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sansaorgana · 30 days

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— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (IX)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT || PART TEN

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC

SUMMARY — Feyd-Rautha focuses on bringing back the spice production to full efficency while his wife plots against The Baron. The ghosts of her past are haunting her in the Arrakeen Palace where her family lived and died.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. This chapter is quite long so I think the next one will be the last...? Of course I am open to write some additional chapters with these characters in the future 👀 Thank you everyone supporting my work 🙏🏻😭 I don't know when I'll post the next / last chapter. Next week I hope but it might take me more time than usual because I have to catch up with uni work finally lol

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death

WORD COUNT — 8,170

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (IX)

Feyd-Rautha was barely able to hide his excitement on that day. Becoming the Governor of Arrakis was a huge deal – not only it proved that he was his uncle’s worthy successor if he was given such responsibility, but also Arrakis remained the most important planet under the Harkonnen rule due to the spice resources. Controlling this planet was like controlling the universe.

Before the official ceremony would begin, he had to deal with the formalities, all dressed up in the accurate black leather attire and pride on his face. Then his wife entered the throne room accompanied by the guards and from that moment he could only focus on her.

Her black leather dress’ design was mimicking his uniform’s one and her face was hidden by the veil made of chains and gemstones. She walked past him and bowed down in front of his uncle. Feyd knew that was the custom but it still made him clench his jaw and blood boil.

She straightened herself and fixed her dress on her abdomen as it was getting too tight in that area. Feyd smirked at the sight of her womb getting visibly swollen with his child. With his heir.

His wife signed the contract about him becoming the new Governor of Arrakis as the Atreides signet ring sparkled on her pinky finger. The truth was, her signature was not required there at all but the Baron loved to humiliate her in this way. However, she managed to do it with such dignity. Feyd wondered if she still felt like an Atreides. That signet ring wasn’t leaving her pinky finger at all ever since it had been adjusted to her size.

He wondered if it was a symbol of power for her or did she keep it for sentimental reasons.

Sentiment. That word was new in Feyd-Rautha’s dictionary. But now, when he watched his wife standing behind him with her hands clasped on her womb, he swore he could feel it.

He couldn’t explain most of the things happening inside his body at the sight of her. It was more than plain desire or sexual attraction. In fact, he had had lovers more adventurous than her and surely more experienced. But he had never met a woman like that.

She made him think of his mother, especially now, when she was expecting his child. He wondered what kind of mother she would be. Would she… love… his son? Or would he be another pawn in her court games…?

His mother was cold and distant but only recently Feyd had realised it was no reason to kill her. Was it possible that some part of him regretted it? His uncle had manipulated him into doing something he couldn’t truly understand back in the day – an act impossible to undo and sealing his murderous fate.

But even his mother had never touched him so gently like his wife. And he knew that it was weak to crave that but he did – he craved more from her and her only. He would kill anyone looking at her the wrong way but she could disrespect him in any way and he’d still be on his knees for her. He had never been as obedient to his uncle. He had feared him as a little boy and then he had hated him, waiting for his turn on the Harkonnen throne. The obedience to his wife was dictated by admiration and… sentiment.

Yes, that was a new word in his dictionary.

And his harpies… Well, he had been attached to them but killing them had felt cold – he hadn't even felt sorry.

The room slowly filled with people who were to witness his nomination for the Governor of Arrakis. Feyd stood proudly and already imagined the day he would be nominated The Baron Harkonnen.

And when his uncle officially named him the Governor, Feyd grabbed his face and brought it down for an angry kiss that was a mockery of gratitude. In that kiss there was a promise of the upcoming succession of the much more important title. In that kiss there was the Harkonnen poison and everyone cheered but the Baron knew.

He knew.

You were laying on your bed on the ship inside your cabin and playing with the Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. It felt surreal to realise that under different circumstances you would had made the same journey a few months earlier with your family when your father had been gifted Arrakis.

Your stream of thoughts was interrupted abruptly by Feyd walking inside the cabin.

“Apparently, Rabban has no idea we are coming,” he announced with a smirk and sat on the bed next to you, waiting for your approval like a little boy after telling his mother exciting news.

“Why do you hate him so?” You only asked and his smirk dropped in an instant. “Is he not your brother?”

