he suddenly got on his knees, crawling slowly to where you were, your thighs clenching tightly as your breathing picked up a pace because your heart started hammering wildly in your chest. 
He smirked, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he finally reached your feet, taking one ankle in his hands and raising it up, towards his face. Your leg started tingling from the sudden touch, and your belly was burstin with flames at the sight. Suddenly, it felt as if it were just the two of you in the room, all alone, as Eddie looked at you with eyes that one could only describe as adoration. 
He smiled as he took off your left boot, letting it fall to his side, and he led his lips towards the skin of your ankle. And oh god, that felt as if an electric shock shot from the place he pressed his lips on, and up towards your hips until it reached your brain. Your breathing was becoming too elaborated, but it was different from the other times you were breathless.
This felt too different.
His lips kept grazing your skin as he slowly started going up your leg, kissing your calf, softly, almost unnoticeable, but for you, it felt as if he were branding himself with hot iron lips. Everything inside you was burning, absolutely everything, but you didn’t want it to stop. Instead, you wanted it to keep spreading, more, and more.
Eddie was in a completely different battle all by himself, because you tasted sweet. Too sweet. Or maybe his brain was making it up because you drive him crazy. Maybe his brain was making it up because he was delighted to have you here instead of you being with your other date. Maybe his brain was making it up because he wanted to taste more. He needed to taste more of you.
You don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.
He kissed your knee tentatively, looking up at you with his big brown doe eyes and your ankle started to finally lower itself as Eddie’s hand started moving upwards, feeling your skin under his fingertips, until the pressure got tighter on your thigh, making you gasp in your throat. He smirked at your reaction, slowly pulling himself up, in a crawl, first gripping on your thigh for leverage, and then his face came up in front of yours.
Your eyes locked with his again, and there was a connection that felt like nothing you ever felt before. Something that your heart was trying to tell you, and your belly jumped with excitement, but your brain was not cooperating into finding a word for it. His hand gripped the back of your chair, over your shoulder, his tattooed arm pressing against your skin as he leaned closer towards you, and then your mouth fell slightly open as the fingertips of his right hand touched the hem of your dress.
I don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.
Your hand trembled, yet, your eyes never left his, even if his breath was hitting your face, and the tension Eddie was feeling with you was nothing like he ever felt before. This is definitely different than before, and he knew it, and he was wondering if you knew it. And he almost couldn’t help himself as his eyes drifted to your lips.
He wanted another taste. He needed another taste. The sweetness of your skin still lingering on his lips as he licked them to keep it in his mouth a little longer. But his eyes snapped open from the daze when he felt something in the front pocket of his jeans. He looked down to see you putting the dollar in there, and everyone else suddenly reappeared in the room.
He looked up into your eyes again, and your breathing was heavy, looking at him as your hand dropped to your side after putting the dollar in his front pocket. Nervousness, it was definitely there, you knew it was there, but the shyness was being overpowered by something else.
What is it?
“Now we know who the perfect stripper is.” Robin says excitedly with a squeal, which finally makes you and Eddie break from your trance. He broke into a big wide smirk, as Billy turned the lights on again with his arms crossed. He held a smirk as he looked at your face, which was a blushing mess, yet you were still looking at the brown eyes in front of you, not caring if he could see that. Eddie definitely had an advantage in this game.
Eddie pulled away from you, grabbing onto your hand to pull you up from the chair, which made you center yourself into reality once more. Maybe it was the alcohol, it definitely was that, but that growing need was in your belly again. Why now when you’re with friends? This doesn’t happen when you are hanging out with them, or it shouldn’t. You slid your foot back onto the shoe that Eddie took off, feeling the heat at the tip of your toes.
“Of course I was going to win.” Eddie says as he tries to push his nervousness away, walking towards the drinks to take a sip from one glass. Act nonchalant, act like there is no tension in the air and everything will be fine. He had to act as if he wasn’t going to kiss you right then and there in front of everyone else.
Robin was looking at you, trying to hide a smile while sipping her glass as you looked down, heading to grab a glass of your own. You shouldn’t drink anymore, but your throat was dry so you took just one more sip, and that’s all. Maybe that burning feeling would go away, it must be the alcohol producing it, and you say it like a mantra, to make sure that it’s real.
“I think the best stripper would be her if she dared to do so. I just have a feeling.” Billy says while pointing at you, squinting his eyes as he looks down at you, and that makes you smile, the tension in your shoulders disappearing for a second.
“Oh, now that would be dangerous.” Eddie says as he takes a sip while looking down at you as well, and you catch his eyes, a playful look on them, a hint of something you are not distasteful of, and you smirk up at him, feeling yourself burst with sudden excitement.
“You afraid I’ll take all your clients away?” You ask and he cocks an eyebrow up at the shift of your tone, the confident voice you just blurted out of your lips almost knocking him to the ground as he squinted slightly at you.
“They’re all women.” He says and you shrug, looking at Robin.
“Would the ladies like me?” You ask and Robin smiles, winking at you over her glass.
“Definitely.” You give Eddie a triumphant smile as he rolled his eyes, but deep in his mind he was imagining things. Oh, so many things. Things he shouldn’t think about with you. Things he should run away from, but even so, he knows it’s too late for it. He knows it, and even if there is a part of him that wants to run away from it, he also wants to embrace it. 
“Robin, make me another one of these.” Steve slightly slurs as Billy nods and hands his glass towards Robin. Eddie does not, sipping his last drink of the night as he watched you not drinking anymore either. He has questions afterall, so many, and you were not going to leave until you’ve answered them. Maybe it was to appease his mind, maybe it was because he needed reassurance of some sort. Maybe it was because he wanted to know if your date failed.
And he hoped, even if evil, that it did.
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“Shh!” Eddie says as you both walk upstairs. You were holding in your giggles as you gave a final look at the plastered and passed out Steve, sleeping on the floor with a pillow under his head, Robin resting her head on the small of his back, salivating it completely, while Billy snored on the couch with his jacket over his face.
They had three more glasses of whatever concoction Robin made, and it took no more than an hour for them to simply pass out drunk. Eddie and you had quit long ago, still a little fuzzy from alcohol but nothing like the people in the living room. You follow him into his room, and you realize that you’ve never been in there before. You walked in with an awe look on your face, looking around and Eddie leaned against the doorway, smiling while crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you as you inspected his room.
His room was dark colored, some posters hung on the walls, from different bands that he had mentioned he liked, completely different to the ones you liked, but you didn’t mind listening to his music every once in a while. A large bed was in the middle of it, covered in black comforters, because of course it was going to be all dark. Your eyes glanced at his desk, seeing various notebooks piled up and what looked like a folder.
You walk towards it, and read the top of it. ‘Hellfire Club’ and a logo of a demon with dice all around. You are guessing this is his Dungeon Master guide. He had mentioned his high school club to you, and you also knew he took the role seriously whenever he got together with his old friends. Your eyes caught on something on the desk and your eyes bulged out of your sockets, taking the frame in your hands.
“Oh my god… Is this you?!” You ask excitedly as you look at a young Eddie with a buzz cut on his head, missing tooth, smiling next to Wayne with a fish in their hands. Eddie winced at how quick you found that picture, but he was actually quite fond of it, hence why he kept it and even had it on display.
“Yeah. My old man made me cut it. Told me long hair is not very… manly.” His eyes drifted to the floor and you looked at him, realizing this is not a topic he likes to discuss. You knew little to nothing about Eddie’s family, apart from Wayne, Claudia and Dustin, and it seemed he preferred to keep it that way with you. But it was okay, they were the only ones that you really cared to know about, because they cared about Eddie.
“If he saw you now, he would eat his words, wouldn’t he?” Eddie chuckled at that, looking up at you again, his breath taken away when you were fondly smiling at him. He didn’t realize it before, but his heart rate had picked up a pace the moment you walked into the room with no problems at all. 
“Okay, now that we’re alone.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you feel yourself grow hot on your cheeks and your chest at the realization you are actually alone, in his room, with him. You had to take a deep breath in, he was your friend, this is no different than all the other times you’ve been alone with him. “Care to tell me what happened with your date?”
You closed your eyes as you sighed. Your mood lowered in an instant as soon as he asked that question to you. There was anger in your chest, but also uncertainty, and with a lot of doubt. You knew the question would pop up at some point, because you showed up unannounced, didn’t say anything, and acted as if nothing happened today.
“It just… It wasn’t what I thought it would be.” You blushed slightly at your response, not wanting him to think you were a picky person, but maybe you were.
“Angel, gotta give me more than that. You didn’t look happy at all when you came in here.” He walked towards you to get a hold of your shoulder for you to look up at him. He gave a nod to his bed, motioning you to sit down with him at the edge of it, next to one another. He took off his boots and you looked down at your bare feet. You had taken yours off downstairs, feeling a little cramped from wearing them too long. 
“I– I don’t know…” You weren’t looking at him, and his gut turned at the nervousness in your voice. He was afraid something was done to you without your consent, but you didn’t seem nervous with him or with the guys before, so that theory kind of runs thin. 
“Sweetheart, did he say something? Or did he do something you didn’t like?” He asked you and your eyes widened, shaking your head at him with surprised eyes. 
“No, no, he was… He was sweet, and he was easy to talk to…” He held your gaze, trying to read you as his brows furrowed in confusion, as well as his fist clenched against his knee. 
“Then…? I don’t understand what happened.” He reminds you, once more, and you sigh heavily as you hide your face in your hands, resting your elbows on your knees, bending forward.
“I just– He was attractive, he was, I know it! I was so nervous, super nervous, and we talked about Harry Potter, and music, and food, and we’re so fucking alike and…” You didn’t know where you were going with this, but you were trying to explain what’s going on in your head, you really are, but you also feel embarrassed to do so, to say it to him.
“I am… still a little bit lost darling.” He was really confused, and he cannot even read what’s going on with you. This new side of you is baffling him, because you were easy to read before, see what was on your mind because of your eye movements, or tug on your lips. Now, he cannot really say what’s happening to you, and that kind of bothers him, annoys him really.
“I— God, I can’t say it to you. I just– I just thought it was going to be different than what I expected.” You say putting your hands down and he could finally see how bashful you looked, embarrassed, and he wanted to know why you were feeling in such a way. 
