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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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older! eddie x fem! reader

summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit

w/c: 3.8k

t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink

He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.

Yeah right.

As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.

His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.

And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.

One knock. Nothing.

Another. Still nothing.

It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.

“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.

He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.

Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.

Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.

He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.

But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.

What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.

He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.

He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.

And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.

“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”

He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.

“Please, Mr. Muns—.”

“Eddie,” he grumbles.

“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”

Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.

Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”

“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”

Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”

“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”

Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.

Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.

He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, “fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.

“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.

Quite the opposite actually

Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.

“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”

Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.

Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.

Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.

“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”

“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.

“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”

Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”

“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.

“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”

you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.

Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.

“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”

Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.

His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.

“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.

Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.

Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.

“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.

His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.

Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.

“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.

He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.

Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.

“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”

He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”

“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.

Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”

“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”

You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”

👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #older!eddie #mean!eddie munson #daddy!eddie munson #landlord! eddie

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astonmartingf · 19 days

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SLOWLY ; LH44

— after all the years you’ve been together with lewis as friends, you realize what lewis means to you

amgf mentions of break downs and panic attacks, crying, realizing feelings are overwhelming and it's just too much for reader but don't worry it's fluff 🫶 enjoy because wow i loved writing this, also tried my hardest not to make this like my other lewis smau and i hope i did that. anyways, enjoy!!! the next part we're going somewhere special 😉👍

masterlist

“Nico! You’re here at Lewis' party? I missed you so much, I have no one to talk to— Lewis is busy yet he’s always around. What if… what if I start seeing him in some type of way? Or am I drunk? I’m not drunk aren’t I? Maybe I am… a true friend wouldn’t have feelings for a friend right? OH MY GOSH! What if it was Lewis all along? I mean, I don’t mind, look at him? But… ARRGGGHHH! I have so much to say, but I can’t say it. Not to his face… I really think I’m starting to like—”

Do you have an unhealthy attachment to the voicemail Nico sent you four years ago of your drunken confession to admitting to having some type of feeling for your friend, Lewis Hamilton?

Yes.

Does Nico constantly remind you of the said confession four years after?

Yes.

Is it haunting your mind? It’s haunting your mind, soul, and heart— because as much as you hate to admit it, the feelings are starting to follow you, four years later. All your drunken word vomit to Nico was slowly following you throughout the years and it’s only then that you realize the culmination of all your deepest and darkest thoughts about Lewis.

That after all those years of friendship and platonic love… it might be him.

As time passes by you’ve fully integrated into yourself that Lewis would be an integral part of your life, in your formative years you stuck by each other up until the occurring present, and soon you figured out you’d still be friends with him in the future. He was always there, it was understandable.

But it wasn’t until you fully grasped that he was always there, and he might never go away.

“So have you thought about it?” Nico breaks your train of thought, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter’s playroom wearing tiaras and tutu skirts, playing tea party with the teddy bears Lewis gifted them last Christmas.

“I’m not thinking about Lewis.”

“That was an awfully quick answer, didn’t even mention him in the slightest.” You blink, dropping the “cup of tea” handed to you. “What did I say?”

Nico sighs in front of you, picking up the plastic tea cup, placing it back on the table, whispering something to his daughter before removing the wand from your left hand and whisking you out of the room.

“Is everything okay?” Nico asks, pulling one of the throw pillows into your lap, eagerly waiting for your response.

“It’s scary— these feelings I’m bearing. I don’t think I can handle it, I want them gone.” Your words are void of emotion, but your eyes tell a different story as tears start pooling your eyes, heavy and slowly out of breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

You shudder as Nico pulls your arms together to your side, forcing you to face him— you stare at his eyes, slowly blurring at the tears blocking your view. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t want it. It’s all too much for me, this— this feeling, it’s uncomfortable, I don’t like it.”

“It’s new, but it’s still the same. It’s still the same Lewis and he won’t ever change.” Nico tries to comfort you, but you’re spiraling way too quickly to make sense of it all.

“No it won’t! I like him, things will be different from then on, can’t you see? I’m ruining it all, and once Lewis realizes that he’ll leave me for being a bad friend. It’s all my fault, I like him and I hate myself for it. I can’t believe it, all those years will end up with me being alone all because I like him. And now, I can’t even— I don’t want to look at him. I’m disgusted and disappointed at myself for even thinking that I have a chance, every moment I’m with him I look forward to the next, and it’s all new to me, I don’t like it Nico!”

You catch his daughters peeking from the playroom, fully unaware of the volume of your voice. They probably didn’t expect their aunt to break down in their house on a random weekday, yet here we are. You laugh bitterly, wiping the tears in your face. “I’m scared Nico, I don’t know what to do.”

Nico holds his breath out nodding slowly, comforting you, “Yes, I understand… it all seems scary, these big feelings— it’s new. But, remember it’s still Lewis. I don’t think he would want you to be all alone as well.”

It was the last straw, the cumulation of all your feelings summed up to one— after Nico left and Lewis being avoidant about the situation, it left scars around you. You realize not to bring it up, and thinking of your own feelings and over analyzing down the “what could have beens” in your head, you went ahead of your own thoughts, slowly pulling you in a never ending spiral of destruction.

“I’m home! And guess who I met on the way?” Watching you bursting into tears on the couch in front of Nico, still adorning the tutu skirt and plastic tiara on top of your head was not the sight Lewis and Vivian were expecting when they came in.

Nico put his hands out defensively, “It’s not my fault— okay maybe I was part but I promise you I was just helping her. Not helping her cry, I just said some things that made her emotional— okay no. It wasn’t my fault I promise you, YN was just saying something and I said it wasn’t true, I just assured her. I promise I didn’t make her cry, she did that to herself.”

You burst into laughter all whilst rubbing your eyes dry, “Hi Vivian… Lewis— I swear it wasn’t him. It’s all just me being silly.” Nico gave you a pointed look, assuring you your feelings are very much valid and not silly, but you just shake your head in dismissal.

Lewis approached you, slowly wiping the tears of your face and pulling onto the strings of your heart. If you had any more tears left to cry you would’ve bursted then and there again, but you wouldn’t do that in front of Lewis. “Are you sure? Or are you just saying that because we’re here? I’m sure Vivian doesn’t mind if you tell us the truth, did Nico make you cry?”

You laugh resting your face onto the palm of his hands, “He did make me cry, but I assure you it was out of the goodness of his heart. It was either me crying or possibly passing out, I’d rather cry my heart out.” The mention of almost passing out leaves Lewis more worried than Nico being the reason for your tears.

“Darling why? Are you tired? Do you want to go home?” Go home. Home being Lewis’ apartment just a floor above Nico's. As much as you want to rest, close your eyes, and forget about all of this, you couldn’t bear being alone with Lewis yet.

You shake your head, “No… I want to play with the kids, Nico pulled us out to talk for a moment and then I had this breakdown, I want to stay I promise. It might help distract me from my own thoughts.”

Lewis, still wary, lets you off to play with the kids as he helps Vivian and Nico in the kitchen. “So… care to tell us what happened?” Nico presses his lips into a thin line before shaking his head.

“Sorry but this is about YN, if you want to know you ask her yourself, I doubt she wants to talk about it yet but don’t worry. It’s nothing alarming, I promise you— she just needs time to think about it more.”

Not convinced, Lewis presses on the issue, “She’s okay though?”

Nico laughs, “She’s more than okay! I think it’s only going to get better from here on. It was just an enlightening time for both of us, more for her, but don’t worry Lew, things are looking up from here on.”

Sitting with the kids as you continue your interrupted tea party, they shower you with hugs and comforting words before instructing you how to play tea party with them. Peeking from the door of the playroom, you catch a glimpse of Lewis in the kitchen with Nico, not before sending a small smile and waving in your direction.

You smile back at him, and to yourself. Nico was right.

It’s still Lewis— things may be looking fast for your feelings, but one thing’s for sure. You’ve been slowly falling for Lewis since then.

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine

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feelbokkie · 17 days

Text

[12:20 AM]

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff drabble

pov: 2nd person

description: changbin takes tooth fairy duty seriously as a first timer. he's just a little too eager.

pairing: dad!Changbin x gn!reader

warnings: none

word count: 417

“What, in God’s name, are you wearing?” You giggle as Changbin quietly tiptoes into your room. A pink tutu sits on his waist, fairy wings on his back, and a furry pink tiara on his head. In his left hand, a fairy wand. Underneath he wears his regular black shirt and joggers.

“Did you expect me to not take tooth fairy duty seriously? What if Hyun-hee woke up?” He yells in a hushed tone, although for him it sounds like a normal inside voice from anyone else.

“You’re right. I apologize for insulting your professionalism.” You laugh, bowing your head in his direction. You sit down on your bed and put away your phone. “How much did you give her?”

“₩135,514,” Changbin says nonchalantly as he begins to take off his costume.

You freeze, blinking slowly, hoping that you misunderstood him. “I’m sorry, did you say that you gave our 7-year-old the equivalent of one hundred United States dollars? For a tooth?”

“Was…was that not right?” Changbin asks slowly, his wings now in his hands.

You rub your hands all over your face before looking up at him.

“Changbin, kids lose 20 teeth so that’s ₩ 2,698,300 for one kid. We have 3 so by the time we’re done that’s ₩ 8,094,900.”

"And…?"

"And I'm pretty sure you gave her the black market rate for a human tooth!"

"Shh," Changbin pokes his head outside your bedroom and checks to see if any of your daughters woke up. After a second, he shuts the door again and turns to you. "I'm sorry. We don't have the tooth fairy here so I got excited."

"That's okay, just go back and give her an appropriate amount of money." You sigh, settling into your spot.

"Which is?"

“No more than ₩ 6,745.75.”

"That seems too little…What if I gave her--"

"Changbin, no more than ₩ 6,745.75. Understand?"

"…understood…" He sighs, quickly putting his costume back on and leaving the room.

**The next morning**

"The tooth fairy gave me ₩ 13477.70!" Hyun-hee shouts, running into the kitchen where you're finishing breakfast.

"Oh did they now?" You turn to Changbin who is standing next to you, drinking some coffee.

"I'm sure the tooth fairy saw your cute little face and couldn't resist," Changbin says sheepishly as he slides a cup of coffee over to you.

"I'm also sure the tooth fairy is going to get an earful from their boss later."

"Damnit," Changbin mutters into his mug, low enough so Hyun-hee doesn't hear.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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hellodarling1357 · 3 months

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Flames and Embers: Part 2 - Cassian x Vanserra!Reader (slow burn)

Thank you for all of the love on part one of Flames and Embers, it honestly means the world!

The next few parts will still have a bit of character set up, but I'm going off of this for everyone's (approx) ages because there will probably be a few different time line jumps throughout the chapters, at least until it's all caught up.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or if you've got any questions about this fic (or any of my others)!

I'm hoping to get a new chapter out every week. I've got a mass word doc already with so so so many ideas and little snippets that I'm so excited to properly write!

As always, requests are open!!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 2.6k

~ 528 years earlier ~

“But Father, I don’t want to go.” You were seven years old and had just been escorted to the entrance hall after being stuffed into a gown, hair done up in twirls with a small tiara placed atop your head.