“Do you love yours?” Feyd tilted his head a little as he watched you carefully.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you smiled sadly at him and caressed your bump. “He is dead and so is his older sister. But in that relationship, I was Rabban and Paul was you.”

“I am better than Rabban. He means nothing,” Feyd shrugged his arms, visibly annoyed at the fact that you scolded him and started asking questions instead of sharing his excitement.

“Do you think you will catch a tan on Arrakis?” You changed the subject and chuckled at the confused glance he gave you.

“I’m not going there for vacation,” he moved closer to you on the bed and placed his hand on your womb. You felt its warmth spreading all over your body. “And neither are you,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

“The medic says that the Arrakis might do you good. The sun and all,” Feyd explained, a bit awkwardly.

“Yes, I know. But it is also not a very pleasant environment. It is hot and dry,” you sighed. “And full of spice.”

“You will have everything you want and need there, my Baroness,” Feyd leaned in to suck on your neck – his idea of a romantic kiss. You leaned back and sighed at the pleasure.

“How big do you think he is now?” You caressed your husband’s hand gently and he moved away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “Our son. Do you think he is still smaller than your hand?” You bit on your lower lip. “I like to imagine him so little that your hand covers him whole when you place it on my womb.”

“Do you think of him often?” Feyd asked and you furrowed your brows at his question.

“Of our son?” You wanted to make sure and he nodded. “All the time,” you answered with all honesty. “And you…?” You asked, carefully.

“All the time,” Feyd nodded and looked down at his hand caressing your bump.

“And what do you think?” You were scared to know the answer but you needed to know it.

“I’m proud to have a son. He will be the Baron one day and I will train his body to become even stronger than mine. And you will train his mind to be sharp like yours,” Feyd looked at you. He was serious but you chuckled at that as you caressed his cheek with your thumb.

“Just promise me that you won’t do to him what has been done to you,” you whispered as the smile disappeared from your face. “Please,” you pleaded.

“It has to be done,” was all he said as his jaw clenched.

“No, it doesn’t,” you shook your head. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes. Thinking of what your husband had gone through was painful enough but imagining your son going through the same thing was even worse.

“How else do you want him to be a great warrior?” Feyd laughed at you. “He will need discipline.”

“Discipline does not have to mean abuse. I want him to follow your steps out of admiration and respect. Do you want your own son to feel the same way towards you that you feel towards your uncle?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want your son to plot how to get rid of you? To wait impatiently for you to finally die and rot?”

“No, I do not,” he admitted after a short while of hesitation.

“Then we will do it my way,” you stated.

“I don’t want my children to be weaklings,” Feyd drawled as his hand squeezed your womb possessively.

“Neither do I,” you assured him. “And it insults me greatly that you think that I would raise them to be weak. I hate weakness,” you gave him a stern look.

“There’s your answer why I hate my brother,” he said and moved down to lay his head on your womb. You carefully caressed his temples in a soothing manner.

You still had to play little games with him sometimes, you assumed it would always be like this one way or another. But you loved him. Yes, you loved him.

Princess Atreides would rather die than admit that. For the Harkonnen na-baroness it was difficult to admit her feelings, too. But you didn’t mind giving up and finally allowing yourself to confess the truth. It was making you feel less lonely in the world. Perhaps it was love dictated by the fact you had no one else around. Perhaps you loved the way he worshipped you. Perhaps you loved him for the way he was making you feel so powerful and important. But at the end of the day, it was love. Not that you planned to say it out loud.

It was true that you hated weakness but Feyd-Rautha was yours. If he was to die, you’d die, too. You had no home to go to, no family member to turn to. All you had was him. Him and the dream of the life you two were supposed to live one day.

You knew that the black colour was a bad choice for the planet like Arrakis. But you couldn’t imagine wearing anything else. As a Harkonnen you had to establish dominance in your House’s way. Your arrival dress had to be black and made of a flowy material with a semi-transparent veil to protect your skin from the hot rays of sunshine and the wind full of harsh sand and spice.

The very first step you took outside the ship nearly made you dizzy. It felt so odd after so many months to feel the sunlight on your skin and to see the colours while not being inside any building – even if the colours of Arrakis were not many.