“You can tell me anything Angel. If it means it can help you understand yourself, then I am more than willing to listen to you.” He softly says and you slowly turn your head to look at him, finding understanding and care in his features. Your heart was in your throat as you felt the blood flow even more towards your cheeks. You looked down at your fingers again, playing with one of your silver rings to distract yourself.
“Okay I– I um… I know there’s supposed to be… something else. When I kissed him, and it was a good kiss even, I just–”
“You kissed him?” Oh his own heart felt like exploding right now. He knew the vein in his forehead was about to pop off, but he didn’t care. He felt like a punch was delivered towards the side of his body, but he gulped the green vile forming, clenching tightly onto his knee again.
“Yeah– He kissed me first, and it was good, really good!” You weren’t looking at him, still down at your fingers so you weren’t able to see the redness that got into Eddie’s face as you said those words. “But… I didn’t– I expected… sparks? Or… Fire?” 
That got the green monster to vanish away from Eddie’s body. He gave a slow nod in thought as you explained, and he came to a simple conclusion, that he knew you weren’t experienced with it because you never felt it.
“You weren’t attracted to him.” You blinked at that with a confused frown on your face and finally looked up at him.
“But he was attractive.” You defend and he shakes his head at you with a soft smile on his face. 
“It doesn’t mean you will automatically be attracted to them. For example, Billy, you don’t find him attractive.” He frowned at his words in thought, and his brain turned its gears by itself, noticing you were still looking at him, without answering. “You’re not attracted to Billy, right?”
“Oh! No! I see him as a friend.” You replied in surprise and he smiled in return, his heart jumping in excitement at your answer. 
“Attraction has to do more with… a person. Sure, you can feel attracted to a guy who is attractive only by sight, but maybe when you get to know him, it’s not what you expected.” You frowned at that, tilting your head to the side to look towards the ground as your thoughts started processing in your head. 
Austin was perfect. He liked your music, pop, rock, some jazz probably, then the food, it was almost the same, except for your liking on putting fries on a milkshake, or anchovy pizza. Then the Harry Potter talk was smooth, charming, and it felt as if you were talking with…
With a friend.
“Oh…” Was all you managed to say and Eddie knew you finally understood the meaning of it. “Oh, that sucks, and I even shaved.” You slump again with a sigh, not even registering what you just said, until a second later you did. Your eyes went wide in realization, slowly turning to look at him whose mouth was open with a bewildered look in his face. 
Did you say you shaved? You, who had problems with kissing just two weeks ago, suddenly had the bravery of sleeping with someone on the first date? What happened in the past two weeks that he hadn’t noticed for you to suddenly become bold like that?
“I-I…” You were red in the face and the nerves were getting to you, so, the words started vomiting out of your mouth, without processing at all in your head. “I just been very needy lately, out of nowhere, and it never happened before, and I don’t know, maybe now that I can finally talk to guys, that need reappeared and it’s been so fucking long and I don’t know–” 
“Whoa, whoa, hang on, slow down, please.” He was overwhelmed by the sudden information you were giving to him and he was trying to process it all by closing his eyes to take a deep breath in. Needy. You were needy. And that is not doing good things to him right now. He is thinking of so many things in such a rushed pace that he cannot swallow it all down in one go. 
You looked down, biting the skin next to your nail on your thumb, trying to appease some of the nerves and the nausea that was whirling in your stomach, ready to get out and make an even more fool out of yourself. How could you just blurt that out to him? Why did you do that?
“F-Forget what I said– Please–” You made him snap out of his thoughts, with a shake of his head and even if his stomach was about to explode in a million pieces and he cursed at himself as the blood was starting to slowly rush south on him.
“Calm down, it’s fine, just– So, you thought that it would be a good opportunity to…” He didn’t even finish the words, not wanting to imagine the outcome of you actually going with that chance. You swallowed the big lump in your chest, but his eyes were looking into yours, looking for understanding, for you to try to explain yourself to him.
Making you feel safe.
“I– Yes… I just thought that… If I– slept with someone who I found attractive then… I would feel good…” And there it was. Eddie’s eyes saddened as you looked down at the floor again. You just confessed to him that in none of the times you were intimate with a man, you felt good. “I know they tried… I remember them trying, but, when you are not attracted to the person, your mind is not really– Not into it.”
And Eddie’s eyes flickered with something, a switch was pressed inside of him as he looked down at your frame, defeated, and thinking something was wrong with you. He didn’t want you to feel that way, not for a single second. His hands were burning as he raised one towards your thigh, pressing it gently on top. You shivered at the sudden touch, looking down at the rings that grasped your thigh.
“What you need to do is shut your brain. You think too much about what the other person is doing, and who the person is, when sometimes you don’t have to think of any of those things, because maybe those guys you’ve been with, at least one probably did a good job, but you were too caught up in your mind that you didn’t let yourself go with it.” He explained softly, as calmly as possible for you and your eyes widened slightly at that.
You’re always in your mind, even when you’re touching yourself. That’s why you never remember who you’re picturing or if you’re even imagining something at all, and maybe that’s why it takes you too long to finally reach that peak you look for. But how do you get out of your mind? How do you make it stop processing any kind of thought?
“I… I don’t know how to do that, Eds…” His eyes closed at the nickname, feeling the sweetness in his tongue at it. He bit the inside of his cheek as he opened his eyes again to look at you. His control was slowly slipping away, he knew it, because the idea that came to his head, the thought of it, the craziness of it, was driving him mad with desire. He was nervous to ask, he was nervous, for the first time in his life in making a move. But it could help you, that’s what he keeps repeating to himself.
Everything is in order to help you.
His hand on your thigh slowly raised up, getting hold of your jaw with his thumb and index finger, making you slowly turn to look at him, and your eyes widened at seeing him much closer than before. Your breathing was caught in your throat as he stared down at you, his lips slightly agape, and you could swear you could hear the beat of your heart bouncing at every wall in the room.
“Let me teach you Angel.” He softly said, and you froze.
Is he meaning what you think he is meaning? But friends don’t do this, friends are just friends like you were with Robin, Steve and Billy. Maybe he is just helping you, no, you’re sure he is just helping you. No other intention involved to that, and you have to push him away. You have to say no, you have to deny it, you have to reject it, because there’s no possible way he would willingly do this.
But there was a fog in his pupils, something you don’t think ever saw before, not when men looked at you, but Eddie it’s not the first time you’ve seen it. You wondered if your eyes looked the same, if your eyes were showing him that feeling you cannot describe by yourself, that desire you had been feeling of wanting more. 
“I’ll help you shut your mind off. So… Please– Please let me make you feel good.”
Your heart almost stopped beating at his words. 
He was begging and he knew that, but if he didn’t have a taste of you now, in any way, his mind was going to fail him. He was sure he was gonna go crazy if he couldn’t touch you, whether be with his fingers, with his palms, with a graze of his arm against yours, or with his lips. 
His lips were inching closer to you, but you knew that without approval he was not going to kiss you. Because it was Eddie. Eddie who’s always been careful with you. Eddie who made you laugh on stressful days at work. Eddie who also came to you for his own bad days. Eddie who always makes you feel safe no matter what you’re doing or where you are.
And you wanted more. More since that night. More since his lips touched yours days ago, counting the hours and minutes to feel something like that again. It was just the feeling of it you wanted, that’s what you kept telling yourself, what you KEEP telling yourself just to save it all. Just to save this line. A line that if you crossed, you might end up hurt.
But right now, his words are the only thing that you could think about. And you felt it. You felt what you were seeking with Austin, what you couldn’t feel, what you felt in the living room, what you felt by yourself in your room.
Burning.
You gave him a short and slow nod, something he really was not expecting, but he wasn’t going to question you on it. He was going to be greedy, he knew this, he knew he was being selfish, but can you blame him? You were on his bed, wearing a short black dress, your shoulder exposed for him to bite on, your skin glistening for him to kiss it, your neck decorated with a thin golden necklace, which also had a sweet scent emanating from it.
So he leaned down, his palm pressing on your cheek, pulling you into him, pressing his lips against yours, once again. Your heart was elated, gleaming with excitement and happiness and your brain had to work again, despite the haziness and despite the turning of your stomach, and you returned the kiss.
Your hands twitched on your knees, wanting to grab onto him, wanting to touch him, wanting him to be closer and you didn’t know if you should. As his lips moved with yours, you felt yourself moving closer to him, just one single scooch, just one simple movement that impulsed him, eager, to hold your other cheek with his free hand, cradling you in them.
You felt his fingers sliding a bit towards the back of your head, his fingertips on your nape, sending electricity to places you never felt before. Your blood was rushing to your ears, but you could still hear the smacking of your lips in the room, and even if your mind was telling you to be embarrassed, that you should be, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it. Because the way he was kissing you, the feeling he was igniting in you, was way bigger than your nerves, than your embarrassment, than your bashfulness. 
He ran his tongue on your bottom lip, and this time you didn’t even hesitate to allow his entrance. He groaned into your mouth as his tongue touched yours, and that sound must have been the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard in your life, and he was just kissing you. Was that a good sign? Was he feeling the burning you were feeling as well?
He couldn’t stop tasting you, he couldn’t stop kissing you, you were addicting, like the ambrosia the gods had promised, and he didn’t believe he would ever get enough of it. Of you. He definitely can’t get enough of you, it was not possible. Your tongue was shy, but soft, following his movements, making him go crazier each second the kiss turned even more heavier than before.
He pulled away slowly, to your dismay, because you wanted to keep kissing him, not realizing your thighs were clenching together as your hands gripped onto your skin. He inspected you for a second, his breath a little heavy as he pressed a peck to your lips again, and you were surprised by that gentle touch, until his next kiss was on your cheek. Then, he kissed your jaw, all sweet and soft kisses but that were burning you in every possible good way.
His hands went away from your cheeks, and one rested on the back of your head, gently gripping on your hair to pull your neck back, making your eyes go wide and your stomach turn with a sudden flip. He noticed how you tensed at the movement and he was going to tell you to stop, that he will back off. But he was selfish, so fucking selfish.