Beron fixed you with a cold look as he assessed your appearance, causing you to shift on the spot as your brothers snickered behind his back.

“What did you say?”

“I just said that I didn’t want to go…” You trailed off, too late in realising your mistake.

Rule one, don’t question your High Lord.

Rule two, don’t talk back.

It made no difference that he was your father, your loyalty and obedience to his throne always came first, and within the span of just a few seconds, you had already broken the rules that had been outlined for you since before you could talk.

“If I say you are going, then you are going,” The lack of emotion in his voice sent chills over you, making you stare down at your feet to escape his pressing glare. “The only good that comes from having you as a daughter, is the chance of marrying you off and receiving a handsome dowery– “

“But Father, surely she is too young–“ The slap to the face that Eris received had the room coming to a standstill, even the snickering of your other brothers was silenced at the impact.

“Obviously she’s not getting married tonight, stupid boy. No, we need to start making her presence known, so that when the time comes it will be an easy enough transaction.”

You quietly sniffled, trying to hold back your tears. All you wanted to do was to run back upstairs and hide in your room. Your father turned back to the fae males who had silently watched the scene with smug smirks, resuming their previous conversation as you waited to depart for the Spring Court Ball.

With wide, watery eyes, you turned to face Eris. He had tried to help you and had gotten hurt in the process, but now he was back to his cold, distant self. This happened a lot, you had begun to realise. He would be warm and loving towards you, would try to protect you, but as soon as the others were around or it became too noticeable, he would act as though you didn’t exist.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong to have the others treat you like this, but you didn’t want to disappoint your father or your brother’s any further, so you wiped away your tears and raised your chin, silently waiting for the order to leave; slipping into the role of the perfect, silent female as you pushed away you worries surrounding the night ahead.

*****

The fae male your father worked with sneered down at you when he was ordered to winnow you to the Spring Court, still, you wouldn’t mention it to your father in case it was further reason for him to be angry with you, in case the male’s reaction was because of something you had done – not realising it was purely because you were a female who existed within the Autumn Court.

You timidly trailed in behind your brothers, who were pushing each other around as they followed your father into the glowing ballroom. Your family was announced upon entrance, and they all quickly dispersed into the crowd, leaving you lingering in the doorway with no idea what you should be doing; whether you should stay out of sight or if you should be following their lead. It was too late now; you had already lost sight of them so resorted to making your way around the edge of the room where you tried to copy what the other fae females were doing. It was too bad that none of them were anywhere near your age or bothered to acknowledge you in anyway. With a sigh you retreated to one of the shadowed corners and slumped into the seat as you observed the ballroom with disdain.

“Who are you?” The sudden appearance of the boy made you jump out of your chair, edging around it to create some distance between the two of you.

“Who are you?”

“I asked you first,” You warily glared at him, taking in his dark hair and violet eyes; he had to have been around the same age as you. There was a beat of silence before he continued, “I’m Rhys. Or Rhysand. But only my father calls me that. I much prefer Rhys. Did you know that I’m going to be a High Lord one day?”

You stayed silent, glancing around the room for any sight of your own father or brothers. Regardless of who this boy said he was, or who he was going to be, you knew your father wouldn’t approve of you talking to him and that it would most likely result in a lecture about maintaining appearances and, depending on his mood after tonight, a potential beating at your disobedience.

Oblivious to your discomfort, the boy, Rhys, continued talking, “Are you from Autumn?”

Your eyes shot towards him, before quickly looking around “Why? Why do you say that?”

That was another of your father’s rules broken if Rhy had already figured out who you were.

“Your hair,” You gave him a look of confusion, “It’s red?” He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes, it is. By why does that mean I’m from Autmn?” Maybe you could try to throw him off, after all, your father had always said not to trust anyone from the other courts.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t.” His face was a mixture of deep contemplation and intrigue. “But it’s a good guess. Look, that’s all the High Lord’s sons over there, and they all have red hair.”

You head whipped around so fast, fear widening your eyes but, thankfully, they weren’t paying any attention to you.

“Can I tell you a secret? But you have to promise not to tell anyone.” It seemed the future High Lord had already jumped onto his next trail of thought, no longer curious about which court you hailed from.

“I heard, and I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did. I heard my father, he’s the Night Court High Lord, saying to the males he works with that the Autumn High Lord is,” He looked around, giving you a conspiratorial smile as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to quote his father, “a real piece of work.”

Rhys looked at you, gauging your reaction to the scandalous piece of news. You froze, not sure how to respond, but then a giggle left you, followed by another and another. You tried to hide your smile behind your hand but the pleased look on Rhys’ face and his laugh that followed made you giggle even harder.

“Rhysand.” A stern voice bit through the air, halting you both mid laugh. “Come over here. Now.” You had frozen at the tone of the male’s voice, used to associating the coldness of it with some form of punishment. Rhys, however, didn’t seem too concerned as he merrily said, “See you later, Autumn.” and made his way over to where his father and a female, who you could only assume was his mother, stood.

*****

You shook your head as if to clear the memories that had begun to resurface after your encounter with Rhysand in the dungeon. A part of you yearned for the simplicity of your youth, however, you now knew that simplicity didn’t necessarily mean happiness. And that, in reality, the simplicity you had experienced was purely your own youthful ignorance to the world around you.

Weeks had passed since the bargain had been made and Rhysand was yet to properly utilise your side of the deal. Not that you were complaining. The only times he had even deigned to acknowledge you since that night always seemed to coincide with your visits to Feyre. You could now guarantee that within the hour of you return from the dungeons, his voice would infiltrate your mind; only ever asking how “Feyre Darling” seemed to be faring.

The night before Feyre’s final task had arrived all too quickly. The party was in full swing – the fae around you drank and lounged and danced, others stood around laughing and singing as though they had no care in the world.

You stood with Lucien against a wall, both of you had a drink in hand but that was as festive as you would allow yourself to appear, especially when considering what Feyre would be facing tomorrow.

Neither of you talked much in public, leaving the decades worth of missed conversations for when you managed to find some quiet in the privacy of your own rooms. Instead, you observed the partygoers together and kept an eye out for the rest of your brothers and your father. Your mother was a rare sight at events such as these, over the years she had become more and more reserved, now, however, you couldn’t blame her one bit. Especially when considering the sight you were forced to witness as two young fae females sat draped across the arms of the seat your father occupied; you turned away in disgust, a scoff from Lucien was the only acknowledgement that he had also noticed.

Lucien pulled you from your thoughts with an elbow nudged into your side, inclining his head towards where Tamlin had silently moved to stand next to Feyre. You smiled at the sight, knowing how much she had missed him. At the sight of Tamlin sauntering off and Feyre trying to casually follow after him, you and Lucien shared a knowing smirk. All too suddenly, that small flicker of joy was extinguished with a scrape across your mental shield.

“Eyes and ears. Y/N, dearest”.

He offered no further instruction, but you knew what, who, he was referring to. With a disgruntled sigh, you pushed off the wall, murmuring to your youngest brother that you would see him later, before making your way through the crowd and out the door that Feyre and Tamlin had disappeared through.

The scene before you in the long stretch of corridor had you hesitating as you quietly shut the door behind you. They were clearly too caught up in, well, one another to even realise they were no longer alone. Also, seemingly oblivious to the fact that anyone could have walked in on them; you didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if they had been caught by someone else.

“Is this what you were wanting?” You shot back at Rhys, showing him the sight before you.

“I appreciate your efficiency. Best to make yourself scarce.” He purred back. You were too tired to think about what his words meant.

Not wanting to head back to the party that was becoming more and more unruly as the night went on, you made your way up the stairs and headed to your room, careful not to disturb Feyre and Tamlin as you passed by, hoping to allow them even just a moment of peace. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, not with the thought of what was to come tomorrow, but at least you would have a bit of quiet before everything changed, whether that be for the worse or the better.

*****

“Well, you certainly maintained your knack for having perfect timing over the years.”

The drawl of Rhys’ voice and his sudden appearance by the small window in your room had you jumping back, heart beating furiously in your chest.

“What do you want?” You voice was a low snarl as you glared at the High Lord, too tired and too fed up with the situation at hand to feign even an ounce of respect.

“I’m hurt, I thought you were beginning to warm up to me, what with your recent little trips down memory lane,” He tapped a finger to the side of his head, making a snarl appear on your face at the implication. “Seems as though you’ve been thinking about a lot of people from our past lately.” This was the most either of you had ever acknowledged the friendship you had once shared; of the other life you were so close to having before it was so cruelly snatched out of your hands.

“Stay out of my head.” He simply chuckled in response as he leant against the wall, silently observing you as he absentmindedly picked at his dark dress shirt.

“Why did you have me do that? You couldn’t allow Feyre a moment of happiness before whatever she has planned for her tomorrow?” You quickly changed the subject before he decided to delve even deeper into those memories of the past, your voice spitting out the word in reference to Amarantha.

You were surprised at the scoff Rhys let out, a scowl of his own appearing on his face at the thought of what he had walked in on, what you had shown him.

“Utter fools,” he seemed to say to himself as he crossed the room and sat in one of the old armchairs. “You're honestly telling me you don't see what was wrong with that whole…situation?”

Honestly? No, you didn’t. But you weren’t going to offer up an ounce of conversation as he begun making himself at home.

“He had a chance. A chance to get Feyre out. But instead, he wastes the opportunity on a quick fuck,” Your eyebrows narrowed at his words. That was not what you were expecting him to say, but now that you thought about it… Rhys hurriedly continued, voice laced with irritation, “If you were even just a minute later with showing me what was happening, it would’ve been too late for me to intervene, and then Amarantha would have seen everything.”

“I don’t understand…”

“That bitch would have killed Feyre on the spot if she had seen the two of them together. And if Feyre is dead… well, then the rest of us are well and truly fucked because there will be no other chances of getting out of this mess.”

His candour had your head spinning in cartwheels, still trying to catch up on the implication of his words, his actions.

“So…,” You started, still piecing it all together, “you were trying to protect her? After everything you’ve done, you, what? Suddenly grow a conscience?”

He just gives you an incredulous look before standing up with a disappointed sounding sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” The dark shadows start to gather around him but something in your stomach felt unsettled at his sudden departure.

“Wait, Rhys? What’s your end game here? What are you planning?” The shadows disappeared the moment the words were out, a smug grin appearing on his face.

“So, it’s back to being Rhys again, is it? Here I was thinking you preferred to call me Rhysand nowadays.”

Letting out a scoff you rolled your eyes. For a fleeing moment he had seemed so much like the male you had once known. Now, however, the new asshole version of him stood before you again; the epitome of arrogance and entitlement.

“Honestly, I would prefer to call you a prick, but it doesn’t seem overly appropriate, High Lord.” You offered a mocking curtsey.

A deep laugh escaped him as the darkness gathered around his shoulders again, leaving you with a final, “goodnight, Y/N.” then you were once again alone in your room, the dread of what tomorrow would bring curling itself around you.

*****

Thanks for reading 🥰

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#cassian x reader #vanserra!reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #marley writes

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hanggarae · 10 months

Text

maybe we can try if you let me ..