“My Lady,” Astra and Cara followed you outside, both widening their big, black Harkonnen eyes at the sight of the desert, “are you alright?”

“Yes, my girls, I am,” you held their hands.

“Let’s go inside, na-baroness,” the medic joined you. “At this time of the day it is recommended not to go out,” he explained and you nodded before following him with your girls, guards and all the servants carrying your things. Feyd was already inside the palace with his uncle and dealing with an embarrassed and humiliated Rabban.

You looked up through your veil and examined the sight of the building in front of you. It was not much cosier than the Harkonnen fortress on Giedi Prime. On the inside the design was raw as well, but some part of you was already used to such an environment.

“My Lady,” one of the servants approached you. He had already been living there for quite some time now as he had come to Arrakis with Count Rabban. “Shall we prepare the rooms for you and na-baron or will you take the room that belonged to the previous Duke? Count Rabban did not take it, therefore we left it untouched,” he informed you and you froze for a second.

“My father’s room? It is left untouched?” You gasped.

“Yes, my Lady na-baroness, Duchess Atreides,” the man was bowing down so low you became concerned about his spine.

“Enough of the titles, take me there,” you ordered and then you turned around at your servants. “Wait here. I will let you know what room I am taking.”

“My Lady,” they all nodded as you followed the man alone. You didn’t want even Astra and Cara around you because you couldn’t tell what your reaction to your father’s chambers would be.

“Behind that door, na-baroness,” the servant bowed down and pointed at the doors. You pushed them and let them close behind you as your body trembled at the sight. You lifted the veil off of your face and looked around.

The room was arranged in a similar way as your father’s chamber back on Caladan. Duke Leto hated any form of mess and he had everything always put in its place. You wandered around and touched all the personal belongings – his chair, his desk… You froze at the sight of the pictures he had there. One picture was of him and Lady Jessica, the other one was of you and Paul. There was even a tiny picture from his wedding day with your mother. You remembered that picture very well as you had once asked him about it. He had told you he kept it out of respect for her and for you.

You had no idea he would still keep it even if you weren’t around.

You opened the desk. Someone had been rummaging inside – most likely to take the jewellery and the important documents. But the personal letters stayed. Personal letters and… a small doll.

You had given it to him at the age of four and asked him to take care of it. You didn’t expect he had been keeping it all these years.

“Oh, father…” you whispered and brought the doll close to your heart. “One day, it will be my daughter’s,” you decided and were about to walk away from the desk when you spotted an unfinished letter.

Carefully and curiously, you picked the paper up and read the few sentences that he had written down before taking a break and never being able to go back to it again.

Dear Daughter, I am aware of the anger and all the resentment you must be holding in your heart towards me. I am not asking for much but please, write back to us. If not for me, then do it for Paul. We both miss you dearly and we are worried when you are not answering our letters personally. All we want to know is if you are safe and…

Your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat. So, they had been writing to you. All this time... And only Baron Harkonnen knew how many letters had been kept away from you. Of course he had lied to you. How could you be so stupid…?

You clenched your fist and then threw the crumpled paper back into the drawer. It didn’t change anything now. It brought you some peace, deep down, but it didn’t mean anything anymore. It wouldn't take back time.

You approached your father’s bed and spotted a robe laying there, discarded. He would wear that over his nightwear when he was leaving the room in the middle of the night due to an emergency. You assumed that the Harkonnen invasion was an emergency so sudden and violent that he had no time to put it on.

The robe was silk and dark green with the Atreides emblem on the chest. You sat on the edge of the bed and put the doll down on your lap before taking the robe in your hands and squeezing it as you brought it to your face. It still faintly smelled like him. It smelled like your father.

You buried your face in the silk and closed your eyes, remembering his embrace. For a short while it was almost as if he was still there, holding you and telling you it would be alright.

But it wasn’t alright. It hadn’t been alright and his daughter had died. You couldn’t tell when it happened exactly. Had Princess Atreides die in that cell on the night before her wedding? Or when she had been locked up after the Baron had told her about going to Arrakis and killing her family? Or maybe she had died somewhere in the meantime. Perhaps when she had seen Feyd taking an innocent life for the first time. It was really hard to tell but she was definitely gone now.