“Don’t think… Close your eyes Angel, and let yourself feel.” And with that, he pressed a soft, nervous kiss on your pulse point. That was enough to send a shiver down your spine, goosebumps emerging on your arms, and you knew you had to hold onto him. Your hand shot to the back of his head, and he was surprised that you were touching him right now, yet, a smile appeared on his lips and he hoped you couldn’t feel it, glad you couldn’t see it. 
Because that would give him away.
He pressed another kiss on your neck, this time more firmly, tasting your perfume in his tongue, making him go even madder than before, the small string of his self control ready to snap. Your mind was a jumbled mess, but the burning was unbearable now. It was all over your body, but it was even more intense on where he was kissing. 
He tested the waters, by nibbling once and gently on your skin, and he felt you shiver, moving him slightly in response. Oh he was loving your reactions to him. He has to make you feel good. He has to. He needs to. Because his imagination of how you would react to him touching you, worshiping you, caring for you, was making him even more desperate to have you.
Your mind was slowly turning hazy as you felt him suddenly sucking on your pulse point, and that made a small moan get caught in your throat, vibrating against his lips. And that was it for Eddie. His free hand finally raised from his knee, to move towards your exposed one, gently touching it with his fingertips first, before his palm fully rested on top of it.
Your thighs clenched again and he noticed. He was making you feel like this, he was making you tremble slightly, by the grace of his lips, by his touch, and, god, he needed more. His hand started moving up and you felt everything you felt an hour ago, but this time, it heightened because of the kisses he was leaving on the skin of your neck.
His fingertips were on your thigh and he pressed them tentatively against your skin, and you jumped slightly at the pressure. Your eyes were closed as you felt him suck on your neck again, but a little lower this time. His lips moved closer to your collarbone, leaving a gentle yet scorching kiss there, and you gasped when you felt him bite where your bone would be. 
He was holding his own groans back, and he knew you would be able to see the growing hardness in his pants. He didn’t want you to think this was about him, no, this was all about you, on teaching you to enjoy yourself, teaching you how to feel, teaching you that anyone can make you feel good.
That HE can make you feel good.
He pulled away from you and you almost whined at the loss of contact, missing his warm breath against your skin but he had to check on you, know if you wanted to keep moving forward with him. He gulped when you looked down on him, half lidded eyes that were almost lost in the sensations he just gave you. He wanted to smirk to himself, a victory in his chest forming at seeing you coming undone under his hands.
“You alright darling?” His voice was low, sending a chill down your body, almost trembling in his hands as he held you. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted him to kiss your neck again, you wanted more. You gave him a slow nod and he had to even out his breath so you wouldn’t notice his excitement. “Come here.” 
He got on the bed, sliding towards the head of it, to sit against his headboard with his legs open, flexing his knees. Your eyes widened when you saw him like that, but you were magnetized to him, as if you were in a drunken state. He patted his inner thigh, motioning you to go to him and that you did, crawling on all fours towards him and he almost moaned, literally moaned at that sight. 
He was going crazy about you, he knew that, every move you made was like a stab in his heart, in his groin, just any part of his body, and when you were crawling like that, he was even more afraid of what he could possibly do. Of what he was capable of doing. But he cared too much about you, that’s why, he is only helping you for now.
Your eyes were trained on his and when you finally arrived in front of him, he held your shoulders to turn you around, making you sit in between his legs, your back almost pressing against his chest. Your legs were tight together, straight in front of you. Your stomach was almost hurting from the amount of knotting that was happening, and you were afraid of popping your liver or something. It was too straining.
“Now, here’s what I want you to do Angel…” He pushed your hair away from your right shoulder, and you trembled when you felt his lips press on your bare skin, goosebumps raising on your arms as you listened to him. His right hand came to press onto your thigh again, grazing it with his fingertips. “I want you to fully disconnect from your brain.”
“Eddie–” Doubt was starting to fill in your head again, the line being there, the line that you don’t want to cross, and the line that you don’t want to break because of this. 
“No, no… Don’t think. Just feel, heighten your sense of touch…” He started tracing his fingers upwards on your thigh, shivers being sent towards your legs as you looked down at his movements. His lips were suddenly pressed in between your shoulder and neck, making you gasp as his other hand, pressed on the other side of your neck, tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your skin.
His right hand pressed more firmly against your skin now, slowly trying to get in between your thighs. You felt suddenly a wave of heat rush through you, your skin burning from how flustered you suddenly got and he noticed once again by how you tense your shoulders.
“I– I don’t know–” But you wanted to. You wanted to know, but your head was working again, unlike a few minutes ago. He shook his head slightly, whispering low into your ear, his breath hitting just right to make you almost whimper and tremble at the feeling. 
“Feel me. Feel me touching your skin, feel my lips on your neck, the sensation it causes. Don’t think about me, just feel.” And his hand finally nudged in between your thighs as he pressed a kiss right below your ear, making a moan get trapped in your throat again. He pulled you flush against his chest now, as his hand started pushing your leg open.
The knots in your stomach went crazy now, thinking of what he was doing, feeling the fire on his fingertips. He was spreading your legs open, and that made you realize that the heat was below. It had always been deep in your belly, yearning, wanting, desiring. The need you’ve been feeling all this time was multiplied by a hundred right now, and you wanted it to be over, because it was unbearable.
So, you helped him, by spreading your legs open, your knees hitting his as you pulled them up. 
He smirked as he glanced down, feeling you breathing heavily against him. This was it, you were trusting him, completely giving yourself to him, and he had to make a decision. He could stop, he could go back to just being a friend that helps here and there, but no more than that, not this.
Or he could keep being selfish.
He sucked on your sweet spot, making you groan slightly, but it was a way to distract you from when his fingers started caressing your inner thigh. Soft, grazing his fingertips, giving a soft press as he felt your legs move slightly at his touch. 
“Can I make you feel good?” He whispered against your skin, for just one last approval, because even if he had his own desire, his own selfishness, greediness, you were always going to be first. Always putting you first, above all. You let out a content breath, knowing this, knowing he was caring for you. You gave a final nod, and that’s all he needed.
He raised the hem of your dress even more, because it had moved up when he was touching your inner thighs, but he needed more access. He slowly moved his hand as his lips nibbled on your shoulder, until he finally felt the lace of your underwear, and his eyes almost widened when he pressed a bit more onto it.
You were wet. Completely, and for him.
He took a deep breath in, trying to not think about how painful his hard on was in his pants, and finally cupped you through your underwear, making you gasp and almost jerk out of his grasp. It wasn’t even a full on touch, it was soft, and gentle, yet it had provoked a feeling inside of you that was too intense, but you needed more, god, you needed more.
Desperately.
“Eddie– Please…” And he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth, because you were asking him to go forward, asking him to move faster, and he was going to comply. He wanted nothing more than to please you, fully, entirely, until you couldn’t breathe normally.
He finally started tracing circles against your clothed clit, slow, small, and you tilted your head back, eyes closed, resting against his shoulder. Your breathing became more erratic as you felt his lips against your neck again, his tongue licking on your skin as his movements became faster, one of your hands raised to cover your mouth so that the moans wouldn’t come out, while the other was gripping onto his thigh tightly.
“No, nothing of that.” He took his hand away from your neck to grab onto the wrist that was over your mouth. You gasped at his actions, wanting to hold back on your noises and he raised his lips against your ear again, grazing them against the skin now. “Letting go means your voice as well.”
You were never vocal, you didn’t even know if they were nice, or if they were just horrible and embarrassing, but all thought was cut off when you felt his fingertips on the edge of your underwear, pulling the elastic up so they could move under the fabric. Your heart stopped when you felt him, raw, against your clit, and you let out the first small moan out of your lips, almost a whimper.
And Eddie lost it.
He attacked your neck again, this time, more forcefully than before as his index and middle finger started circling on your bud, wanting to hear more of those moans, wanting to feel you move against him even more, wanting you to completely lose yourself. You were wet, too perfectly wet for him, and he was trying really hard to keep a straight mind but it was becoming a losing battle with each moan that came out of your mouth.
He ran his fingers down, through your wet folds and you gave a breathy sigh, your chest trembling at the sensation of it. You never felt this, not even with yourself, because you never really cared to explore. You just put on the vibrator on your clit and waited, and waited, but recently you didn’t have to wait much, for the past few weeks, your climaxes came quicker than before.
He coated his fingers in your slick, wetting them properly as he kissed under your ear again to keep your sensations going all over the place. He wanted to touch your breasts as well, he wanted to see them, he really needed to pull your dress down, but he knew that would take this whole thing somewhere else, and even if he desperately wanted to, he was keeping his word on just making YOU feel good.
Your eyes widened when you felt his middle finger slowly thrusting inside of you, making way, spreading you gently, but it was enough for you to arch your back slightly, wanting more of it, more of the friction it was bringing and Eddie smirked against your skin at your reaction. He started moving, slowly, in and out, testing how you moved and reacted, but then your moans increased a little bit in volume. 
He didn’t care about the people in the living room, not right now. The only person he cared about right now, was you, entirely you, and as he curled his middle finger inside of you, your eyes closed once more, letting the sensation take over you as he touched a place you never felt before, you never thought that could be achieved. 
“Oh, god–” You moaned out, and Eddie groaned against your shoulder, his pace increasing slightly as he felt your warm walls engulfing him, sucking him in, yearning for more, so he complied once again, and got his ring finger inside as well. 
Your belly was on fire as you felt the sudden stretch, and you couldn’t help it, you really couldn’t, you wanted more and more, so you met the thrusting of his fingers with your hips, making them go even deeper inside of you, your moans now coming out of your mouth loud, and breathless.
“Fuck–” Eddie couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of you, arching your back against him, and he wondered if you could feel him. If you could feel the throbbing bulge that was on his jeans, rubbing against you. If you kept doing it, he was going to finish in his pants, he knew it, but he didn’t care. He really didn’t care.
His fingers curled upwards again, and now he wasn’t thrusting in and out any more, but actually pressing the palm of his hand against your clit, while his fingers were still inside, and his movements started going up and down. Your mouth fell open as he started hitting that part of you no one has ever touched before, while rubbing your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation and your nails dug into his clothed thigh.