6.6k words ☠️ angst fluff hurt comfort pining jealousy royalty au prince! mingyu f!noble!reader one sided love, mentions of infidelity/cheating reader is childhood friends w dokyeom like one mention of blood not proofread

“so, how does it feel?” miyeon inquired excitedly from your side, dusting her fingers carefully over her tiara once again, “i’m still in shocked that one of us is actually getting married”

you forced a gentle smile to her, never wanting to crush her excitement. it’s not her fault she’s blissfully unaware of how you felt about the entire situation. it’s not her fault that your engagement was purely made of convenience. it’s not her fault that you hardly considered it was truly you getting married. it’s not her fault your soon-to-be husband didn’t love you back. and it’s not her fault that you’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years.

miyeon never knew about your infatuation with mingyu, you never told her because the second you did it was a sign that your feelings for mingyu were strong enough for you to inform others of it, and you convinced yourself you’d never let it come to that.

although this should’ve been a dream come true for you, your inner teenage self bashfully giggling at the thought of marrying the prince you’d harboured feelings for since you’d first met him, the part of you that was now mature enough to realise loving someone didn’t always mean they’d love you back quivered in fear at the thought of being tied to a marriage where you’d never receive a fraction of the love you felt.

“it feels.. surreal. i don’t think i’ve still realised i’m actually engaged, that i’ll be somebody’s wife, you know?” you tried putting up a convincing enough act, hoping she’d take your hesitance as nerves rather than melancholy.

she nodded understandingly, soothing over shoulder reassuringly.

“that’s fairly understandable. if i was you i’d be all the same” she hummed, “not long ago we were giggling at the thought of picking a wedding dress and now you’re meeting the tailors at the end of the week”

right. you weren’t particularly excited for it like you’d dreamt you’d be. in fact, you dreading it the more you thought of it. because the fitting would just be you and your fiancé mingyu.

pushing the thought to the back of your head, you smiled at miyeon once again and continued entertaining her questions until you’d both decided to call it a night, miyeon headed back to her chambers while you could barely sleep, mind too busy thinking about what your life had come to and what it will come to after your marriage.

there was no official date for the wedding yet, but rumours circulating the palace led you to learn that there was a ball in a weeks time, whether the wedding would be before or after you could only find out from the prince himself, and whether or not you can would attend the ball with mingyu was also something you’d have to find out from him.

however, you could never bring yourself to ask him. every moment since you’d learnt of the ball was an opportunity to find the prince and get any idea of what was happening, but you were too much of a coward to ever go through with asking him.

you paced outside of his study once again, debating whether or not you should knock on the intimidating oak door. you hovered your fist over the door for the seemingly hundredth time that morning before sighing defeatedly and turning on your heal to leave. but before you could take your first step the doors swung open as you froze immediately.

there he was. kim mingyu, the crown prince and your soon to be husband. he was taken aback for a second at seeing you suddenly, before he allowed a smile to grace his face.

the smile was probably just to be kind, but part of you wanted to believe it was genuine. while he might not be in love with you, you’d hoped he’d at least not think the worst of you.

“y/n. is everything alright? what brings you here?” his eyes continued to run over you, frowning when he stopped at your hand, “what happened to your finger?”

you were flustered when he pointed it out, surprised he even noticed. you quickly recovered and shook your head lightly, corners of your lips curling up.

“oh i had accidentally cut it when i was taking some of my jewellery off, nothing to worry about. i had honestly forgotten about it” you reassured smiling.

mingyu nodded before bringing his gaze back up to your face, “please be more careful next time. now as i asked before, if something the matter?”

you stayed silent for a few seconds, throat running dry at his intense gaze on you. you cleared your thought and swallowed, “um.. if it’s not a bother, could i ask you a few questions?” turning your eyes away from him slightly to focus on the gold doorknob with a floral pattern engraved on its sides.

“hmm, i have a few meetings with the court i attend this afternoon but i believe i’m free for the next hour or so” mingyu hummed thoughtfully, turning slightly to the side to make space for you, “please come in, take a seat”

you sat at the desk chair opposite to mingyu, the situation reminding you of when a principal would scold a student making you unconsciously tense slightly while you mentally cursed at yourself for getting nervous at the smallest of things.

mingyu must’ve noticed your tense posture and took it as a sign to instead invite you to a small round table placed by the fireplace. while you sat however mingyu busied himself with something else.

he returned with a tray carrying a teapot, two teacups, a small pot containing sugar and a small plate of small desserts. you tried reassuring him that he didn’t have to bring the tray, that he didn’t have to pour you a cup, that it was inappropriate for a prince to do such things when you could’ve but mingyu simply reassured you that this was a minuscule action.

after you had both taken a sip of the tea mingyu was the first to speak up, “do you like tea?”

his question was surprising, you thought he would’ve rushed you to ask your questions, any small talk only being a waste of his time.

regardless, you pondered his question for a few seconds before turning to look at him once again, “i don’t really particularly like or dislike it if that makes sense. my mother encouraged me to have a few cups whenever i was sick but i don’t often have it other than that. how about you, your highness?”

“for a long time i didn’t care for it much, but a friend of mine, minghao, he’s quite interested in tea ceremonies” he answered after taking a sip, “whenever we meet he often goes into detail about different tea’s and how their grown, he’s researched a lot into it”

you smiled lightly after he told you that the tea set you were using right now, a gift he’d given only recently after hearing news of the engagement.

a few minutes of silence pass before mingyu speaks up again “oh my apologies, i had forgotten you had a few questions to ask, what were they?”

you played with the ring on your finger as you murmured, “there had been a few rumours that there was a ball to be held in a week?” you took mingyu’s nod as confirmation so continued, “i was only wondering if i was to attend to?”

mingyu tilted his head and looked at you with a confused look for a few seconds. cute you thought.

“well.. of course, you’d be attending with me as my fiancé. who else would i attend with?” he still looked a little confused.

“that’s fine, thank you for letting me know. oh! and if i could ask you one more thing” again you took his nod as a sign to keep going “i understand there likely isn’t a confirmed date yet but i was wondering if you had an idea when the wedding would be?”

“i’m afraid not, the elders in the court are rushing it but it wouldn’t be very princely of me to rush you into a wedding now would it? the guilt of springing the engagement on you is eating me up as it is” he frowned slightly.

you murmured something quietly and if mingyu wasn’t so close to you he’s certain he would’ve missed it altogether, “i’m sorry, y/n, could you repeat that?”

“my apologies, i had said that if the wedding needs to be done in a hurry i really don’t mind. the marriage is for your highness’ convenience so honestly, i really don’t mind when it is. i just wanted an idea so i know when i should tell a friend of mine to take a train into town” you trailed off slightly at the end.

mingyu frowned even deeper at your sentence, he looked.. sullen? in fact it even looked like he was pouting slightly.

“i’ll be sure to let you know” he said rather hastily before grabbing a few of his things, “while i really must head off now to the meeting but you’re more than welcome to stay here if you wish”

and that was all that was said before he quickly parted ways with you, leaving you alone in the study.

you finished up your tea and started to clear up the table. after you had finished you’d decided to look around the study, after all, mingyu had given you permission to stick around.

you looked over the walls, pictures of mingyu with the royal family gracing them. there were some pictures of him and his pet puppy, some of him and his friend that you recognised as minghao, a duke of a kingdom not far from your own.

you continued looking at some more of the pictures, before you stopped at one that was more recent. it had to have been, mingyu’s hair was slightly longer from when he’d grown it out recently, not that you’d been paying attention of course.

you looked over it again, he was with a lady, you recognised her as a princess of another kingdom, it seemed like her and mingyu were close. from the story that the picture was telling you, they were quite fond of each other even.

you swallowed the bitter taste at the back of your throat. honestly, why did you care? he was a good looking guy that would very obviously have hundreds if not thousands of women pining over him, it’s no surprise he’d take a liking to one. and that one wasn’t you. it’d never be you.

you turned your heel and left before you’d allow it to hurt you even more.

you hadn’t spoken to mingyu for the rest of the week. it seemed he’d been busy with whatever the elders wanted of him. you’d been busy too, there were all sorts of responsibilities that you would have to take on when you eventually married mingyu, and you’d spent the week at ‘classes’ that taught you how to handle said responsibilities. you figured that mingyu would’ve had to attend such things too, only he’d have been forced to when he was a child.

but today you wouldn’t have to be bored out of your mind while one of mingyu’s butlers explained which was the proper fork to use. despite being a noble yourself, you were never told to go into such details, your family being content with you simply being polite and having good etiquette.

although, you would’ve much rather potentially die of boredom than do what was actually on your schedule for today. and that was meeting the tailors.

meeting the tailors also meant that you and mingyu would face each other, and you didn’t know how you could do that after seeing the pictures he had of him and that princess, because as much as you’d try convincing yourself that you knew he’d never fall for you, part of you still foolishly longed for it and craved it more than anything.

you made a turn in the hallway and finally came face to face with the door, behind it you knew were mingyu and some of the kingdom’s finest tailors and jewellers. hesitantly, you pushed yourself to know on the door, calling out too in order to alert mingyu of your presence before finally turning the knob.

mingyu smiled at you and you returned it quickly before you were being dragged away by the tailors.

you didn’t think that everything would be done so meticulously, but you were quickly shown just how serious of a matter the tailor’s considered it. first they had a team to decide which colors suited you well, also making sure that whatever color you wore went well with what mingyu would wear. then a team helped you decide what shape and design you wanted the dress to have. and then a team to take the required measurements multiple times to make sure everything was perfect. and finally there was a team to decide what jewellery you should wear. after all of your decisions were finalised the tailors told you’d both have to meet them again once the dress was sewn to ensure the dress was perfect.

by the time they left, you were so exhausted you ended up practically collapsing on the stool. mingyu chuckled at your state, striding his way over to you “if you thought that was bad you’re going to loathe the dress rehearsal”

“there’s a dress rehearsal?” you sighed exasperatedly. you shut your eyes, rubbing at your temples as you felt a migraine approaching.

“yes, darling, there is a dress rehearsal” he laughed, “usually a few days before the official ceremony. royals often do it since our weddings are always expected to be more than perfect”

although you didn’t focus on that last part. you didn’t focus on anything mingyu said after he said that one little word.

darling.

oh it felt nice to believe for a second that this was real. that this marriage wasn’t out of convenience. that mingyu had proposed to you for love and not because you were a rich noble’s daughter that he only proposed to because the elders of the court wouldn’t let him breathe.

“so there won’t be one after the dress is ready?” you peered at him.

“it’s a little different than a dress rehearsal, it’s simply a fitting. they’ll make sure that both of our garments appear well on us and don’t clash with each other” he explained to you, hand combing through his hair.

you nodded slowly and let your eyes close for a few seconds, your head was pounding and you’d decided to allow yourself to relax for a few minutes before reality would cut in.

when you awoke, you were alone.

you were still wearing your garments from last night and you don’t remember walking home last night, or even being escorted.

soon you realised you weren’t home, you were in the palace. most likely one of the many guest rooms. as for how you got there though, that you were still unsure of.

once you got up you noticed something at the dresser. a note.

good morning y/n, once you’ve finished getting ready, please be kind enough to join me in the courtyard for breakfast.