You startled at the sound of someone entering the room without knocking. It was Feyd – no one else would dare to do that.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said and froze at the sight of you holding your father’s robe. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you stood up and threw the robe on the floor as you picked the doll up. “Burn it,” you ordered. “And we’ll take a different room. They can clean up this one,” you approached him and handed him the doll in your hands. He took it, confused.

“What is this?” He asked.

“Our next child will be a daughter and you will give it to her when she is born,” you told him sternly.

He snorted at first but then he realised that you had been dead serious. The doll held lots of significance and meaning to you and he didn’t even have any idea how much you trusted him with it.

Feyd nodded his head after a long while and he looked down at the doll, awkwardly holding her in his pale hands.

“My Lady, what is your decision?” The servant knocked upon the door and joined you.

“I don’t want this room, clean it up,” you told him.

“Do you want a room next to your husband’s, na-baroness?” He asked.

“No, we will share one room,” you told him and he bowed down before leaving you quietly. “Unless you want your own,” you laid your eyes on Feyd.

“I want what you want.”

You were walking through the endless desert. It was like the oceans back on Caladan but instead of the water there was sand. The heat did not bother you and you did not feel tired at all. However, all this walking seemed pointless. You didn’t know where you were or where to go.

And then you spotted someone on the horizon. A tiny figure in a stillsuit and your heart skipped a beat. Was it one of the Fremen? You didn’t want to find out but your legs kept walking anyway as if you had no control over your body.

The figure remained motionless. After a while you spotted it was a man. You wondered why he was not reacting at all, seeing you walking towards him. Perhaps he was waiting for you. But why?

When you were close enough to see his face, you gasped. It was your brother, Paul Atreides, with his eyes blue from the spice, wearing a Fremen armour and he seemed to stare in the distance. Now you realised that he couldn’t see you even though you were facing him.

“Paul?” You asked as your body stopped walking with your face inches away from his. “Brother?”

He startled a little and furrowed his brows. Did he hear you…?

“Paul,” you said again and his eyes found yours.

“Sister,” his voice was different now. It was rough and held no affection. It made your blood run cold.

“What are we doing here?” You asked sadly. “Let’s go back home.”

“What is home now?”

“Caladan,” you explained.

“We cannot.”

You woke up abruptly and sat up, breathing heavily as you felt the sweat running down your spine and forehead. You had never experienced a dream so vivid and realistic as this one.

You assumed it was because of Arrakis. The heat could cause such a vision or perhaps it was all that buried deep down grief after losing your family. Being here now, in that palace where they had lived and died, it was making you feel odd.

Feyd woke up as well and you heard him reaching out for the knife underneath his pillow.

“It’s alright,” you told him. “I’ve just had a bad dream.”

“It’s your first night on Arrakis. Maybe it’s the spice messing with your head,” you felt his hand rubbing your back. “Lay down, come to me,” he whispered and you did.

You laid your head on his chest and hugged him tight like a scared child. Your heart was pounding and you felt dizzy. But you didn’t want to tell your husband what the dream was. He didn’t ask anyway.

On the next day you were gathered in a conference room. Everyone was there, the Baron and Count Rabban, too. You hoped that they would go back to Giedi Prime but it seemed like they wanted to stay and ensure that the spice production would go back to normal. You tried not to make a face at that as you watched the hologram globe of Arrakis in front of you on display.

“Shouldn’t the Fremen delegation greet the new Governor of Arrakis?” You asked.

“The Fremen do not have negotiations with us anymore. We are in the state of war, na-baroness,” one of the engineers answered you with a nod of his head.

“Let it be war, then,” you nodded back.

“What is causing the biggest problems?” Your husband asked as he gave his brother a contemptuous look. “Apart from the bad governing of the resources.”

“The Fremen have a new leader, a mysterious Muad’Dib,” The Baron explained and for some reason a shiver went down your spine at the mention of the name. You didn’t know why because it didn’t sound sinister or dangerous.

“And what about him?” Feyd asked. You could hear he was bored of the meeting and wanted real action as soon as possible.

“They are destroying our machinery and killing our soldiers, slowing down the production. He is unstoppable. Like a shadow,” Rabban explained and Feyd snorted at him.

“My big scary brother failed to deal with one Fremen savage,” he drawled. “Instead of slaughtering them all.”