He told you to not think of him, but his sweet scent was on your nostrils, his lips were on your skin, his breath was on your ear, but it didn’t stop you from feeling. It didn’t stop you from letting go either. In fact, knowing it was him, knowing that his fingers were doing things you never thought anyone could do to you, and knowing he was the one making you feel good, was making you desperate, and you were loving every second of it.
Your eyes started seeing stars, clouding your vision in white, and your stomach was tightening on itself as your legs trembled in anticipation of your incoming climax. He could feel it, your walls clenching on his fingers, driving him mad, absolutely insane. His pace quickened as he bit onto your neck softly, giving it a kiss afterwards as your moans filled the room. But you almost made him freeze in place because he had not expected to hear it, because he had told you to not think of him, yet–
“Eddie– Eddie, please–” You were moaning his name, begging him to help you with your release, begging him to keep going, and he couldn’t take it anymore, letting go of your hand, with his arm wrapped around you, taking your jaw in his hand, turning your head so he could kiss you, passionately, desperate for your moans to fill his mouth.
Your moans flew immediately into his throat, growing even louder, hiding the wet noises he was provoking with the movement of his fingers, kissing him, making your release want to explode even quicker than before, heightening the feeling.
Your breaths became short gasps as your belly finally exploded, your walls clenching around his fingers and your back arched completely into his hand. He didn’t let go of your face, holding you tightly so you wouldn’t move away, swallowing your moans and whimpers, a moan of his own mixing with yours at the feeling. 
Your eyes had tears from the overwhelming sensation as he slowed his pace with his fingers, feeling you slowly unclench, helping you ride the last bit of your orgasm out, until you finally relaxed against him again. He pulled away from the kiss, but kept his face close to you as you rested your head against his shoulder, your nose in the crook of his neck. 
Your breathing was heavy and your mind was a complete mess. You never felt like that in your life, in any sense or any way, but maybe you had an idea of why that was. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, your trembling legs finally falling down, splayed on the bed this time. He had let go of your jaw and wrapped his arm around you to keep you close to him, not caring any longer if you felt him.
He looked at the glistening of his fingers and clenched his eyes against the desire of tasting you, wiping them against his comforter. He was also breathing heavily, from all the emotions he felt in past minutes, or hour. He never felt that good pleasuring someone else, never in his life, always waiting for the other to reciprocate. 
This time, he didn’t need to. He didn’t want you to. He just wanted you to feel good, by him, and him only. He opened his mouth to talk to you, but felt the soft breaths against his neck, and the raising and falling of your chest. You had fallen asleep on him. 
He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, his hand still wrapped around your frame as it guided itself up, cradling your head against his shoulder. He turned his head and he even surprised himself with his action, pressing a kiss at the top of your head.
But then, a frown came to his face. He had crossed the line. You two had crossed the line. He wondered what everything would be like after this, how you would be like after what just happened. Would you act like nothing has happened? His heart pained at that thought, his stomach turning as he thought, and thought, and when you mumbled his name against his skin, sleepily, he chuckled softly, shaking his head at himself.
There was no way he was going to act as if nothing happened.
Everything happened.
And he wanted more.
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End of part 5
A/N: Yes, I did imagine Austin Butler for this. Sue me. I hope you all enjoyed this part! There's more to come, angst coming your way bby. I know it was long BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THAT A REBLOG KEEPS THE FIC ACTIVE
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charliesgoodboy · 10 months
Note
dude sorry lol💀 I didn’t notice the 1000 event. Although, now that I see it, could I request prompt 29? With Miguel O’hara if possible… bottom reader preferably, don’t care if sub or dom
thanks for reading this and I’m sorry for wasting your time
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★miguel o'hara x male reader(nsfw)
★genre: smut
★warning(s): subtop miguel, dombottom reader, drinking miguels booby milk(might be a little gross the way i write things), dick riding(miguel gotta be a good 10 inches), miguel whimpers(real), kind of cringe titty talk, short fic i think, oh shit yeah and size kink, and reader doesn't need a web shooter
★a/n: i always add some extra shit bro also never say sorry for wasting my time(actually dont please) also im listening to tell me by fifty fifty😘
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you liked..no loved miguels tits. now it was kind of embarrassing to say it out loud to yourself but god, just look at them they were so big looking and fit him just right in a way you could very clearly explain if someone would just let you.
you were dating sure, but the urge to just squeeze them right where he stood no matter who was around it was just the damn urge to do so.
but no one said you couldn't do that in private now could they? all you were gonna ask for is one gentle squeeze and then you'd be finished. but one gentle squeeze turned into a few rough ones, that turned into you on top of him your ass slamming down onto his dick. his hands tight secure on your waist his nails retracted simply for your saftey.
"god..if only you could see yourself." if only he could, that look on his face was everything you needed in life he was so adorable looking, the way he kept trying to speak but whimpers and loud moans kept replacing them instead.
his face dripping with swear the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead his nipples perked which started to get you to wonder something. just a little curiosity, it wouldn't kill him.
you leaned down sticking out your tongue flicking the bud using your teeth to slightly pull at it before wrapping your mouth around it fully and sucking harshly.
his hands tried to pry you off but that was annoying, your fingers pressed against the edge of your palm, webs shooting out to make both of his hands stick to the head board.
"(m/n)— what the hell are you- fuck.." his hustle ended quick enough as your other hand fiddled with his other pec you fingers twirling his nipple around and pinching it getting such ear melting sounds and reactions out of him.
what a genius you are to think of something like this. having such a big guy under you whimpering with just the few touches of your finger? i mean sure minus the fact your still sitting on his dick rocking your hips occasionally it was such a sight to see him come un-done simply because of you.
looking up you saw his face was getting more twisted with pleasure almost as if something was coming, well you were right and wrong in your own mind. as you continued to suck you felt something fill your mouth there wasn't that much of it but you still felt it and his reaction was priceless.
every bit of it you swallowed, you could describe it tasting like sweet milk even something way different than semen. sitting up and licking your lips taking a deep breath and looking over to his other breast.
he was already out of breath and it seemed like he was trying to use his nail to unbind himself but you weren't done just yet. might as well stop moving your hips for him and just cockwarm him with your mouth all around his other nipple.
"miguel i hope you know we aren't finished." you gave him a small peck on his forehead then whispering something in his ear.
"this one looks a little neglected don't you think?"
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i fucking hate the ending bro also update im listening to the vampire😍😍 @gaybitchfx @esthxio @secretivemessenger @vyloy @bloodyfennec @kitsune-yuhhh @reallyromealone i feel like im missin someone
oh well
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ejswift · 4 months
Note
Hi
Can I please request a fic with Taylor swift x fem!reader where they are in a PR relationship and reader is a really big actress and in her late twenties and she’s an introvert and likes to build legos and play Mario cart and she’s a big softie and incredibly sweet but the catch is Taylor and her friends don’t really like the reader whenever she has to hangout with them they always ignore her and make her feel uncomfortable and unwanted between them and one day she goes live on instagram or TikTok and she’s building a Lego with her fans it’s something that she does a lot and the Lego just happens to be a lovers house one to support Taylor and the fans just go crazy meanwhile Taylor is with her friends and they are talking about how the reader is annoying and weird and always quiet and then one of them mentions how the reader is live now so they get on to spy on her and they realize how nice and cute the reader is and someone in the comments asks the reader about Taylor and she starts gushing about Taylor with a love struck smile on her face because she secretly likes Taylor and wants to pursue her for real and then later on they start treating the reader better and they go on real dates together and it’s just fluff. Sorry this is long you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to I just had this idea for a long time and wanted to share it but if you do end up writing it can you make it with as much details and events as possible. Thank you so much
note: this is such a cute idea!! it’s fairly different because i changed it up a bit to make it easier to write. thanks for the request! not proofread.
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IT’S LIKE I’M WASTING YOUR HONOR
pairing: taylor swift x fem!reader
warnings: taylor coming to her senses, sad but amazing folklore song
masterlist
to say you were in love with your PR girlfriend was an understatement. you knew it the from the moment you had met her and heard her laugh at a corny joke that slipped from your nervous lips. taylor had been incredibly kind to you and had seemed to notice things others had never thought to mention to you. you were doomed.
you two began a PR relationship for many reasons, the number one being that it would help taylor’s prideful content reach further to others who were part of the lgbtq+ community.
now obviously you knew taylor wasn’t as in love with you as you were her; or if she even really loved you at all. but you didn’t let that stop you. after all, you two were supposed to act madly in love anyway.
so now you sit here on live building a lover house lego set that the company sent you two. taylor left four hours ago to go spend some time with her model friends and you had simply kissed her on the cheek and wished her a good time as she left.
your eyes scan the comments that speed past and you catch onto one of them in particular. “does taylor show you her song writing process?” you read aloud the comment.
you think about the question for a moment, trying to figure out what you can reveal on live without getting a call from tree. you weigh your options and decide fuck it. with a smile you answer, “sometimes she does. it’s mostly after we’ve had a few glasses of wine that she sings to me. half of the songs i hear on guitar or piano end up scrapped in her notebook.”
you look down at your lego set and continue placing pieces together, all while continuing to ramble on. you try to fight the smile spreading across your face but the intense emotions at the thought of the blonde invade your mind like a thick smoke.
“it’s sometimes sad to hear songs get scrapped because they end up being my favorites.” you admit. “she’s just so talented and i love being able to see her grow as a person.”
a week later
it’s been a week since you gushed about taylor on instagram live. the repercussions ended in the internet going insane over your guy’s relationship and calling you two perfect for each other.
taylor had been acting different lately and the thought of her being upset over the live made you feel worried. what if she completely disliked that?
but as you sit in front of the brick fireplace with two wine glasses in front of you and taylor’s cats curled into the side of your criss-crossed legs — you let all those worries slip away.
taylor sits beside you, her body shifted towards you slightly. her fingers pluck at each string as she adjusts them to perfect tuning. the only light in the room elicits from the crackling fire contained in the fire place.
taylor looks up from her guitar to smile shyly at you, “this is a song i wrote last night, so it’s not perfect but i hope you like it.”
you tilt your head as you pet the cats beside you. taylor looks back down at her guitar and clears her throat, plucking at the soft chords before softly singing. “our coming of age has come and gone. suddenly the summer, it’s clear. i never had the courage of my convictions. as long as danger is near.”
you listen intently with a soft smile, watching her fingers skillfully move across the wood guitar with perfected ease.