-mingyu

your heart started growing flustered at the thought of mingyu asking you to meet him. you rushed to meet him, quickly changing into the spare clothes someone had left for you by the mirror and making sure you looked presentable for mingyu.

as soon as you were happy you made your way through the palace halls, walking with joy as you thought about meeting the prince and allowed your mind to be taken over by situations you imagine yourself in with mingyu.

when you’d reached the courtyard, the first thing you saw was mingyu as he sat under a tree for some shade from the sun. when he caught sight of you, he beckoned you over with a smile.

“good morning, your highness” you said while joining him.

“and to you, y/n. did you sleep well? i’d noticed you’d drifted off so i brought you to a guest room, i really hope i didn’t impose”

you shook your head, heart warming at the thought of caring after you, “if anything, your highness, i should be the one to apologise”

“nonsense. this palace is as much yours as it is mine, in case you’ve forgotten, we are engaged to be married” he chuckled teasingly.

you’d spent that entire morning talking with mingyu, it felt nice. you’d been closer when you were younger but when mingyu was named the crown prince, you could only see each other so often. the morning with mingyu was nostalgic, but it also gave you hope and made you content with the future you would spend with him too.

mingyu eventually had to leave for another meeting and you were free to spend the day as you wished, mingyu insisting on it considering how tired yesterday had made you. he said you deserved a break.

you’d decided the best way to spend it would be heading back to town. it’d been a few days since you’ve truly done anything there, by the time you’d usually arrive home you’d be too exhausted to do anything.

upon your arrival, you’d been accompanied by a knight, you were unsure of his name but he gave you enough space. that’d been mingyu’s only rule for the day, that you were to be with a knight at all time for safety.

you looked around the town, waving and conversing with a few old friends, mainly congratulating you on the engagement, asking for any details but mainly, they were asking you about mingyu.

it was no surprise that there was a slight bitter tone whenever someone asked you about what mingyu was like, half the town probably wished they could learn what the prince was like for themselves.

by the time you finally had some time alone, well alone with just the knight, you saw a few carriages make there way into town. odd.

you looked toward the knight accompanying you, silently asking what is this to which he caught on pretty quick, “those are guests from the neighbouring kingdom. prince mingyu invited them for the ball that’s in a few days”

you nodded, slowly remembering the ball. you silently wondered if the tailors would exhaust you for hours to find a dress for that too.

you looked over at the carriages again, eyes catching sight of something, or well someone, familiar. waiting for the commotion to die down, you approached the carriages with the knight.

“seokmin?” you gasped.

“y/n!” seokmin smiled back at you, arms immediately engulfing you in a hug, “it’s been too long”

you and seokmin had grown up in town together, friends for a long time until his family decided to settle in the other kingdom. it looks like he’d finally become a knight like he’d dreamed of.

after he was given permission by the rest of the knights, he made his way with you, both of you reminiscing about memories you’d made in the town the second you saw anything.

“wow, so you’re prince mingyu’s fiancé. that’s unbelievable. but i am happy for you, he seems like a good man” seokmin smiled genuinely

“well i’d hope he’s a good man, he is the future king after all” you replied back laughing lightly, “enough about that though, look at you. a commander in the knights, that’s incredible”

the tips of your friends ears turned red as he laughed bashfully at your praise, “i suppose we’re both doing quite well then”

you continued your walk around town with seokmin, passing over a small bridge and looking over at a lake, “so seokmin, will you also be at the ball?” you turned to ask him.

“i believe so yes. mainly to accompany the princess”

ah so that was who was in the last carriage.

it was starting to get dark so you’d thought it was about time to head back. you bid farewell to seokmin and headed back to your home, heading straight to bed.

the next few days were mainly spent getting ready for the ball, except today.

today you were expected to attend a dinner with mingyu and his friends, when you had asked mingyu the occasion he explained that he enjoyed meeting with his friends regularly, and now was a good time to get you acquainted with them.

you were getting ready in the palace, the maids helping you and calming your nerves for tonight. you don’t know how mingyu was able to manage things like this since he was old enough to walk. when you were ready, mingyu arrived at your chambers to escort you to where the dinner was being held, immediately, you were greeted with the sights of all of mingyu’s friends.

you recognised a few, some of them grew up with you. some you had only met today but knew of them. and some you were seeing and hearing of for the first time today.

one person it particular caught your eye however, was the princess you’d seen from the photos in mingyu’s study.

how was she even more gorgeous in person?

she greeted you kindly and throughout the night was a delight, which made you feel even worse because how could you even dislike her? and how could you blame mingyu for falling for her?

you tried not to let your sour mood show to anyone, especially not mingyu, because you don’t know how you’d lie if he asked you what was the matter.

so you made sure for the rest of the night that you wouldn’t let any of your true feelings show, despite wanting nothing else but to cry.

you’d learnt that the princess had only arrived a few days ago for the ball, and was from the same kingdom as seokmin.

so she was the princess that seokmin would be escorting.

you’d decided to ask her about seokmin too, explaining that you were a childhood friend of his. she got excited at that, shocked at how small of a world it is.

when the dinner was finally wrapping up and guests were leaving, mingyu pulled you aside, “is everything alright? you were quite quiet the entire night”

you shook your head, blaming it simply on your nerves and apologised for potentially coming across as rude to his friends.

“nonsense. you shouldn’t apologise. i apologise for springing this dinner on you quite suddenly”

mingyu insisted on you staying the night at the palace, telling one of the maids to lead you there.

a few moments after you’d gotten ready for bed, you heard a knock on the door.

“come in” you said back, going toward the mirror, you looked to see mingyu in the reflection.

“your highness” you turned toward him, “can i help you?”

he said nothing as he took long strides to stand behind you.

he said nothing as he slowly started to take your necklace off for you, as he slowly took off the rest of your jewellery too, one by one.

when he was done he smiled at your confused look, “so you don’t hurt yourself again”

you were surprised at how he remembered and let the first genuine smile make its way onto your face that night.

today was the day of the ball. you were incredibly scared because today would be the day where everyone learnt exactly who the crown prince’s fiancé was. as of right now, you were a stranger to most of the public. your family was well known, and it wasn’t like the engagement was a secret, but majority of people didn’t know exactly who you were.

most of the day was spent getting you ready, making sure your dress was perfect along with the makeup, hair, jewellery, shoes and just everything.

you really couldn’t wait for this to be over.

you’d been to balls before so you were luckily able to skip the butlers teaching you the waltz.

before the guests had arrived, mingyu’s friends had arrived early. the princess also arrived early, along with seokmin. you smiled at him and introduced him to mingyu, smiling even wider as they started to get along.

seokmin had already left by the time you’d met mingyu for the first time, so this was the first time they’d ever met.

minghao had also arrived, greeting you with a smile and congratulating you personally on the engagement.

the guests were to start arriving soon and a maid had informed you to stay with mingyu for the time being, but when you looked around you couldn’t spot him anywhere.

you’d asked a few of his friends, even asking seokmin and minghao while apologising for interrupting their conversation.

you’d decided to check outside of the ballroom too but still couldn’t spot him. worried, you tried to think logically.

in a room with this many guards, nothing could’ve happened.

as you continued looking around you heard giggling, mingyu’s. and someone else’s. you had an idea of who but you really didn’t want to admit it.

but as much as you’d want to convince yourself, you couldn’t erase that it was reality.

you found mingyu. he was with that same princess, they were hugging, she’d kissed his cheek too. he looked at her with such a fondness that you could never deny. and who were you to get in the way of that? who were you to stand in the way of two people so clearly in love?

there was a part of the hallway that was empty that you decided to stand in for a few minutes, collecting your thoughts.

he was so cruel.

how could he be so in love with someone while he was engaged to you? how could he make you fall so hard for him while he knew he’d never feel the same?

you couldn’t take this anymore, when you heard footsteps approaching you snapped your head in the direction.

there he was, “y/n? is everything alright?”

“no. no not really” you murmured, letting out a deep breath.

he frowned slightly, coming closer to your side to rub your shoulder, “what hap-“

“i’d like to call off this engagement.” you kept your arm away from him.

“what? what on earth are you talking about?” he looked angry, but he was controlling himself, “you can’t just suddenly say that”

“i can. nobody could ever force me to marry you, your highness. and i refuse to marry someone like you” you looked at him coldly as you started to walk away.

you didn’t think mingyu would stop you and you were right, because while you walked out he didn’t make any move to stop you, to ask you anything, he didn’t even try to look upset. and that was reason enough for you to never look back.

you didn’t try going back to the palace after that, you didn’t even try finding out what happened for the rest of that night. if it was up to you, you’d forget everything about the last few weeks, he’ll even the last few years. if it was up to you, you’d never meet mingyu, you’d never fall for him either. oh how much better life would’ve been if you could simply turn back time every once in a while.

it dawned on you however how irrational you were being, guilt ate you up when you realised how your actions could jeopardise your family’s relationship with the royal family. however you couldn’t bring yourself to truly regret it. you’d rather be an outcast by your own choice than an outcast in what was supposed to become your home. and you’d loathe being an outcast in your own marriage.

for a few weeks you didn’t try meeting anyone, you hadn’t told anyone about what you did either, mingyu would likely take care of it anyway. so you allowed yourself these few weeks of peace, nobody there who you have to explain yourself to.

“you still haven’t heard anything about her?” minghao asked his friend warily, “this makes no sense. how does someone just go missing?”

missing. well if you were really missing you would’ve been found by now. and if you were really missing then an actual search party would’ve been sent, not just mingyu looking around day and night going mad trying to find any glimpse of you.

the look on your face that night broke mingyu’s heart, so how could he tell everyone the truth after that? he knew that the court would become too hasty and would cut all ties with your family immediately for apparently ‘disrespecting our monarch’. and how could he do that knowing he already hurt you enough?

mingyu was unsure what he really did, but what else could make you look at him like that? from looks of adoration to a cold, inconceivable glare. part of him hated himself for bringing you to such a state.

“how she went missing doesn’t matter. just as long as i can bring her back.. that’s all that truly matters to me” he said slowly, although he knows you weren’t in any real danger that night, he can’t help but grow paranoid at what happened to you since.

ignoring him was one thing, but ignoring your family too was another. he’d even tried asking seokmin and miyeon if they’d heard anything.

the court elders have been pestering him for days, saying that it’s no use trying to find you, that he should call off the engagement officially and just find a new suitor. but how could he when he only had eyes for you.

mingyu was seven when he’d first met you, you who shyly waved at him when your parents introduced you to him. you who at seven years old asked him if he could ride horses, and fight battles, and have his own wizard, and save princesses because that’s what the princes in your stories would do.

mingyu always enjoyed when you came over. you were the only one who was around his age. you were the only one who understood that he was a child too, he felt safe with you. he didn’t have to be the picture of perfection around you, because you wouldn’t belittle him for being a child. you’d never judge him for being himself. even when his friends would poke fun at him sometimes and he’d sulk, you’d always be there to cheer him up.

and when mingyu was eight and his hand started bleeding after he fell, you were the one who was worried for him, who ran to get him a bandage, who told him it’d be alright when he cried about how it hurts so bad. and you were the one who kissed his hand better for him and giggled when you said that usually the prince does the kissing when the girl is in pain.

and even a few months ago, when mingyu was told he’d have to marry soon, no matter how many suitors he’d meet, his mind would always be on you.

and that’s why mingyu’s whole world lit up the second you said yes when he proposed, but everything went dim the second he heard you say you’d never marry someone like him.

mingyu stood on the balcony that night, watching the views of the kingdom, it really was gorgeous. you’d have to be there somewhere. there were no carriages leaving or entering that mingyu didn’t know of, so unless you’ve managed to walk out of the town completely unnoticed, you’re somewhere there.