“And what would our Baroness do?” The Baron interrupted Feyd and stared at you with a smirk. Suddenly, the whole room laid their eyes on you and you blinked a few times, surprised.

“Why would you ask a woman that?” Rabban inquired and Feyd hissed at him for that remark.

“Because I want to know her insight. Our Baroness happens to have interesting ideas,” Baron teased, his squinted eyes never leaving yours.

“I would oppose slaughtering the Fremen,” you stated.

“I’ve told you, she’s just a woman,” Rabban laughed.

“She is the Governess of Arrakis and your na-baroness and you will respect her,” Feyd barked.

“Enough!” You banged the fist on the table and the sound echoed through the chamber full of the Harkonnen servants and engineers widening their eyes at you. “Both of you!” You snapped. “Acting like children,” you scolded. “I am not the Governess of Arrakis, Feyd,” you laid your eyes on him and he looked a bit taken aback by your outburst. “That title does not work that way. You’re the Governor and I am your wife. However,” you looked at the Baron again. He was smirking all that time. “I do not think slaughtering them will bring us profit. They know the desert and the spice more than we do. We need them as obedient allies. But in order to have them as allies, we have to defeat them and their will to fight. We need to hit them with aggression that they have not yet seen nor experienced in their worst nightmares,” you raised your chin up.

“And that aggression is Feyd-Rautha,” Baron nodded at your husband.

“If we have negotiations with the Fremen in the future, I’d like to be there,” you announced and Rabban snorted. You knew that he did not mean these things personally, he was just frustrated that he was being replaced by his brother and seeing that an off-world woman was holding more influence than him had to be rough for his ego.

“What’s so funny, brother?” Feyd asked him and you rolled your eyes. They were at it again. “The only thing I find funny is how my wife has more brains than you.”

“And why is that funny?” You asked him, irritated.

“That is enough indeed,” Baron raised his hand. “We all have better things to do,” he announced and everyone bowed their heads as he left the room.

You watched your husband and his brother leaving right behind him, still having an argument like little children. Then you took a deep breath in and stood up to go back to Astra and Cara.

However, when you left the room, Feyd grabbed his brother’s neck and pushed him down on the floor. He basically threw him at your feet and you were surprised that he had managed it so easily since Rabban was a big and strong man.

“You will kiss her shoe and show your na-baroness respect,” Feyd ordered, “as you beg for her forgiveness.”

You looked down as Rabban looked up, scared. As much as it brought you some satisfaction to have a big, strong Harkonnen count who was called Beast Rabban at your feet, you felt sorry for him, too.

“Feyd, there is no need,” you looked at your husband.

“No, there is, because I say so,” he insisted and kicked his brother’s head. “He will kiss your shoe or die.”

“I said, there is no need,” you repeated, more sternly this time. “Your brother is not my enemy like he is not yours either,” you pointed out. “Stand up, Count Rabban,” you ordered the man.

Carefully and hesitantly he moved up, trying to avoid looking into your eyes.

“You shall remember the kindness I have given you,” you told him and he nodded. “Now, leave.”

You watched him walk away as fast as possible and then you looked at your husband. He wasn’t pleased but he was trying to hide it. You could tell when he was angry very easily from his facial expressions by now.

“Do not torment him. He might be useful,” you told him.

“He will do anything to keep his pathetic head on. He’s got no honour,” Feyd snorted at that. “He would kiss anyone’s shoe if his life depended on it.”

“Then he is more like me than I have expected,” you only said and walked past him, leaving him behind, surprised.

“You are not like him,” Feyd followed you as he grabbed your wrist. “You have honour.”

“Do I?” You chuckled and turned around to face him. “I did everything to survive. It had nothing to do with honour. I became a Harkonnen instead of doing what my Atreides pride was telling me to do and that was to kill myself before letting any of you hurt me or change me.”

“It is different,” he was trying to deny your words. You were confusing him now.

“You also do not have honour, Feyd-Rautha. The way you used to fight drugged warriors in the arena. It has nothing to do with honour,” you reminded him as his jaw clenched. “And you know what? I don’t care,” you shrugged your arms. “My father, he was an honourable man. And look where it has gotten him. We are too cunning for honour.”