“i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm. if your cascade ocean wave blues come. all these people think love’s for show, but i would die for you in secret.” she sings out, looking you right in the eyes for those specific lyrics.
she suddenly stops playing and swallows, looking at you with anticipation. you breath in as you take in the moment, analyzing the lyrics she just sang to you.
“those last lyrics are… something.” you breath out with a small nervous laugh.
taylor lets out a small chuckle and softens her gaze on you, “it’s true though. i’ve thought about my feelings for the past week.” she starts. “about my feelings for you specifically. this whole thing started for the public but getting to know you and experiencing your kindness has made me fall in love.”
your eyebrows raise slightly but you stay silent, letting her continue. “i want to be able to love you behind the cameras and public. and a part of me thinks you want that too.” she finishes.
with a smile gracing your lips you giggle, “taylor i’ve been in love with you since we started this stupid PR relationship.”
taylor lets out a breath of relief and sets the guitar aside. “well, that’s great news. if you rejected me i probably would’ve shit my pants.”
you bark out a laugh and lean forward, your face just inches away from hers. you glance from her pale blue eyes to her soft plump lips that you’ve only had the pleasure of kissing twice in front of paparazzi. “well, are you gonna kiss me for real or should i call some paparazzi to come get content?” you joke.
taylor rolls her eyes, “shut up you dork.”
and with that she kisses you softly but passionately. you hum and you lean in further, resting your hands on her thighs. she grabs onto the back of your head to get better control.
before you can protest she lifts you to straddle her as she lays back against the soft rug. she pulls away from the kiss and looks up at you with complete and utter love in her eyes.
you bite your lip to contain obnoxious giggles and glance over at the curled up cats. you glance back to taylor who looks over feature on your face. “let’s get to bed, tay.”
she nods and lets you drag her to bed where you fall asleep in each others arms for the first time in your 1 year relationship.
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cosmicbucky · 6 months
Note
A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....
Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.
And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.
He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.
Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP
hi, lovely! 💫
first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!
second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.
i hope you enjoy!
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matches
pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader
word count: 3974
warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!
please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic
a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 
You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 
Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 
You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 
You never knew. 
You never actually met him.
All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 
Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 
You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 
You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 
Until the day you finally met Bucky. 
It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 
You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 
It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 
You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 
All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 
By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 
A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 
Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 
"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 
"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 
His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 
"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 
"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."
You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."
"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 
"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.
"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 
"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.
"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."
You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 
So, you agreed. 
And that's how everything started. 
You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 
Only yourself. 
When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 
Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 
Except for when it came to Bucky. 
You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.
When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 
Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 
You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 
It was driving Bucky crazy.
From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 
He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 
Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 
He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 
The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 
He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.
You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 
With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 
Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 
You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 
“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 
A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 
“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 
You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 
“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 
“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 
He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 
“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 
You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 
“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 
“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 
You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 
“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”
“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 
“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 
“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”
“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”
“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 
“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”
“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 
“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 
“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”
“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 
“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 
“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 
“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 
“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 
“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 
Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 
"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 
You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 
He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.
"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 
You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 
He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 
"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 
"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 
"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 
"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 
"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 
"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 
"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 
"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 
"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 
"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 
"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 
You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 
He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 
"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 
"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 
"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 
"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 
"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 
"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 
You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 
Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 
You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 
He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.
Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.
So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 
"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  
You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 
He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 
"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.
"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 
You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 
"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 
And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 
You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months
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I know you probably JUST posted the FNAF Movie request where the reader possesses Sparky, but after reading it this idea popped into my head and I need to get it out there.
Could we have a sort of continuation of the 'Sparky reader' fic that takes place towards the finale of the movie? The idea I had is that after Abby helps the animatronics remember that it was William Afton who killed them, the reader actually joins up with the others in confronting him. Additionally, William is shocked because he wasn't expecting the reader to have also possessed an animatronic, let alone that they would have command over the others (he probably thought he was the only one with that kind of power).
👀
The first Sparky!Reader part
........
"Look at you...look at the nasty things that you have become! Look at how small you are! How worthless you are!! You are wretched, rotten little beasts! I MADE YOU!!!"
Even as William shouted angrily at the animatronics, pounding a gloved fist against his chest, he realized how quickly he was losing his ability to keep them in line.
Thanks to that brat showing them the truth in a stupid drawing--which proved that he, the yellow bunny they once trusted, was the cause of all their pain--they didn't obey him anymore.
Now he couldn't control them like he used to.
No longer were they blindly singing and dancing to his tune.
Because they finally remembered what really happened that day.
He then heard another pair of heavy footsteps, and from the darkness emerged a character he had almost entirely forgotten about:
Sparky.
But how was he moving? And why?
William swore that mutt was sitting in the backstage area, deactivated and unable to walk freely.
It was impossible.
Unless....
"Of course..I figured you would have woken up eventually, too." He chuckled weakly, taunting you all. "So what's your plan now? To kill me? Shove me into a suit like you did to those poor people?! Well you can't...because I know how you all think!! I'm smarter than you!!"
"No. You are a fool, Afton. It isn't us who will kill you."
His laughter ceased upon hearing your disembodied voice speaking to him, and he froze for a moment, bewildered by what you had said.
It was extremely unnerving to learn that your ghost could even talk to him at all, considering the other children have been silent.
What made you so special?
Unfortunately for him, he realized far too late what you meant by those words...as he noticed you gesturing to Chica, who sent her Cupcake after him.
It lunged with a growl, biting into the torso of his suit and not letting go.
He grabbed onto it, struggling to tear the feral little bastard off of him, not knowing that would be the last mistake he ever made.
When he finally managed to toss the Cupcake away from him, it took a chunk of the suit's fabric with it, exposing part of the springlock endoskeleton underneath.
And without any material for the mechanisms to stay compressed against...
They snapped, one bar stabbing into his side and sinking deep into his flesh, blood leaking through his shirt almost immediately.
With a gasp of pain, William collapsed to his knees as the springlocks continued to puncture him one by one--with you and the other animatronics simply staring him down, watching him endure the same torment he brought upon each of you.
None of your suits were made from springlocks, of course...but now he, too, will know what it's like to be encased inside a tomb of fabric and metal forever.
He scrambled for the Springbonnie head that laid beside him, only to see your brown paws snatch it off the ground.
You kept his above his head, just barely within his reach.
All he did was stare into your glowing red eyes, shocked at the commanding presence you held over his creations. He had no idea how you got them to follow your lead so easily.
Yet despite knowing that he lost, he refused to lie down and show any sort of fear.
Instead a grin appeared on his sweaty face, each exhaled breath growing more strained than the last.
And before you shoved the Springbonnie head onto him, forever sealing him inside his tomb, he made one final haunting declaration:
"I always come back."
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futurecorps3 · 11 months
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Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.
Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞
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Masterlist<3
Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader
Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.
Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes
A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)
˚ · • . °
Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.
How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?
When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.
Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.
Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.
They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.
His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.
"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.
"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.
Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.
Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.
The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."
Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".
˚ · • . °
She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.
Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.
He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.
If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.
Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.
"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.
She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.
The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.
"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.
Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.
Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.
"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.
Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.
Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.
Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.
This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.
So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.
After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.
"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.
The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.
A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.
"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".
˚ · • . °
And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.
As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.
Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.
"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.
As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.
They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.
She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.
Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.
Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.
They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.
˚ · • . °
Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.
In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.
Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.
He just hated that feeling.
It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.
And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.
The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.
"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"
The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.
˚ · • . °
Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.
He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.
He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.
He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.
He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.
He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.
He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.
Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.
˚ · • . ° .
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Changes
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What do you do when the person you once were becomes the person you miss being the most?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, no smut in this I'm sorry pls still read it :( there's some tension tho!!
Length: 6.5k words
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"Thanks for picking him up." Taehyung sighs, his son happily in the living room, taking a nap from school as he tucks himself in on the couch while his favorite show plays on the TV.
"I would've asked her, you know, but I feel like I'm relying too much on her again." The young father sighs. "I'm basically treating her the same as I did years ago, just without the pay."
"I heard about that." Jungkook says, drinking his coffee at the kitchen table where he sits across Taehyung. "She used to nanny while you lived separately from your wife, I think it was." He hums, setting his cup down. Jungkook isn't on bad terms with Taehyung's wife- but he tends to not say her name, because he honestly harbors quite a bit of distaste towards the woman who refuses to properly take care of her own child.
"Well don't you seem to know a bit about her now." Taehyung squints his eyes in suspicion. "What happened to 'she's too young for me anyways' huh?" He teases, and Jungkook sighs.
"Well, things.. happened. And we talked." He shrugs. "We're not.. really a couple, but we agreed to spend time with one another." He explains.
"So you're friends with benefits?" He wonders, drinking his tea while Jungkook leans back.
"No." He shakes his head, even though deep down, it does kind of feel like that to him, now that he thinks about it a bit more. "It's.. a bit more complicated than that. We're simply talking, seeing where it goes." He says.
"Hmhm." Tae nods. "Just don't break her heart. I still got basically nightmares from her last relationship." He mumbles a bit angrily to himself, clearly a bit irritated even just by the thought of it.
"I.. wondered what happened." Jungkook says. "Dae said he was a drinker?" He wonders, and Taehyung nods.
"Drinker, druggie, abusive asshole." He huffs, crossing his arms. "It's the main reason she moved away when Daehyun was younger. She wanted to protect him- make sure he won't get hurt."
"Was he violent?" Jungkook wants to know, because honestly, he has a hunch that that might've been the case. Taehyung seems on edge now, clearly torn between probably saying the truth, and respecting your privacy. "I was intending to ask her anyways. But she seems like the type to downplay her problems in order to make things seem less serious, so I thought you might be more honest." He adds.
"Yeah, she is like that." Tae agrees softly. "I'm not too sure what exactly went down. But I do know that she.. distanced herself out of fear that Daehyun might get hurt." He tells his friend. "Greg started to pick her up every time she'd babysit Daehyun at my house, even after I told him I didn't like that. He still did, still argued, turned up drunk multiple times at my doorstep." The young father remembers. "I kept her with me, of course. I'd never let her drive home with that alcoholic- but I guess something must've happened because she just.. suddenly cut contact." He shrugs. "Sent me a text, changed her number, moved out her old apartment."