“you look terrible” he heard a voice behind him say.

he recognised it but couldn’t put his finger on it until he turned around, “seokmin, was it?”

seokmin nodded sending a short smile his way, he joined mingyu on the balcony, letting out a deep breath, “y/n where did you run off to?”

they both stayed quiet for a few seconds, seokmin glancing over at the other before sighing, “for the record, i really hope you’re not blaming yourself for this. because, really, it’s not your fault”

‘oh if only you knew the whole story’, mingyu thought, ‘you would’ve done something to me that would’ve had you executed in seconds’

seokmin continued looking over the city, before laughing lightly at something that caught his sight, “you see that cabin behind the bar? y/n and i used to joke that we’d settle there if we ever did anything to offend the nobles. she really used to get in trouble with them a lot back when we were children. she hated them, always having such strict rules for us. could only imagine how bad it must’ve been for you”

mingyu chuckled at that, despite being shy around him there was a reason he was able to be so carefree around you, and it was because of how much you worked your way around the strict rules laid out for you.

“she really did think highly of you, your highness. in our letters she’d mention the charming prince that was her favourite friend. i was actually quite jealous of you for stealing my spot quite frankly” the knight glared at the prince light heartedly, “i’ve wanted to fight you ever since i was ten”

the two were reminiscing about you for hours on that balcony, laughing with their new found friend.

that morning, you awoke with a headache. perhaps drinking last night wasn’t the best of ideas but it’d been the first time in weeks you’d felt anything but pain or self pity. the cabin was small, you’d stocked up on food before news of you going missing had spread, you weren’t sure what you were to do after that however. if you were lucky you’d be able to sneak around town wearing a cloak that would hide you well enough for some time. right before closing time would be ideal, there wouldn’t be many people around and it wouldn’t be considered odd for you to be walking around in a cloak.

that night, you secured the black cloth around you, basket looped around your arm before you stepped out and made your way around town.

ever since seokmin had told him about that cabin behind the bar, mingyu was sure you’d be there. he’d checked the properties he knew anyone in your family had owned, and even some that your friends’ families had owned only to come up with no luck. and as far as he knew, no recent land purchases were made.

the cabin was small, the only door being at the back, it creaked as it’d opened and when mingyu looked around all he saw was darkness, he didn’t have a candle to light the lamp either. the prince looked around for a few minutes, there weren’t many places to search and you weren’t anywhere. like that, mingyu became more hopeless. where else could you be?

he sat on the rotting floor, tears in his eyes threatening to spill as he realises he may have lost you forever.

you looked over at your basket, content with how much you were able to purchase. it was dark so even without the cloak it would’ve been hard for anyone to pinpoint who you were. opening the door to the cabin, you lit one of the freshly purchased matchsticks and use it light the lamp by the door, the room lighting up immediately.

when you looked forward the cabin was how you left it. starting to put some of your things away, you drowned out the sounds of the town at closing time, more and more patrons were heading into the pub and it tends to get noisiest around now.

one sound took you out of your daydreams however, the door opened. you quickly grabbed the cloak to wrap yourself in once again, turning around to see none other than mingyu standing there.

he looked like a mess. his eyes were bloodshot, he looked somewhat smaller than the last time you’d seen him, paler too.

you two stood staring at each other for a few seconds before mingyu came forward, eyes pleasing with you to not move away like you did last time.

“i’m so, so glad to see you” his voice cracked, “please even if you hate me, never leave like that again” he grasped your hands.

“glad to see me? wouldn’t you be more glad to see the princess?” you glared at him unimpressed.

truth be told it warmed your heart knowing mingyu genuinely cared about you, that he’d been worried about you, but you couldn’t forget the pain he’d put you in.

“the princess?” mingyu tilted his head confused, “y/n what.. what are you talking about?”

“i saw you that night. that night i left, i had tried finding you, and when i did i saw you with the princess, hugging, looking at her in a way you’d never look at me. because why would you look at me like that?” you couldn’t stop yourself from truly expressing how you feel, letting it bottle up for too long, “after all i suppose i really can’t blame you for you not loving me when i’ve- and why were you with the princess that night-“

“please allow me to explain. the princess is merely someone i’ve known since birth. and the princess is in love with minghao, i’ve been trying for years to get them acquainted and she was explaining to me that the duke had finally confessed to her”

you felt incredibly stupid, and incredibly guilty. you stayed silent for a few minutes trying to gather your words.

“my apologies, i shouldn’t have come here. i should have let you have your peace and i’ll be on my way-“

“no!” you shocked yourself with how instantly you had opposed him, “please no. mingyu- your highness. i apologise. i should have allowed you to explain, i could have avoided this. i humiliated you on account of my own insecurities, and it was childish of me to assume something”

“y/n, you can be honest with me” the prince looked at you earnestly, at that you allowed your tears to finally fall.

“it-it hurts. it’s hurts so much knowing i’d be tied to a marriage where only i was giving. and these last few weeks i’ve just been contemplating if it’s my own fault. if it’s my own fault that you’d never be able to look at me how i look at you. and it hurts knowing you’d never love me the same-“

you’d felt mingyu’s lips brush against yours slowly, for a second you’d think it wasn’t happening if it wasn’t for his hand circling your waist.

he slowly brought his lips away from you, both of you breathless, “does it still hurt?” he smiled at you.

“please, never assume that i don’t love you y/n. because i do. i truly do love you, and for the better part of my life i have. i’ve spent years dreaming of a day where i could finally have you to myself as someone i could spend years to come loving. and if i ever made you doubt that then i’m a fool, but please never blame yourself” he said gently, bringing his hand up so his knuckles could wipe at the tears spilling from your eyes, “i love you”

“i love you too” you smiled tearfully at him.

#mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen x you

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 10 months

Text

when my hands were caked with dirt at the foot of the grave, you loved me still; ask atrocity of me and see how i tremble with willingness at the sound of your voice.

mt19 x reader: everyone loves to be taken care of.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, oral sex/fingering (m on f, another exception!), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), kind of oral fixation (have you seen the state of that mouthguard), hair-pulling (bring back the curls), lots of praise and tension and all that nonsense, lots of talk about alcohol, also a lot of emotions! (be warned about those damn emotions! this one has a similar vibe to my qh43 og snakes one, i think), idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(long a/n: my favorites - when i tell you i got carried away (again). but how could i not, when mt19 could not even play in the final cup game because he broke the bone that protects his heart? when poetry like that calls, you have to answer. the playoffs inspired me, mt19 inspired me, enough that i created this fictionalized mt19 character that is basically a bunch of insecurities personified. and the other character is just more of those in bartender form (i loved my bartending years! but they gave me a lot to think about!). so, sorry. this one’s a little sad, sometimes. but you guys seem to like the sad shit, so i hope you like this. apologies if i get caught up in the theatrics, at times. we haven’t done a takeaway in a while, so here’s one - you deserve to be chosen and loved and taken care of because you’re you, not just because you’re around. on a less serious note, can you tell how infatuated i am with mt19′s tooth gap? yeah, i know, i made it too obvious, i need to relax. i got a couple okays on the princess name, so if you don’t like it, you should have said something. am34 is up next, i’m thinking some classic older brother’s best friend, we’ll see if the muses are kind to me. please let me know what you think, i think i’ve made it obvious that your interaction means everything. also you guys literally should have seen me trying to figure out the physics of fucking against a barstool, it was legitimately ridiculous. gif is not mine. sending so so so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. see you soon. be your own first choice.

meeting new people simply came with the job of bartending. new faces filtered in and out of your bar like wisps of fragrant smoke, most of the time too fleeting to truly remember, never mind get to know.

however, the first day he entered your bar, a peculiar feeling hovered around you: the feeling that you already knew him, deeply and personally.

of course, you recognized him and his small group of teammates from the games that constantly played on the screens above the bar, but this was different. you couldn’t quite place the reason behind the feeling, not yet.

he didn’t approach the counter right away, but it was a saturday night, a busy one, so you were constantly being pulled from one patron to another, barely noticing the passage of time as your hands seemed to never stop moving.

but at some point, there he was, sitting at one of your stools, looking at you like he had all the time in the world, a confident, just bordering on arrogant smirk slanting across his face. you didn’t have the presence of mind or time to appreciate the rest of him, not right now.

but you were paid to treat all customers the same. and at the end of the day, that’s what he was, at least then. just another customer on a busy, hectic night.

“what can i get you?” you asked as you mixed a drink for the party at the other end of the counter. your voice was steady, knowing, friendly, but only just.

his smirk deepened as he leaned forward. “all business for the princess, hm?”

your brow furrowed in confusion before you realized where the name had come from. you absentmindedly adjusted the plastic tiara a birthday party had given you earlier that night - the group of girls around your age had gushed about how delicious their drinks were, how you had made their night, how you just had to have it, how it would look so pretty with your hair.

they were sweet, and they tipped well, so you didn’t push the birthday girl’s hands away when she slid the crown from her head and onto yours, even smiling a bit at the gesture. it was hard not to smile at women being girls again, and you loved the opportunity to be apart of it.

“princess is my side hustle,” you said to him now, keeping your tone even as you poured the colorful drink you were mixing into two glasses.

he made a face that you couldn’t decipher before leaning on one of his hands. “well, listen,” he started, to which you raised a brow. you didn’t like being told to listen - you just did, it was something you were good at, and being told to made you not want to anymore. he nodded to the group he came in with. “my friends over there bet that i couldn’t get your number. want to help me prove them wrong?”

you turned to drop off the drinks before running his words over in your mind. you were hit on all the time, another part of the job. people were attracted to being taken care of, and it was your job to take care of them, which always led to some misunderstandings, some one-sided crushes, some regulars that tipped much more than they needed to.

but something in your stomach dropped at his wording. you didn’t like it, not at all.