“We?” Feyd asked.

“The Harkonnens,” you explained and cupped his face to pull his head down and place a kiss upon his forehead. “Now, go, weren’t you supposed to terrorise the poor Fremen?”

He smirked at you and leaned in to place a hungry kiss upon your lips as his hand caressed your womb.

“Be careful, my darling, come back to me in one piece from the treacherous desert,” you bid him farewell and kissed him one last time before going back to your chambers.

Weeks had passed and the mysterious Muad’Dib remained uncaught, however the spice production came back to full efficiency. It was difficult to celebrate such victory, though, because you weren’t even sure if it was because of Feyd-Rautha being a good Governor or was it because of his uncle who still was present on Arrakis. Both him and Rabban. You wondered how things had been back on Giedi Prime – especially now, when all the important Harkonnens were on Arrakis.

You had your girls and your medic and much less nosy guards following you everywhere. The Arrakeen Palace was giving you lots of freedom and safety but it was also a much more boring place than the fortress on Giedi Prime. It was full of ghosts, too – you couldn’t stop thinking your family had been slayed in that very place.

You kept dreaming of Paul each and every night. It was making you feel weary and frustrated at this point. You didn’t want Feyd to know so you often would leave the bed quietly in the middle of the night and walk outside to sit on the balcony. There was something fascinating about the desert; it was so calm yet dangerous. By day it was too hot to just stare and admire but at night it was peaceful and with no one around to bother you.

Tonight you were standing and admiring the moon in your nightgown, with your hand caressing your swollen womb. It was getting bigger and bigger each day and you could feel the child move now. The medic assured you he was placed properly and growing healthy. You wondered if your son would be born on Arrakis.

“What’s wrong?” Feyd’s voice made you turn around. He was standing by the entrance to the balcony and staring at you.

“I can’t sleep,” you lied. You could but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to dream of Paul.

“Again?” Feyd sighed and approached you. He stood behind you and leaned your body on his chest. It made you sigh out of relief and he placed his hands on your abdomen. “Perhaps the spice is doing you harm.”

“No, the medic would have noticed that,” you shook your head. “Perhaps it’s your son keeping me awake,” you made up a believable excuse and Feyd chuckled.

“And what are you doing here? Staring at the sand?”

“I don’t expect you to understand the beauty of the desert,” you teased. “But yes, the sand, the moon, everything.”

“When I will become the Baron, we will have a little tour and visit every planet under Harkonnen rule,” he whispered into your ear. “You will see many beautiful things, my darling pet.”

“And when will that be?” You snapped, frustrated. “In ten years? A hundred?” You snorted.

“What are you talking about?” Feyd took a step back and leaned on the railing to take a better look at your face but you remained staring in the distance.

“What is he still doing here? I thought Arrakis was ours. Yet, he is here and it feels as if we are being supervised. Meanwhile, Giedi Prime remains without protection,” you drawled through gritted teeth.

“If you were him, would you leave us two to each other?” Feyd asked.

“Are you by his side again?” You finally looked at him, angrily. “He gave you the planet to govern and you’re defending him again?”

“I am not defending him,” Feyd got angry, too, at your words. “But it is obvious why he stayed here. He knows we might be plotting. He needs to keep an eye on things.”

“I have already plotted,” you lowered your voice and went back to staring at the moon.

Feyd kept looking at you in silence for a while before he finally spoke up again.

“And what is that?”

“He shall be slayed by night alongside most of the guards and servants. We will say it was a nighttime assassination attack by Muad’Dib and his people. They targeted the Harkonnen nobility and you were too busy saving your pregnant wife to help your uncle,” you whispered.

“Everyone will know the truth, it's too obvious,” Feyd told you. “It's only giving us an alibi for those who want to believe in it.”

“Of course they will suspect what really happened but they will not care. You showed them your worth in the arena and you brought back the full efficiency of the spice production. The Harkonnen lords will give you a chance. I am sure they’ve already grown tired and weary of the Baron,” you kept convincing him.

“What if Muad’Dib suddenly decides to show up and deny?”

You sighed and looked at him again, furiously.

“Just admit that you don’t want him dead, because in some way I cannot understand… you love him,” you hissed at him.