"When did she come back?" Jungkook wonders.
"According to Yoongi, a few weeks before the aftershow party." Taehyung responds.
"So that's why you didn't recognize her?" He figures, and Tae nods.
"She changed a lot. Not just visually. She's.." His eyes lower to the cup in his hand. "..a lot more quiet. Cautious. Jumpy." He informs his friend. "And at the same time, she seems to mask a lot of it- get's irritated easily. She's trying to be who she was, but it's obvious that something changed, and whenever someone notices, she becomes defensive."
Jungkook doesn't really know what to think. Looking at Daehyun on the couch, he can absolutely understand your standpoint back then to get away from Taehyung's family in order to protect them- but that means there must have been at least some form of fear against your former partner to make you believe that he could potentially be a danger to the young boy and his father. It could also just be jealousy, of course- but Taehyung is right. You are a little odd sometimes.
And he doesn't know if he wants to know exactly why, or if he wants to let sleeping dogs rest.
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Jungkook leans back in his office chair, headache already almost too unbearable to him, especially considering the woman who's making her way up in the giant corporate building to see him.
She wants money again, he knows it. Evelyn only ever visits him if there's something she wants, after all.
"One might argue they'd know me by now." Evelyn huffs as she enters the office, hair a bit wet as she throws her coat over the chair in front of his desk, before she sits down. "How're you doing?" She wonders, and Jungkook doesn't look away from his laptop's screen whatsoever, still looking through his e-mails. He doesn't have to put too many thoughts into this conversation after all- she's most likely just here to leech off of him again.
"Cut it." He simply says. "What do you want?" He asks, phone on his desk vibrating and chiming with a new notification.
'I can just drop something off for you? I just got off work myself, so it's no hassle.' your message reads, an answer to a former rant from him about his headache, and the fact that he's 'locked in like a dog' in his office and without any proper food ever since this morning. It makes him softly smile a little, the fact that you want to bring him something to eat even though you're probably exhausted from your shift as well is something he's not used to. And he didn't even have to ask for it.
'Only if it's really not an issue for you' his answer reads, and you send a thumbs-up emoji as an answer, before you finish typing your proper answer.
'DW, is anything okay or do you want something specific?' you question, and he immediately types a response.
'Just whatever, really. Nothing too spicy though, please.' he offers, when a hand knocks on the table in front of him, the woman in his office dragging him back into reality with force. He signs, locks his phone before he puts it down, opening a chat with the front desk downstairs to let them know to bring you up when you arrive.
"You know, this was always the issue, Jungkook." Evelyn whines, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "You're so consumed by your work, it's crazy." She shakes her head.
"That wasn't work, actually." He bites back with a monotone voice, not really offering her any emotion whatsoever- there's nothing left in him anymore he could offer anyways. She took it all, sucked it out of him like an insect, and now she's constantly upset that he's empty inside.
"Anyways, I got this letter recently stating that there was an issue with the bank transfer?" She says, giving him the letter to read- which he does, flying over it just to remember why that bank transfer did not go through. "I told them that they'll get their money by friday." She hums, leaning her face on her palm while he gives her the letter back.
"What do I have to do with it then?" He asks, and she sits upright again, tilting her head a bit in irritation. "You said they'll get their money by friday. Good. Why are you here then?" He asks, arms crossed, office chair squeaking a bit as he leans back into it.
"Well, it's your bank account!" She laughs a bit unsure. "I don't even know why there was apparently not a sufficient balance on it." She argues.
"I resigned the automatic transfer rights." Jungkook tells her, face not moving an inch as he breaks the news. "The letter doesn't mention an insufficient balance at all, Evelyn. It states that there's no bank account set for the automated transfer option at all." He informs her.
"What the fuck Jungkook?!" She barks. "And you didn't even tell me?!" She yells, standing up to slap her hands on his desk. "You can't just make these changes and not inform me about it! Do you know how expensive that was?!" She accuses, and he shrugs, noticing something move behind her, milky glass front of his office hiding what's going on inside and outside, only letting shadows be seen if someone's close enough. "I'll text you the invoice later, and you better fucking pay, you asshole!" She says, when she whips her head around, someone opening the glass door.
"Thanks." You tell the office lady having let you in, before your eyes widen, door closing behind you and instantly drowning out all noise except the very slight sound of the fan in the corner of the room.
"Ah, there you are." Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling a lot lighter as he looks at you. "Come here- is it still raining a lot?" He wonders easily, taking the white plastic bag from you to set it on his table, before giving you a small hug to greet you. "I think that was all you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks Evelyn, who hasn't even gotten up from her seat, instead clearly studying you now.
"Actually, no." She tells him. "And it's kind of private, so it would be real nice if your assistant would leave." She tells you with a smile that reminds you of a snarling dog.
"Then come back a different day." Jungkook answers her however, offering to take your coat from you to hang next to his own on the wall close to the large windows. "Right now I'm really not in the mood for whatever it might be. Especially not with my girlfriend in the room." He bluntly says, and something seems to flash over her face at the mention of your alleged role in his life.
She slowly stands up to take her coat from the back of the chair, movements a lot slower now, a glare sent into your direction. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart." Evelyn tells you, slipping into the sleeves of her coat. "His first love will always stay his job." She almost threatens, before she takes her purse and leaves through the door, leaving a confused you, and a clearly exhausted Jungkook behind.
"Please, sit down." He offers, and you do so, watching how he leans back in his chair, hands running over his face before he sits up again. "I'm sorry. That timing couldn't have been worse." He sighs.
"Ah, here. Do you have water here?" You wonder, and he nods, pointing towards a water dispenser in the room. "Oh, fancy." You laugh, walking up to fill a cup to put in front of him. "I take them myself, they usually help really quickly. Not trying to murder you." You tease, and he chuckles, taking the medication and the cup for himself.
"Thank you, really." He sighs out before taking the pill, washing it down with half of the cup's contents before he closes his eyes for a moment. "God I hate her so much." He suddenly breaks out laughing, before he shakes his head, digging through what you've bought for him.
"I assume that was your ex wife?" You wonder, and he nods.
"I'm also really sorry for telling her you're my girlfriend when we haven't even talked about that yet." He tells you a bit.. shyly almost, while you pull the bag closer to take something out for yourself.
"It's fine." You shrug. "Got a nice ring to it, you know?" You joke, and he smiles, starting to eat.
It's quiet, but not oddly so. He enjoys this a lot, this company without any pressure, no eerie sense of something being about to happen. You're clearly here because you want to be, there's nothing you want from him, nothing you need, nothing you could gain from this. It's just what it is, nothing else, nothing to red between the lines.
"You can ask why she was here, by the way." He offers you, wiping his mouth with a tissue.
"I don't have to know." You say, however. "It's got nothing to do with me- right?" You ask, and he nods. "Then it's none of my business. You can rant to me about it, sure, but I can't really give you any opinions on it since I don't really know her, or the situation around you and her." You tell him.
Jungkook watches you for a moment, before he nods. "You're right." He agrees, letting go of the topic entirely for now. He know it's only fair to talk to you about it at some point- but right now is not the time for that, he decides. "Do you want me to drive you home later? I really only have to answer this one E-mail and then I can clock out." He tells you between bites, wiping his fingers before he taps away on his keyboard.
"If it's not a bother, sure." You shrug. "You said you got the weekend off, right?" You ask him, and he nods a bit absentmindedly. "Then how about you stay over?" You ask, and that definitely seems to catch his attention.
"Stay over?" He asks, just to make sure he heard it correctly, and you nod.
"Yeah." You nod. "It's, you know, what boyfriends do with their girlfriends." You tease, making him roll his eyes. "We could cook something, watch a movie. Oh, and one of the lightbulbs in my kitchen broke, so maybe you could fix that for me?" You chirp, and he suddenly smiles brightly to himself, clicking something on his laptop before he shuts it down. "What's that grin for, mister?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.
"Nothing, really." He tells you. "I'm just really happy." He confesses, and you smile the same, now a bit shy.
"Well, what's your answer then?" You wonder, watching him pack the leftovers back into the bag, before he walks to get both his and your jackets, helping you into yours.
"My answer is yes." He says, voice very close to your ear as he leans over your shoulder from behind you, hands on your arms for a second. "I'd love to stay over and fix that lightbulb too, of course.-"
"Since I heard that's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends."
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"There we go." He says, slowly climbing down the plastic kitchen chair you're holding onto just in case. "Anything else while I'm here?" He genuinely asks, and you shake your head, moving the chair back to the small kitchen table.
"No, that was all. Thank you, really." You say, before you move to open the fridge, taking out some things while he stands around with his hands in his pockets. Your apartment is pretty small- living in it together with you would most likely prove to be way too much, but he still thinks it's better than his own, in terms of.. quality.
His own home feels empty. There's nothing in it, it's way too big for a single person, and the view from so high up above the clouds has long lost it's charm to him.
He sits down at the kitchen table, leaning on it a little as he watches you wash some vegetables before you grab a cutting board and a knife. "Daehyun said you're a little lonely without your dog." He says, and you giggle a little, smiling to yourself. "Have you considered getting another one?" He wonders, but you just shrug.
"I'm too busy at the moment." You deny. "I used to bring him to work with me, since he was a very quiet and calm dog, which fit perfect into our office." You remember. "He'd always sleep under my desk, right on my feet. Always kept them warm." You softly say, and he notices that he might've struck a still hurtful topic if only from the sound of your voice becoming somewhat tighter.
"I can imagine. I always wanted a dog too-" He sighs, leaning back. "But.. Evelyn, the woman you saw today, she doesn't like them. So it was out of the question."
"Really?" You wonder, cutting up the vegetables. "I mean, I guess, if both of you were really busy then it probably was for the best." You hum, tension leaving you again. "Gotta look at the bigger picture."
"Yeah, maybe it was for the best." He agrees. To be honest, Evelyn would've probably fought over the dog as well, just like she did over the apartment, and other more petty things like fucking furniture. She wanted to ruin him, if financially then emotionally, and somehow, she somewhat did.
It's quiet again, when you, surprisingly to him, cut into a topic he did not expect.