“did they?” you asked, actually focusing on his face for the first time that night as you ran a rag over the counter. his eyes were blue, so, so, blue, and almost comically confident, unwavering. as was his smirk, his full lips so perfectly placed and practiced, not quite like a natural habit but more like a learned one.

and then there was the brutal cut of his jawline, only made more prominent by his scruff of facial hair. the way his hair curled over the tops of his ears, a youthful but not juvenile look. his long lashes, elegant nose, flushed complexion, it was a little too perfect, at least for you, right now.

all of his features together appeared more like a masquerade ball mask, not a real, genuine face. it was off-putting, this actor in front of you, the one you had seen on television so many times.

he hummed in affirmation, smirked deeper.

you sighed. “that’s too bad,” you said, to which he gave you what looked like his first genuine expression of the night - one of confusion. “i only give my number to people who ask for it because they want it.”

you had long ago learned your lesson about being the person someone spent time with in order to please someone else. it never ended well.

his brow furrowed in further disbelief, complete lack of understanding, maybe a bit of shock, but you only tossed the rag aside and grabbed a glass. “now, how about a drink?”

he didn’t respond for a second, searching your face for something, maybe an explanation, less probably a spark of remorse. you let him. you weren’t going to budge on this, not tonight, not for him.

he shook out of it, literally, a small shake of his head before the mask was back on, in full strength. “yeah, sure. just an ipa, whatever you’ve got.” he addressed you by the name on your name tag, an act you normally hated, but didn’t mind so much now, in his deep tone.

you gave a small grin as you filled a tall glass. “thank god,” you started. “after the million mixed drinks i’ve had, you might just be my favorite customer.” you set the glass down on a paper napkin in front of him, only meaning to meet his eyes for a second.

once you did, though, you did a double take, now trapped in his gaze, completely transfixed on the pure hope you found there, so devastatingly poorly hidden. this, this was genuine, no mask to be found. the innocent hope lit up his eyes, his face from within, exposing an almost childlike expression that had you so deeply intrigued.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice no longer oozing with arrogance but instead with something you knew well. unbridled wanting. hope, hope, hope. he might as well have the word please scrawled all over his face in thick marker.

you felt your lips curl up at this new discovery, this crack in his exterior that gave you a sense of deja vu. “yeah, matthew,” you said, a little slowly, letting the rest of the bar melt away for a second.

this moment felt hot, sticky, like you were both suspended in amber, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.

but moments don’t last forever, and suddenly one of his friends was slapping him on the shoulder, saying something loudly about taking too long. you weren’t really listening as you watched his face again harden into that confident expression.

he ordered a round for his friends, and the moment was gone, lost in the neon light, and you were soon pulled again to another patron, the chaotic rhythm of saturday night overtaking you again.

you didn’t see him for the rest of night, caught up in your work. towards the end of your shift, though, you happened to look up, towards the door, urged by some magnetic force, and found his gaze awaiting yours right before he walked out of the door.

a real face, a real look, unveiled and vulnerable, swimming with heat and hope and a million other dangerous things. an expression so true that you had to look away from it’s veracity, complete candor. when you looked up again, he was gone, and you assumed that would be the last time you saw him.

so, a couple nights later, deep into your shift, you almost dropped the glass in your hand when you turned and found him sitting on that same stool at your counter, looking up at you expectantly with those storybook eyes.

“matthew,” you said, softly in greeting, almost a question, confused at his presence, especially on a weeknight, without his teammates. alone, seemingly.

“princess,” he responded, an imperfect smirk playing across his mouth, revealing more teeth than he had the previous night - enough that you could see the gap between his two front, a little detail so beautiful you might have sighed.

“no crown tonight,” you responded, half smiling.

“it was never the crown,” he said, to which you gave a slight shake of your head. it didn’t hide your shy delight.

“where are your friends?” you prompted, slightly suspicious.

something that looked like hurt flashed ever so briefly across his eyes. “they’ll be here, princess, don’t worry.”

you shrugged. “wasn’t worried. just wondering why you’re here alone.”

your last word seemed to strip him entirely, lay him bare in front of you, completely vulnerable. you regretted it immediately, felt almost mean.

“but i guess you’re not alone, right? you’re here with me?” you gave him a smile, tried to will one out of him, too, half-succeeded. “ipa?” you asked, eager to bring this interaction back within the boundaries you were familiar with, ones you could control.

“whatever you’ll give me,” was his odd reply, one that had you scrunch up your face instead of reaching for a glass. “ipa works.”

your voice was laced with confusion. “i know it works. what do you want, though?”

again there was that child-like look in his eyes, veiled by a thin film of doubt, uncertainty.

and somehow you thought you knew what might have been holding him back. you shifted forward, leaned on your elbows, closer than you had been to him before. “what if i promise you’ll still be my favorite, hm? will you tell me then?”

you watched his gaze dip down to your mouth as you spoke, linger there before meeting your eyes again. not like you minded, much as you wanted. a spark of warning fired in your stomach. don’t get too close, it mumbled, you can’t fill anyone’s void.

unfortunately, it was hard to deny the utter satisfaction you felt when he looked at you like this - like you had wiped away all the bad things in the world.

but then hands landed on his shoulders, loud greetings between friends exchanged, ripping you both out of the moment.

“now i know why chucky wanted to come back here,” one of them said eventually, looking at you with a gleam in his eye you didn’t quite like. “i remember you, beautiful.”

“shame,” you said, “i don’t remember you.”

he put a hand over his heart like he’d been hurt, but his smirk was brutally arrogant, almost animalistic. “how about we make sure you don’t forget my name again, yeah?”

you rolled your eyes. “matthew, come get your dog,” you said as you grabbed a couple more glasses and began to pour the same drinks they had ordered the other night.

“you want me to start barking? ‘cause i will,” the persistent teammate pushed before turning to his side. “but it seems like you’re the one she’s got on a leash, matthew.”

you watched his face carefully as you slid the drinks their way, interested to see what would win out - the desire to maintain his mask around his friends or whatever was building between you two.

you bit your lip as you watched the internal struggle play out across his face, shooting a pleading look your way for a millisecond.

you decided to throw him a bone, put his friends in their place. “i meant to tell you. i put your game on yesterday,” you said to him.

“did you?” he asked, so blissfully hopeful.

“yeah,” you said, leaning forward again, letting yourself get a truly greedy look at him. “but i like you better in person.”

you reveled in how desperately pleased he looked by your admission.

“we were playing too, you know,” someone said, half laughing.

“were you?” you asked, a theatrically confused expression on your face. you shrugged. “don’t think i saw you. maybe i was distracted.”

one of his friends laughed. “don’t feed him, beautiful, he’ll just keep coming back.”

but you didn’t even look at whoever said the comment, instead completely locked in on matthew, and he on you.

“god, i hope so,” you said, barely more than a whisper, only meant for him.

just something you said, a true thing, and yet he did. every couple of days you would look up and there he would be, on that stool at your counter, looking up at you. sometimes his friends would come, and sometimes they wouldn’t, and on nights he was playing you would always put the game on the television where you could best see it, so you could best see him.

and despite everything he did, everything he said to you, which screamed longing and interest and want, you were surprised every time he came back. surprised that his interest in you didn’t wear off after the first couple indulgences, like it seemed to with everyone else.

but, then again, matthew struck you as the kind of person who could make a home out of anything, anyone - like the kids who would cry if someone tried to come into their treehouse, as if the magic of the place was defined by it being all for them.

sometimes this job made you feel like a building with a revolving door, so many faces fading immediately as they came into your life. it felt so good to have whatever this was, this constant, even if that warning voice tried to convince you it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last.

one night, when you put his away game on, he was picking fights, antagonizing the other team, all the while chewing on that abused mouthguard, which never failed to catch your attention, send a little shiver down your spine, make you wonder what those teeth would feel like on your bottom lip, your fingers, your neck.

this night, though, the officials had had enough, and handed him a game misconduct. he skated off the ice, into the tunnel, chants and boos echoing through the arena so loudly that even the television cameras caught their strength.

still, when the camera focused in on matthew’s face, there was nothing but that cocky, knowing smirk, that one that he had showed you the first day. that fake one. you narrowed your eyes at the tv, felt your stomach turn at the fact that he could be two people at once. how could you ever trust him that way? how could you ever believe that he really, truly, wanted you? that warning voice compressed into a lump that settled in your stomach.

the lump was still there that next night, and so was he, there in his usual spot, right before you were about to close. “missed you, princess,” he said, those blue eyes so full of meaning.

and you hated how those words meant so much to you. “yeah?” you asked, wiping down the counter. “what’d you miss?”

you expected the answer that so many people in your life had given you before: how they liked how you made them feel, how you paid attention to them. nothing about you, rather something that said more about them.

so you were stunned when his gaze dropped to you lips and stayed there. “think i started to dream about your smile,” he said, and you may have sighed, just a little, as you felt your cheeks flush.

“did you watch me?” he asked, that spark of hope lighting up his face in a silent plea.

you nodded slowly, remembering the game. “wish you had stayed on the ice longer.”

he shrugged, the motion emphasizing the muscles in his shoulders and neck. you pretended not to notice.

“why do you smile when they hate you?” you asked, your head tilted in genuine curiosity, recalling his face as he made his way down the tunnel.

there was that mask again. “i love it.”

“you don’t,” you said, shaking your head slightly, watched him swallow.

“what?” he asked. you could have imagined the smallest shake in his voice.

“you don’t. you do that other smile you do.” you didn’t tell him your theory, that you knew if a crowd booed loud enough, maybe he could close his eyes and pretend they were cheering, instead. pretend it was love.

he made a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff. “what other smile?”

you bit your lip, unsure how to explain it. you reached your hands forward, paused for a moment as his eyes widened, so flooded with want. that beautiful second of expectation before a first touch, the first of what you inherently knew would be many.

“like-” you put your hands on his face, ever so lightly, moved his lips until that cocky smirk was opposite you. “like this.”

“like this, princess?” he asked through your fingers, his breath on your palms, and heat thrummed in your stomach.

you nodded slowly, reluctant to take your hands off of him. “and my favorite one is like this,” you said, moving his lips again until you were satisfied with the replica smile you had created, toothy and wide and beautiful - until you realized he was smiling at you like that anyways, without any manipulation.

you grinned back at him, melted at the simmering heat and longing in his eyes. before you could question it, you let yourself tap one finger to his front teeth, feeling the gap there, that imperfect feature you had most loved when you first saw it, felt your throat tighten at the way he was looked at you, the way he let his mouth just barely close around your finger.

a feather light motion that made your next breath come out shaky before drawing yourself away. you hadn’t realized just how close you had drifted towards him, even with the counter between you.

you glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it much later than you expected. “i need to close,” you said, clearing your throat. “i need to count the register.”

“okay.” he looked dazed. maybe in a cartoon there would have been pink mist or little hearts floating around his head.

you tried to collect yourself, ignore the phantom of his lips around your finger, a ghost of a kiss, a promise, a plea.

you gave a shake of your head. “i need to sit there. the register unlocks from that side, in front of your chair.”

your stomach dropped at the sudden darkness his eyes took on, so much so that you knew you would give in to whatever he said next.

instead of getting up, he pushed his hips up and back, spread his legs apart, settling deeper into the seat. “seat’s open, princess,” he said, and the confidence in his voice, all over his face, it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t a mask.

it was real, genuine, set ablaze by your touch.

you looked around. you were closed, everyone was gone on this monday night, except the owner, a lady older than sin who was mopping in the corner, and who was known for minding her own business.

there was nobody to judge you there, nobody to punish you for giving into this, exactly what you wanted.

time felt like jelly as you made your way around the counter, paused for a beat in front of him before he helped you up onto his lap by your waist, faced you towards the register drawer, let his arms rest around your middle.