“Love?” It was the first time you heard him use that word and it brought a chill down your spine. It sounded so off and scary when your husband said it out loud. “I don’t know what that pathetic feeling is,” he assured you.

“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow at him and walked away to leave the balcony and go back to your bedroom.

You were hurt, angry and frustrated and it was starting to bring tears to your eyes but you didn’t want him to see that.

Your husband followed you to the bedroom. In the way his footsteps were even heavier than usual, you spotted his annoyance as well.

“What do you expect of me? You’re so impatient, woman,” he started once the doors closed behind him. “You want everything and you want it now. I said I’d do it, I swore I’d do it but you admitted yourself we have to wait longer. If he dies here at night, do you think the noble lords of Giedi Prime will accept that so easily?”

“Then slay the ones who refuse to accept you as the successor!” You turned around with the rage making your blood boil. “Slay everyone standing in our way, as you promised. Do you want our son to be born in a world that he is manipulating for his own gain? Do you want to be his dog following the orders for the next few years? I am tired of playing the games with him on his own chess board. I want to make my own game, my own rules, my own board!” You tried to keep your voice down in case someone would spy on you but it was difficult with all that anger pouring out of you.

In one swift move, Feyd grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks as he brought your face so close to his that your noses were rubbing each other. There was so much anger in his eyes that the old you would start trembling out of fear for her life but the new you didn’t even flinch.

“Keep your voice down, we will do it,” he spat out.

“No,” you mumbled. “You will do it. You’re the hand that slays,” you reminded him and he kissed you so hungrily that you became breathless.

“I still want to kill you sometimes,” he confessed between one kiss and another as he led you back to your bed and laid you down on the mattress. “Choke you, slit your pretty little throat, watch you squirm under me as you bleed to death.”

“Whatever turns you on, my darling,” you chuckled at him as he looked at you sternly.

“If I hurt you, I’d kill myself right after. I’m bound to you forever,” he confessed and you smiled gently.

You didn’t want to tease him that after all, he did know what love was. After all, he did feel it. But you knew that he’d hate being confronted with the truth.

“If something happened to you, I would want to die alongside you, too,” you told him. “You’re the only one I have and none of my ambitions matter without you by my side.”

It was true. You didn't want to rule alone. In fact, you didn't want to ever feel lonely in your life again.

You were sitting next to Paul and watching the sunset in silence. In your dreams you would always meet him in the desert. Nothing else seemed to exist on Arrakis in the dreamworld – except for you and him.

“Why do you haunt me?” You asked and laid your eyes on his angry face. He was always so angry these days.

You hated Paul from your dreams. He was different. There was no kindness and gentleness about him anymore. If you were supposed to be haunted by his ghost, you’d rather be haunted by the brother you had remembered instead.

“I am not here for you,” Paul snorted and you furrowed your brows. Then he looked down at your swollen womb and you instinctively protected it with your hands.

“What do you mean?” You gasped.

“The spawn inside you shares my blood on both sides,” he answered mysteriously, which confused you greatly but you decided not to give it a second thought. After all, it was just a dream. “No, it is not,” Paul smirked viciously at you, as if he was able to read your thoughts.

“Get up,” you heard Feyd’s rough voice as his hand shook your arm. You woke up abruptly and sat up, trying to calm yourself after the dream.

“What’s going on?” You asked and looked around the dark room.

“Come with me,” your husband looked very pleased with himself as he pulled you out of the bed.

“What are you–”

“Shh,” he put his finger over his mouth as he led you outside.

You gasped at the sight of the bodies scattered all over the corridor of the palace. Servants and guards with their throats slit, laying in poodles of their own blood.

“Have you done that?” You asked quietly and Feyd nodded. “My girls…” you gasped.

“I haven’t touched your pets,” he assured you and stopped in front of the doors leading to the Baron’s chambers.

“Have you killed him…?” You were both excited and terrified of the outcome if the answer was yes. But, most importantly, you were in shock.

“Not yet,” Feyd answered as he pushed the doors open in front of you.

Not sure what his words meant, you entered the chamber carefully and spotted the Baron on his bed, letting out loud and raspy breaths. His life support machinery was no longer attached to him; you assumed Feyd had decided to give him a slow death.