"His name was Greg." You say, filling a small pot with water before you place it on the stove, turning it on. "You probably talked about him with Taehyung."
"I did." He admits. "But there's not much I know." He offers. "And like you said about my situation, I don't have to know about things that don't concern me. However-" He begins, getting up to now stand closer, find your gaze that's turned downwards onto the cutting board. "-I don't want to accidentally do something that might make you uncomfortable due to past experiences." He says.
"What a tactful way to ask me if I've got any trauma from that guy." You chuckle, moving to put the cut up vegetables in a bowl before you continue the preparations for dinner.
"I'm trying to be gentle here." He attempts to lighten up the mood, and you indeed smile at that.
"And I'm very thankful for that." You offer him, before you sigh, setting down the knife. "I don't.. think we're at a point where I should be dumping all of what happened onto you." You inform him, and he nods, accepting that. "I don't like yelling. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll probably try and get myself out of a situation by any means necessary-" you admit, turning a little to look at him. "-and that will probably include some nasty words thrown your way, if that get's you away from me." You tell him. "And I don't like alcohol. Even if you hand me full on medical evidence that you can't even get drunk, the moment I smell it- I just can't trust you." You say, and he nods.
"Alright, I respect that." He nods.
"I'll also get pretty clingy over time." You add on, making him nod. "And I can be annoying. I'll text you a lot." You continue, and a small smile sneaks itself onto his lips as he shrugs, crossing his arms. "The moment you invite me into your home I'll practically steal half of your closet contents-"
"Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you grow quiet, eyes avoiding him. "I'm obsessed with my work." He begins his own rant, standing up to walk closer to you. "I never have time for anything else. I'm boring. Sometimes rude, and immature. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm also lazy. I snore, and I work out too much to the point where I'm sweating buckets. I'm a little messy." He tells you, hugging you from behind, though not very intimately- giving you a clear way out if you so want to.
"…is that what she told you?" You answer, and he smiles.
"Let's just agree on getting to know each other just the way we are, not the way someone else described us in the past." He offers, and you nod.
"Alright." You hum, before you push him a little playfully. "Now go and let me cook in here, boyfriend." You tease, making him grin impishly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he does not walk away from behind you, hands now flat on your ass. "Hey!"
"What? I'm out of your way like this." He tells you almost innocently, hands moving to hold your waist now.
"Sit down there and let me cook!" You laugh.
"But we wanted to cook together, no?" He wonders. "Like.. boyfriend and girlfriend." He leans his chin on your shoulder.
"Well, boyfriends let their girlfriends cook in peace." You threaten, making him chuckle as his fingers squeeze your hips a bit.
"Not if their girlfriend is this attractive." He purrs, making you roll your eyes.
"Jungkook…" You wonder, suddenly way more serious, making his stand up straight again so you can face him. "Is.. that what we are now?" You ask, and his lips part for a second, unsure of his own answer. "I mean, it's fine if we're just playing around. Just.. I'm scared that we might end up in some.. unnecessary drama down the line if we're blurring the lines too much without properly discussing things first." You say.
"What do you mean?" He asks, and you sigh.
"What if you end up calling me.. your girlfriend just as a joke? But I start believing it at some point- thinking we are something serious when we're not. Or the other way around." You explain. "I don't want us to get hurt again. Neither of us."
Jungkook takes a deep breath, and from this close proximity, you can make out two odd dots near his bottom lip you're not too sure of. You might ask him about them some other time.
"Let me take time off of work. Next week, three days." He offers, catching you off guard. "Let's go on a trip. Together. Someplace no one knows us, and we don't know either." He tells you.
"I mean- I would've had friday and the weekend off anyways but-"
"Okay, great, perfect. I'll cancel my Friday meetings." He tells you, hands moving- at first, they seem to attempt to hold your cheeks- but it's like that feels too intimate yet, so he settles for your shoulders. "Let's get to know each other. The real you and me that got.. buried at some point." He offers.
"Why on a trip?" You ask.
"Because it's perfect." He chuckles. "Close proximity of the hotel room we'll share, stress of navigating the unfamiliar environment, the tension of not being able to just 'escape' any uncomfortable situation right away forcing us to talk things out as they happen-" He begins, and your mouth shapes an 'o' as you realize what he's talking about.
"It's a stress-test." You say, and he nods, grinning.
"Exactly." He nods.
"…to be honest you're already stressing me out." You jokingly reply-
Jungkook laughing, and you have a feeling he's not done that in a long time, with the way his ears turn red and his hand covers his mouth in embarrassment of that outburst.
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When Taehyung opens the door, he instantly greets his son who Jungkook has put down the moment he'd noticed the young father arriving at the front door to let him in.
"Oh wow." Taehyung laughs as Jungkook walks in, almost nervously running a hand through his hair. "Is the world ending? Apocalypse? Or am I high?" He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes. "No, seriously! I didn't even know you could still put those piercings back in!" He laughs, taking Dae's school backpack to take out his lunchbox so he can sort out the leftovers and wrappers from his snacks.
"It was a bit tricky, I won't lie." He laughs a little. "But they didn't really close all that much since I had them for so long, so it wasn't a big deal." He shrugs.
"What's the occasion?" Tae wonders, throwing the wrappers of Daehyun's snacks in the trash. "You most certainly don't look like you're gonna go to a meeting like that. What happened to 'I'm not in my twenties anymore' huh?" He jokes.
"I'm honestly not sure." He answers, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Just.. felt like it. And I'm not going to the office- I took time off." He confesses.
"Okay, are you running a fever?" Taehyung asks, and Jungkook laughs to himself. "Are you gonna meet up with your.. friend?" He air-quotes, and Jungkook nods, checking the silver watch on his wrist.
"Yeah- we're meeting up later, she's currently packing her things last thing she texted me." He nods. "Our flight is in about three hours from now, but it's her first time flying, so we wanted to be there a bit early just in case." Jungkook shrugs.
"Oh, fancy." Taehyung laughs. "Why though?" He wonders, washing the colorful lunchbox of his son in the sink.
"Stress testing." Jungkook offers. "We just want to see if we can handle each other under pressure." He says, and Taehyung sighs.
"My god Jungkook, can you just once try and not make everything more complicated than it has to be?" He worries. "Just spend time with her. Go out for a coffee or something, watch a shitty movie at home and let her suck you off during the commercial break or something, you know, like NORMAL people!" He whines. "You're acting as if this is some million-dollar business discussion. It's really not." He huffs out in frustration. "Listen, I know Eve fucked you over bad, and honestly you've always had a shit-taste in women to begin with because holy fuck if I think back to Lucy-"
"Can you get to the point?" Jungkook complains, a little embarrassed as his friend brings up his admittedly terrible dating history.
"-yeah, sorry." He laughs. "But, trust me-" Taehyung says, drying his hands before he puts them on his friend's shoulders. "-she's honestly perfect for you. Once you help her get her confidence back up, trust me, you've got yourself someone who's not a raging cunt for once." He finishes his rant, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.
"You think?" He worries, and Taehyung nods.
"I do." He says, patting his friend's back before he leads him to his front door. "Be yourself. And I mean, your real self. Be that goofy dude who cries during disney movies and folds his laundry to Depeche Mode at 3 am."
"Why would I do that?" Jungkook cringes, thinking his friend is joking- but he's surprised to find Taehyung with a soft gaze instead, an encouraging smile on his lips.
"Because that's the Jungkook I know." He offers, a somber look on his face.
"And I miss him."
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"Let me take that." He offers, taking the suitcase from you. It's small, scratched up, and he can't help but notice the stickers on it. "You good to go?" He wonders, and you nod, closing the door before locking it, walking next to him out the apartment building towards his by now familiar car, his own luggage already in the trunk where he puts yours now as well.
The moment you sit next to him inside, is when you notice how.. different he is today. Not only from looks alone- but it feels different, oddly enough. Lighter. Not as serious as he usually is. "I wondered what those.. spots were." You say, looking at him from the passenger side, and he raises his brows while stopping at a red light, turning his head towards you, who points to your own lower lip.
"Ah, yeah." He chuckles, a bit bashful. "I.. got them done in my early twenties. Took them out though, because.. I don't know." He shrugs.
"You don't know, of do you just realize that the reason was stupid?" You giggle, and he sighs, with a smile on his lips however.
"Caught me." He confesses, changing lanes as he makes his way to the airport.
"Why'd you put them back in?" You ask, leaning against the car door a bit.
"Because I wanted to be myself." He explains. "I.. like I said. I want you to get to know me. And not the person I became to please others around me." He tells you.
"I assume your.. ex wife didn't like the piercings?" You ask, testing how far you can pry into his past and how much you can poke until he tells you off. But much to your surprise, he seems rather unfazed by the topic.
"She hated my tattoos as well. Wanted me to get them removed constantly." He chuckles, and you're intrigued.
"You've got tattoos as well?" You ask, and he nods.
"Maybe I'll let you see them later?" He flirts, and you grin to yourself, adjusting your legs a little as you stay quiet. "Either way, Evelyn didn't like a lot about me."
"Then why did she marry you?" You ask, noticing too late how mean that question could come off.
"Probably for my bank account." He simply laughs. "I was.. stupid. I thought she was fixing me." He shakes his head. "I thought she only had my best interest in mind." He says, setting his turn lights to enter the airport parking area. "But she always hated me. Still does." He sighs, searching for a proper parking spot.
"Well, I don't hate you." You tell him.
"Yet." He mumbles, before he finally parks the car, turning off the engine. "Do you have your passport and everything on hand? Don't wanna have to unpack everything in a rush later at check-in." He tries to change the topic, but you look at him with eyes so soft that he becomes scared of them.
"Jungkook." You say his name, and he hates how kind it sounds. "As long as you're not like him, I won't hate you. Honestly, I don't even hate him." You tell him, and he nods a bit stiffly, before practically escaping the car, instead putting on his jacket before helping you take out your suitcase and handbag.
Inside the airport, he notices your nervousness, hand constantly reaching out but never holding on to him at all, in any way. It makes him chuckle a little as he watches you fight with yourself for quite a while, before he helps you check in.