“this okay?” he asked softly, his breathy rasp warm on your neck.

you breathed out a yes, slightly overwhelmed by all of this touch at once. his chest behind you, radiating heat, his thighs firm below you, thick arms around you. here he was, everywhere, all at the same time, and after only interacting with a counter between you, this felt almost absurdly perfect, forbidden.

so perfect that it took every semblance of your concentration to unlock the register drawer, to push the rise and fall of his chest to the back of your mind, to ignore how your own body seemed to melt into his, relax completely, an utterly miraculous contrast to the stiff, constantly active way you usually were at work.

“still okay?” he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder. you could feel his facial hair through your thin shirt, smell his cologne, knew you would smell like it, too. his thighs flexed underneath you, and you could have moaned. you were having trouble focusing on counting, never mind answering his question.

he rumbled with a laugh you felt more than heard. “princess?”

“still okay,” you managed, “but you have to be still. i need to count.”

you felt him nod and smile into your shoulder as you got to counting, the rhythm of the bills eventually lining up with the rhythm of his breathing against your back, so peaceful and right that maybe, eventually, you both would have fallen asleep like this.

“finished,” you whispered when you were done, organizing everything back where it needed to go, soaking up the last few moments of his touch for that night.

“already?” he asked, although it had probably been half an hour.

you hummed, pushed yourself up and off of him, even as his hands continued to reach for you, his gaze hungry.

so hungry it scared you. you still didn’t quite know if he just wanted someone, or if he wanted you, if he would have acted this way for anyone who asked the right questions, gave him the attention he craved, saw through his mask.

hungry, hungry, hungry, and what scared you most was that you knew that you weren’t hungry for just anyone. only for him. and that question of reciprocation, it was like injecting ice into your blood.

“it’s late,” you said. “you have to go.”

if he was hurt, he didn’t show it, seemingly completely fine with taking things however slowly you wanted to. “okay,” he said. “may i have your number, please?” there was your favorite smile.

you smiled, despite yourself. “why?”

maybe it was the late hour that caused him to misspeak when he said, “because i want you.” he quickly realized his mistake and flushed, only just. “it!” he corrected, looking like a kid with chocolate he wasn’t supposed to eat schmeared all over his face. “i meant i want it.”

you fluttered at his mix-up, delighted that maybe he meant what he said. enough that this time, you didn’t deny his request.

it was a while before you saw him again in person, as he had back to back games and then several away contests before coming home again. but, like always, you put him on the screen by the bar, feeling yourself warm every time the camera caught his face.

one night, a late night, a couple hours after one of his games had ended, you looked up and you saw him at the doorway.

a bad feeling immediately bloomed inside you.

it had been a tough loss, close until the end, and one of his stupid penalties had forced a power play goal in overtime for the opponent. worse, this result had been crucial for their playoff bid. it wasn’t looking good.

you had not expected to see him tonight - he usually didn’t come by on game nights, only on nights off. and he didn’t look right as he stood under the neon signs at the door, he looked off. he looked drunk.

his speech was slow and slurred, making you cringe. after a couple of years at this job, oh, how you hated drunk people. oh, how you never wanted to see him like this, so at the mercy of something as truly stupid as alcohol.

and even more so, how you hated to see him drink himself stupid, how you wanted to make everything all better. you signaled for the bar-back to cover for a moment.

you walked around the counter and approached him. “matthew,” you began, “what’s going on?” you tentatively touched his forearm before grabbing one of his hands, wrapping it in both of yours, bitterly aware that he was not present as you were.

“oh, princess,” he said, stumbling just a bit into your grip as you pulled him outside. he mumbled something you couldn’t hear before laughing, but the laugh was cruel, devastated.

when you were outside, the only audience was the small group of smokers that always hung around the front of the bar. you took his face in your hands. “tell me what happened.”

“what happened?” he said slowly. “what happened?” he repeated, maybe asking himself. “ruined it, always ruin it, ruin everything.” his voice came out like a haunted childlike sing-song. it made your heart shatter.

you looked in his eyes, still holding his face. “you do not ruin everything, okay? you just need to go home and sleep this off.”

“princess, princess, always tryna’ make me feel better,” he slurred, letting the whole weight of his head rest in your hands, your fingertips touching the wisps that curled around his ears. he stumbled forward into you. “need to kiss you, yeah? make me feel better.”

you dropped your hands from his cheeks as if you had been scalded. if your heart wasn’t broken before, it was now, as you pushed his chest away while he leaned forward. you felt tears begin to prickle on your waterline.

of course, he wanted you now, when he was begging to be taken care of, when he was outwardly desperate to be reassured, when his vision was probably so impaired that he couldn’t really even see your face.

of course he wanted you now, when you could have been anyone.

“one of our cabs will take you home,” you said, trying to hide the wobble in your voice as you waved one over, barely able to look at him.

he pouted. “what?” he said, teasing, but there was a bite to his tone. “don’t like me like this? not your favorite anymore?”

you didn’t have the energy to scoff. “don’t be mean. sober up. goodnight.” you opened the car door for him, forced him down into the seat.

“don’t you want to kiss me?” he pressed, looked up at you, like he had before so many times from his barstool. like he had so many times, when it had been different.

oh, how they love to be taken care of. and look at you, taking care of them. desperate, foolish girl.

and even now, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie, to say no. “ask me when you’re not out of your mind.” you shut the car door and turned away, wiped your eyes with your sleeves quickly and methodically before taking a breath and getting back to the bar, to your job.

but you were a shell of yourself for the rest of the night, his words repeating over and over again in your mind. make me feel better.

so you blocked his number that you had just added, sighed of relief when one of your colleagues mentioned his team was headed away for a long stretch on the road. a week and a half without him. surely, completely isolated from him, you could forget about what happened.

and you half-believed that, until you came into work that next day and realized you would not be completely isolated from him at all.

right next to his stool there sat a bouquet of flowers and a red jersey, folded up. you already knew what name was on the back. you stood still at the entrance, reluctant to approach the offering.

“left it earlier,” the owner called from across the room, sweeping. “i told ‘m to fuck off, but he wouldn’t.”

“thanks anyways,” you said.

“i asked him why not,” she continued, the barest hint of a smile on her thin lips.

you furrowed your brow, confused.

“asked why he wouldn’t fuck off,” she said, “took him a second.”

you breathed out a laugh.

“said you didn’t know how much he cared, yet. and he needed you to know.”

you swallowed. “that’s nice of him,” you said, running the words over in your mind.

“not everyone deserves your second chances,” she said. “but i don’t let just anyone in our bar before we open.”

the words settled between you like diamond dust. the owner finished sweeping and left.

you approached the gift, found a note sitting on top of it in terrible handwriting.

i’m sorry, it read, i’m back next thursday. i’ll ask you then. you wondered briefly what he was going to ask you before you recalled what he had said to you that night when you put him in a car. your inability to fully turn him away.

you took a shaky breath as you read the last line of the note.

even if i’m not your favorite, you’re still mine.

your stomach fluttered, surprising you. so simple, and yet those words meant everything to you. that even when he got nothing from you, he wanted you still.

you hoped and hoped and hoped he meant it, and you believed it enough that you put the flowers in a vase and wore the jersey for each of his game days.

thursday came faster than you thought it would, probably because of how nervous you were. in this time apart, anything could be true. he could mean what he said, he could want you and only you, you could be counting down the minutes until finally kissing him, touching him how you so desired.

deep down, you were so deeply afraid that when he showed up, if he even showed up, that dreamy facade would be broken, and instead all of your greatest worries and insecurities would be realized.

throughout your whole thursday night shift, you were jittery, versions of how tonight could play out flashing through your mind.

the entire night flew by, until eventually it was time to close, and you tried to ignore your heart sinking. maybe this version of tonight, the one with you alone, maybe this one was for the best.

you counted the register, began to mop, waved goodnight to the owner as she left for the night and reminded you to lock up.

you did your final wipe-down of the counter, feeling the devastation begin to finally set in. you scrunched up your face, told yourself you wouldn’t cry on your bar top.

“princess.”

you looked up, and there he was, draped in neon light, and for a second it looked like sunlight streaming in through church stained-glass windows.

the sentiment didn’t seem altogether different. how many prayers had been answered at this bar? how many homemade temples had been elicited? how many haphazard gods?

“didn’t think you were coming,” you said as he made his way over to you, sat down on his stool, exactly the same dynamic as that first day, but there was no one else. only you and him.

“it’s my fault you ever had a doubt,” he said, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes, an ocean of apology.

you nodded, tossed the rag aside, rested your forearms on the counter and looked at him, eye to eye, and waited for him to say something.

“i’m sorry,” he said simply, and there was no mask to be found, only genuine regret. “i’m sorry i showed up here the way i did, i’m sorry i embarrassed you at work, i’m sorry i made you feel like just another person.”

you felt your heart stitching itself back together, however painful the process. he gently took your hands in his, warm and rough and firm. “you’re not just another person, okay, princess?” his voice was rough.

your exhale was choppy, so forced you had to close your eyes for a second. how long had you waited to hear somebody say that to you?

“you didn’t embarrass me,” you whispered. “i could never be ashamed of you.”

he gave the smallest laugh, shook his head. “even now, that’s what you focus on. how i’m feeling.”

“only because i care about how you’re feeling,” you said, almost defensive.

“you gonna let me care about how you’re feeling?” he asked, his thumbs tracing circles on your palms.

you stayed quiet, bit your lip, searched his eyes for an trace of doubt, falseness, didn’t find any. only a slowly simmering flame, drowning in want.

“you’re too far away,” you whispered.

“i’ve always resented this counter,” he said with a hint of a smile.

you gave a small smile back as you walked around the bar top, finally stood in front of him, exhaled before sitting down on top of him, your legs straddling his hips, your faces only a breath apart. you clasped your arms around his neck, leaned forward into his chest as his hands settled on your hips.

“ask me,” you all but begged.

his voice was a low rasp, his gaze syrupy with lust. “don’t you want to kiss me?”

you nodded, and he smiled, and then you were leaning forward, finally capturing his lips in a kiss that felt like neon light and television static and a million pleases, all finally answered with of course, anything for you.

you let yourself melt into his chest, tangled a hand in his curls, felt his grip tighten on the flesh at your hips.

he smiled into your mouth when you ran your tongue along the gap between his front teeth, groaned when you began to move your hips back and forth across his lap.

you tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck as you felt him grow harder beneath you, to which he bit down ever so lightly on your bottom lip, the feeling even better than what you had imagined all those times you had watched him gnaw on his mouthguard.

he used his grip to set your hips into a rhythm as you ground down on his lap.

“want to taste you so bad, princess,” he breathed into your mouth. “let me take care of you, yeah? just want to make you feel good.”

you nodded feverishly, tugged at your clothes as he lifted you off of his lap and rested you back onto the counter.

laid bare for him, you become aware of how wet you already were, perhaps the result of all the waiting, the questioning, the wanting that had existed between you both since the beginning.

he groaned at the sight of you. “fuck,” he rasped, “so wet already, hm?” he ran a finger through your folds, brought it to his mouth and sucked. “who’s this for, princess?”

“for you,” you whimpered, so eager for him to touch you how you wanted. “for you, matthew.”

“all for me.” you could hear the satisfaction in his voice before he leaned forward and began to tease you with his tongue, forced a choked moan from your throat.

one of your hands braced the counter for stability while the other shot forward of its own volition, grasping a handful of his curls, making him grunt. the noise vibrated through you.

“fuck,” you bit out, overwhelmed. he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your hips push up into him and your grip on his hair tighten. “fuck, you’re good at that.”

you felt his smile as he pushed two fingers inside of you, began to move them in and out slowly while continuing to tongue your clit.

you moaned loudly as your eyes rolled back, the combination of sensations making it hard to control your breathing, stop your back from arching up off the counter.

he brought his other hand to your stomach and pressed down, cementing your hips down into the bar top, intensifying every shock of pleasure, immediately bringing you impossibly close. “fuck, i can’t,” you whimpered, your hand grasping for sheets that weren’t there. “can’t, shit, so close-”

he lifted his head up, thumbed your clit while curling his fingers slightly inside of you. “gonna cum for me?” he cooed.

you nodded, eyes scrunched shut.

“cum, then, princess,” he pressed. “make a mess for me, hm?”

that building wave finally crashed over you, and you gave him exactly what he wanted, reveled in the fact that you could.

you caught your breath, let out a weak exhale, opened your eyes when you felt him press a light kiss against your hip, on the side of your ribs, up to your collarbone, finally on your lips.

pressed against you, you could feel every inch of him, so hard, immediately making you hungry for him again. “more,” you pleaded simply.

“yeah?” he rasped against your lips. “want more of me?”

you palmed his cock in reply, making him hiss, helped him move his clothes aside. “need to feel you inside me.”

he shifted you off of the counter and against his stool, which you immediately bent over and rested your forearms on.

he groaned, pumped his cock once, twice. “tell me this is okay, princess.”

you nodded. “please fuck me, matthew.”

he did as told, pushing inside you entirely, barely giving you any time to adjust before he set a brutal pace, practically splitting you in half.

“holy fuck,” he choked out as you stretched around him. “shit, you’re so perfect for me. bein’ so good, princess, stretching for me so well.”

you moaned as you began to adjust to his size, every part of you still so sensitive from your last orgasm.

he built up his rhythm, forceful and deep but never so much that it hurt, only a pleasant pressure that began to build inside of you.

“so deep,” you whined, your voice muffled by your own arm, “fuck, feels so good.”

he grunted in time with a slow thrust in response, making your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation.

“want to see you,” he rasped, hooking one hand around your thigh and flipping you around before pushing back into you, so that now your back was against the stool, your front facing him, one knee bent. he groaned when your eyes met. “fuck, like that.”

you reached one arm up to his shoulder for support, rested the other one back against the stool. your thighs began to shake from the stimulation, making you clench down on him harder, urging another deep moan from him.

time disappeared as the rhythm of you both continued, so lost in the feeling of him and his noises, so perfect and better than anything you had imagined.

at one point, he brought one of his hands to your clit, began to tease you again with his thumb, while the other hand braced the back of your neck.

“hm, look, princess,” he said, his voice rough with wear, as he forced your gaze down to where your bodies met. “watch me fuck you, yeah?”

you whimpered at his crudeness, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight in front of you, his cock thrusting into you, his hands willing you to the edge again.

he let out a choked laugh. “oh, you like that, hm? feel you close.”

“fuck, i’m so close, matthew,” you whimpered, feeling your legs give out.

“‘s okay, princess, ‘m there too,” he mumbled, his motions becoming less controlled. “cum with me, yeah? want to feel you cream on my cock.”

you did as he asked, spurred on by his words, the overstimulation. you felt him reach his high with a groan, warm inside of you, his body collapsing against yours.

you held each other close for several long moments, the only noise between you satisfied breaths and shallow heartbeats. the air was warm, so peaceful, and you bit back a smile at how this bar was now forever changed - this peace would never leave.

you felt his facial hair scratch gently against your shoulder as his head rested there, so content to simply have you close.

it could have been a lifetime. it was probably a minute or two.

he was the first to speak. “so,” he said, drowsy and sweet, “you guys still open? how’re my chances of getting a captain and coke?”

you smiled. how far you had come from the man with the mask asking for anything, maybe an ipa.

if please had been written all over him before, x’s and o’s were now, in pastel pink.

“anything for my favorite,” you said, and he kissed just under your ear.

fin.

707 notes · View notes

thefishermansharbor · 11 months

Text

The main 6 as parents!

The arcana x GN!Reader (TW: Mentions of pregnancy, reader is GN but hinted at being pregnant in Asra's chapter, light cursing.)

Asra Alnazar:

Again, someone who prefers adoption. A lot like Muriel, his past trauma of being an orphan on their own in aplace as dangerous as the Vesuvian docks made him want to be an open and safe place for children.

If you do get pregnant though, he turns to his mother. She’s experienced it - she might know what to do to in order for him to make it easier for you. He’ll research spells to lessen pain and morning sickness, and stuff like that.

He would love to give them a name dedicated to your love - for example, a combination of your names, or he might name them after some place special to the two of you.

Asra is a pretty chill parent. He’s not too bothered about what they do, as long as it’s safe and makes them happy. If they do get in trouble, he’ll use non-violent and pretty lenient punishments. Ex : Taking a toy away for a few hours, making them sit in time-out, etc.

He wants his kids to be free - spirited and do what makes them happy. Even if this makes his kids go for what might not be the safest option, he just wants them to feel empowered.

As a new parent, one can’t help but feel scrambled. Asra is no exception. Dealing with a newborn baby is not for the worried - or faint of heart. It’s especially not for those who don’t do well with little sleep.

This is what led him to his parents. He knocked on their door, hoping they’d come quickly. He didn’t know how much longer of his son’s screaming he could take. His mother opened the door, surprised.

“ .. who could it be at this hour.. Asra?” Aisha rubbed at her eyes, trying to rub the sleep away. “ .. what are you doing here, baby? Come in,”

He sighed, “ Sorry to bother you, mom.” She ushered him inside, “ It’s alright, hunny.” It took her a minute to register everything, she noticed the baby only once he’d gotten inside.

“ .. How’s ___? Are they keeping alright? How’s–” The realization hit her like a truck. “ oh my god! Did they go into– is that..?” He nods, and she bursts into tears.

“ Oh, Asra! You’re a father, you’re.. I’M a grandma! Before he could blink, Aisha wipes her tears. “ What’s it’s name?”

“ His name is Jordan, mom. He’s– a week old,”

“ why didn’t you tell me sooner, Asra?” She sighed.

“ I’ve been meaning to but things had come up and – well, I need your help.” Asra scratched the back of his neck.

“ Of course! What is it?”

“ .. how do you make a baby stop crying? I’ve tried everything.”

She laughs. “ give him to me.”

Asra hands her the baby, and as if it’s magic – Jordan stops crying full stop. He actually goes to sleep in Aisha’s arms.

“ H-how’d you do that?” Asra’s face with a mix of impression and surprise.

“ .. Grandma magic, hunny.” She winked,

Lucio Morgasson:

He has it rooted in his mind that children have to be biological to be the perfect ‘heir’ to Vesuvia. He’d push for it to be that way – but if you really wanted to adopt, he’d be just as an enthusiastic parent no matter what.

Lucio wants a larger family but to be honest, he wouldn’t be able to handle more than one kid.

If you adopt, he’s fine with adopting any age. If you get pregnant, he’d only give the best for you. He always has the finest made for you, but even more so. Although he, personally, isn’t much help - the castle staff are on higher guard and listen to you much more.

He’s totally a girl dad. His daughter wants him to wear a tutu and tiara? Goddamnit, he’s wearing one.

He’s a fun parent but he does what he wants - and his kids follow that. He doesn’t feel the need to be patient, or act in benefit of his kids. He’s really chaotic, and doesn’t recognize that he should be nurturing his kids, not partying with them.

“ Daddy! Daddy!” Lily shouts, grabbing his pant leg. He looks down, and smiles. “ There she is! What is it, silly-lily?” He tickles her face, and she giggles.

“ Auntie Nadi taught me how to paint my nails!” She confidently shows off some poorly done pink nail polish. He does a mock gasp and claps, “ they look amazing! Anyways, you were saying..”

“ Can I paint your nails, daddy? Pretty please?” She gives him those puppy dog eyes he can never say no to. He wasn’t too bothered about going to the event on Vesuvian finances, spending time with his daughter sounded a lot more fun.

“ Sure.”

That’s was all he needed to say. She flipped open a bag, and took several colors out. “ Which one do you want, daddy?” He surveys them, and chooses a deep blood red.

She paints carefully.. But a 6 year old can only paint so well. It’s messy, but she tried her best. Even though it’s messy, Lucio seems pretty happy with it. Valerius passes by, and notices it.

“ My count.. What are you doing?”

“ Getting my nails painted, obviously.”

Valerius rubbed his temples, “ My count, you cannot be serious. No one will take you seriously with that mess on your hands..”

Lucio furrows his brow. “ How dare you suggest that this is anything other than pure artwork!? I look absolutely FABULOUS. You are just too incompetent to recognize this pure beauty!” He winks at his daughter, who’s staring at him in awe. Valerius walks off, too tired to deal with Lucio.

Julian Devorak:

He personally would like to have biological kids. There’s really no reason for it, he just wants it and knows, being a doctor, that he can handle a pregnant partner well. He’d also want to have multiple kids, because his relationship with Portia is really good and he’d want his kids to have that experience too.

If you prefer to adopt, he would try and convince you to have biological children, but if you really didn’t, he wouldn’t keep pushing it.

He’d want to name one after Portia. She was what kept him alive at one point, and he knows that she’s special and deserves it - so as long as you’re fine with it, he wants that to happen.

He would be the authority parent. Definitely the “ just wait until your father gets home,” and he’s fine with that. He’s a very tactile parent otherwise, and is very sweet with his children.

Once they get to be older, he does try and embarrass them a bit. But it’s all in good fun and he doesn’t mean to really offend them.

He sighs, happy the long day of work is over for him. He jingles his keys in the door and walks through the entryway of your shared home. “ I’m home!” He shouts.

Two little kids come instantly running in from the living room. A little girl with bouncy brown curls hugs his leg, and a slightly older boy runs right up in front of him.

“ papa! You’re back!” The girl says, the boy nods. “ You’ll never guess what we did today!”

“ oh, really?” He says, taking his coat off. You walk through afterwards, sighing and smiling at the two of them.

“ Pasha, Ivan! Let your father get in the door.”

“ but ___! He’s been gone for agesss…” Ivan complains, “ yeah! And we have so much to tell him!” Pasha chimes in. Julian ruffles Ivan’s hair, and then tickles Pasha’s chin. “ It’s alright, dear. I love the attention,” You roll your eyes, leaning on the doorway. He walks over and kisses you on the cheek, before his hands travel to your back and he kisses you on the lips.

Your daughter looks away in horror, and your son boos. “ Ew, you guys! Stop, that’s nasty!”

Julian chuckles and steps back, you put your head on his shoulder.

“ – well, tell me about your day then, kids.”

He ushers them both into the next room, and you can’t help but smile and get that warm and safe feeling in your heart. You love them.

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