You're clearly a bit overstimulated by everything going on around you, looking around anxiously, biting the inside of your lips constantly, even as you both sit down to wait for your gate to open for boarding. "Hey-" He reaches out to tug your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before he smiles in reassurance. "Okay?" He wonders, and you nod, though you're not looking at him. "Come here. You can hold onto me, by the way, if that helps you." Jungkook suggests, and you move your arms to wrap around one of his, body scooting closer to lean your face against his shoulder, sweater soft against your skin. He moves his arm around your shoulders to keep you closer, hand offering itself for you to hold instead, and you do so, fingers cold. "What's that scar?" He wonders, thumb running over a faint scar over the palm of your hand.
"A shoelace." You say, a little quietly.
"A shoelace?" He repeats, and you nod.
"Yeah." You confirm. "I had.. I was in the midst of changing the laces of.. Gregory's boots, because the dog had chewed them. But he got mad anyways, and pulled them out of my hand." You remember. "It happened really quickly, but I remember that it hurt badly." You chuckle. "It was an odd pain. Like my body couldn't decide whether or not I was burned or cut."
Jungkooks hand on your shoulder starts to move a little in a soothing motion, fingers circling around. It's his first confirmation that something did indeed happen, and he's almost convinced that what you just told him was probably not an isolated incident, but simply one of many that went down during your entire relationship.
"I didn't want him to get mad at Yogi. He already hated the poor dog enough." You sigh, closing your eyes as you settle against Jungkook's side. He enjoys this close proximity, the domestic feel of this moment, even though it's out in public and for everyone to see. He doesn't care.
"You can heal with me, you know?" He says, and you look up at him from where you're leaning against his body. "I can't promise you that.. our time spent will be all smooth sailing, but I can assure you that it will be nothing like what you've experienced." He hums towards you.
And you smile warmly, sighing. "Don't worry-" you giggle, closing your eyes.
"-It already is."
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The hotel room is spacious, expensive looking, nothing like you've seen before.
Usually, you only really get to see things like these on vacation photos your friends show you- you yourself don't really travel, you technically don't take time off at all, rather always asking to have your off-days paid out instead if possible. You've got no reason to treat yourself with anything, be it time off or a full on vacation.
Your sense of self worth has shriveled up like rotten fruit over the years, now thrown out like the garbage it is.
Jungkook meanwhile clearly has a routine in him, as he walks through every room first to check if everything's okay, just to then place his bag somewhere near the bed, a big yawn escaping him as he opens the balcony door wide, letting the air of the seaside in. It's odd to see him dressed rather casual, simple but expensive sweater stretching over his broad back. His face still shows the clear stress he's accumulated, and it makes you wonder.
"Do you.. go on vacations often?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.
"No, usually I only fly out for business trips." He explains, watching you sit on the edge of the twin-sized bed. "I originally thought I should book two single beds, by the way. I just.. thought it might be more intimate like this." He tells you, leaning against the small balcony's edge outside, glass door open, as the wind blows through the curtains a little.
"It's okay like this." You nod, making him smile softly.
"Do you want to rest a little?" He asks, and you shrug, unsure. You only have three days- if you sleep now, it's probably annoying to him since he most likely planned something on this trip for you both to do. He at least comes across as someone who likes to have everything set out and structured- not like you, who dives in head first without any real plan. You don't want him to stay hidden inside the hotel room just because you're tired from the flight. "Hey." He asks, and you didn't even notice him squatting down in front of where you sit, his hands on your knees as he finds your eyes from where he's looking up at you. "Don't hesitate to speak your mind. If we want this to work, we need honestly, first and foremost." He encourages, and you nod.
"I'm tired- but I don't want to be boring." You worry.
"How would taking a nap be boring?" he chuckles. "I'm actually glad you're tired. I didn't want to come off as an old man who needs a break because he can't keep up." He laughs, standing up before he moves to lay down on the bed, patting the spot right next to him.
You lay down where he wordlessly suggested, taking in a deep breath while focusing your eyes on the collar of his sweater for a moment. It's when your gaze roams around that you notice something poke out on his wrist as he turns back around from removing his watch from the other arm. Your fingers curiously lift the fabric of the sleeve, making him chuckle quietly, before he moves to push the fabric up to his elbow, exposing different colors of ink underneath his skin.
What was Jungkook like when he was younger? Has he always been somewhat like this- or has he changed into this instead?
"Got them done in my early twenties too." He explains quietly. "Just.. lineart at first. Black and white." Jungkook remembers as he watches you trace some of the lines with your finger. "Then it got more. Over time, it looked a little messy- so I added color to it, this time actually going to a professional who specifies in forming sleeves." He tells you.
"Do you regret them?" You wonder. "Like.. your piercings and your tattoos?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"It's not like I regret them." He denies. "I still like the look of them. The aesthetic of it. It's just.." He sighs, inked hand turning around palm up, and you put your own on top of his, making him move to compare your hand sizes palm to palm. "..they don't feel like me anymore." He shrugs.
"Maybe because they aren't." You offer, now holding his hand with both of yours, your eyes on the blurred ink underneath the skin. "Maybe.. you changed. Even though you didn't want to."
He did. He knows that he did- but what he struggles with, is the question if he can even go back now. He wants to, but at this point, he feels like he's crossed that line by now, too far to step back and take a different path. Most people around him nowadays only now this Jungkook, not the one he used to be. If he just reverts back to who he once was, will he lose every friendship and connection he's made after he married?
Marriage. The moment he changed.
Love can make someone truly blind to a lot of things. He overlooked so many warning signs, pushed old friends and even family away just because they saw what he did not- or more so refused to. He's not spoken to his own parents in years, by now too ashamed to admit that he'd been wrong for the entirety of his past relationship, that his mother was right about her. What would she think about you?
She'd like you, he's very sure about that. His father would probably be a little suspicious of the age gab, and his brother would most likely tease the living daylights out of him, but he knows you'd fit right in. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? What would they think of him?
He wants to ask you, but the moment he becomes aware and snaps out of his thoughts, your eyes are already closed, breathing even. You're still holding onto him, and he realizes that he's never actually had a moment like this with Evelyn in the past, not even when they were just a regular couple, and definitely not after they got married. He feels.. free. No pressure on him, no obligations awaiting him, nothing needed or expected from him. You're simply sleeping, and yet the act itself makes his pride swell, because of your display of trust towards him.
He knows you've been hurt. He knows that he's been hurt-
And maybe, just maybe, together, you can finally begin heal.
Change once more, for a final time, into a happier version of yourselves.
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greenlikethesea · 1 year
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@sparklyslug and I commissioned the incredible @mardyart to draw a pivotal scene from our fic, Three Weddings and a Funeral, a part in our currently sprawling universe Let us Dwell in Fair Ithilien and There Make a Garden. For those who have read, you might recognize this as a scene from the third chapter, post [redacted] funeral, where Steve and Eddie have a conversation in the Byers-Hopper kitchen about what is deserved.
Thank you so much for this beautiful art, Mardy. We’re so unbelievably thrilled with the finished product, and we couldn’t be happier. You’re the best!
Referenced fic excerpt under the cut, for context!
 “Oh Joyce, love of my life,” Eddie says to himself, removing several pints of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and lining them up on the kitchen counter. Without even asking Steve for his preference, he wordlessly hands Steve the almost full pint of Cherry Garcia. He just knows which one is his favorite, apparently, which shouldn’t surprise Steve as much as it does. “Do you think it’s too soon to propose to her?”
 “I see your stance on asking people out at funerals has changed,” Steve remarks, ignoring the swoop in his stomach at Eddie’s (playful, completely not serious, Joyce is their mom) suggestion.
 “First of all, post-funeral is fair game,” Eddie says as he gets out two bowls and two spoons; he, like Steve, knows this kitchen like the back of his hand. Even knows where to find a jar of apparently unopened maraschino cherries, theatrically blowing the dust off the lid into Steve’s face, who in return theatrically coughs and gags. After a slight pause, he takes the pint of Cherry Garcia out of Steve’s hand and sets to making a little sundae for him. Steve can only dumbly watch as Eddie gives him two scoops and presses down on them so they’re a little softer, just how Steve likes it, adding a brusquely effective swirl of whipped cream, cherries on top, before handing it back to him. In Steve’s professional opinion, it’s a Scoops Ahoy-worthy performance. Makes him kind of wish the outfit was involved, mmm.
 “Secondly,” Eddie says, Steve doing a quick mental scramble away from the vision of Eddie in blue striped shorts and back towards whatever the hell they had been talking about, “I’m pretty sure a sexless marriage is out of the question for her, so it would be a swift no.” He’s less formal with his own ice cream prep, simply jamming a spoon into his own tub (Phish Food, which is just so typically him), whipped cream and cherries apparently forgotten.
 “She deserves better than that,” Steve says now, years later, chasing a stray cherry around the side of his bowl with his spoon. “And so do you.”
 Eddie gives Steve a look, a little bit of humor and a little bit of apprehension and a bit of evaluation. And something so unsurprised, too, a kind of fond      Jesus H Christ, of course smile manifesting just through the shadow of a dimple, not quite making itself entirely seen.
 “I know,” Eddie says simply. The quiet confidence of a man who does know what he deserves, does know that he can and should be desired. Treasured. And get what he wants. And who is, maybe, a little surprised that Steve knows that too.
 Steve pops the maraschino cherry between his teeth, flavor exploding at the back of his tongue, just this shy of too syrupy-sweet, as he looks at Eddie’s face. He can feel it coming in, then. The way he’s heard that the water pulls all the way back far as the eye can see, before a tsunami comes rushing back in. Has a sense of what’s heading his way, in the time that it takes for Eddie to shake his head ruefully and continue, taking his eyes off Steve’s face in an uncharacteristically indirect move. One of only a handful of times Steve can think of, when Eddie hasn’t looked frank and fearless into Steve’s eyes.
 “You do too,” Eddie says to his bowl with quiet ferocity, and follows it with a spoonful of ice cream so quickly that it’s like he’s trying to stuff the words back in. Cover up the evidence with Ben&Jerry’s finest.
I love him, Steve thinks, the hundred-foot high wave coming in. Less devastating of a natural disaster, but sure as shit knocking him off his feet and sending him spinning. Hey, Eddie. I love you.  
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