You looked at your husband and spotted a sadistic sparkle in his eye as he was visibly enjoying the sounds and the view. He put his arm around you and walked you closer to the Baron’s bed.

That old and sick man looked pathetic at that moment and for a short while you even felt sorry for him. His eyes widened even further at the sight of you as he raised one of his hands towards you but you took a step back.

You didn’t know what to expect of him on his deathbed. Some part of you craved for him to admit his defeat and name you a worthy successor of the Harkonnen throne. Some other part of you expected him to curse you and your whole bloodline, which would be quite justified.

However, you certainly did not expect the sheer desperation and debasement.

“P-please…” He could barely speak. “Please, help me,” he tried to reach out for you.

You didn’t feel sorry for him anymore. You felt disgusted.

“You’re a weakling,” you smirked at him. “You called my father weak but I am sure that he did not beg like a dog on his deathbed. I am sure he died with dignity.”

“Please, help me…” He coughed out. “Help me and I will make your son an Emperor…”

“I do not need you to make my son an Emperor,” you laughed with contempt. “I am to become The Baroness Harkonnen; commanding the largest army and possessing the biggest wealth in the galaxy.”

“F-Feyd, I was like a father to you…” He searched for his nephew’s cruel eyes now, giving up on asking for your compassion and pity. “My boy…”

“Like a father, you say,” Feyd drawled. “I couldn’t wait to kill you for so many years now.”

“Please…”

“Oh, shut him up, how long will it take for him to die?” You sighed with an eye-roll as Feyd nodded his head at you and grabbed the short knife attached to his hip.

“Farewell, dear uncle,” he smiled smugly as he slit the Baron’s throat.

You watched mesmerised, without even blinking. It felt like a dream more than reality.

“The Arrakeen Palace will be considered cursed for all the Barons and Dukes from now on,” you only said.

Without a word, Feyd dropped the blade and fell on his knees in front of you, pulling you close by your hips and burying his face in the fabric of your nightgown right where your womb was. You knew what he wanted. A praise, an approval, a blessing.

“My Baroness,” he breathed out.

“Stand tall, my Baron,” you caressed his head and he looked up. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight and you cupped his chin to caress his full lips with your thumb. “You’ve made me proud and happy, my darling,” you assured him.

He nodded at you and collected the discarded blade from the floor. It was important not to leave any trace. You both went back to your chambers and laid down in bed, pretending to be asleep – too excited to actually be able to drift off. This time you didn’t feel guilty even a little bit like after the death of the harpies. This time it didn’t even feel like murder or taking another human being’s life. This time it felt like nothing but relief.

You watched the sunrise through the window with your head on your husband’s chest and his hand rubbing your back, waiting for the remaining servants’ screams to signal the beginning of the new era.

There were screams indeed. People were running, yelling, banging on your door. Both Feyd and you acted surprised and startled at the news but Astra and Cara had to be the only people in the palace who actually believed your story. The medic inspected the Baron’s body and started to wonder if it really had been Muad’Dib’s work since the cuts did not remind of the Fremen weapons. Feyd only hissed at him so the medic stopped any further insinuations.

Count Rabban’s behaviour surprised you the most as he was following his brother around and seeming to act like the most loyal and obedient subject. He had quickly realised it was the best chance of survival for him. He hadn’t questioned anything so far and simply followed every word leaving his younger brother’s mouth.

Everything was a mess and chaos on that day but it was mostly Feyd dealing with it, basking in his new title and glory, as you were sitting on your bed with terrified Astra and Cara, holding them both and assuring them of their safety.

“How can you not be worried, na-baroness? I mean, Baroness?” Astra widened her eyes. “If Muad’Dib was here last night… Oh, I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if he went inside your chambers instead…”

“My husband would defend me,” you kissed her forehead and then you kissed Cara’s.

“What if he comes back?” Cara was shaking out of fear and you felt bad for making them feel like this but you couldn’t tell them the truth. “Now, when they know that we have fewer guards around?”

“We will be prepared this time,” you squeezed their hands. “My girls, I am sorry for being insensitive but I shall get dressed in mourning attire now and finally join my husband to help him with the officialties.”

Every lady travelled with a mourning dress just in case. Yours was a combination of black silk and black armour pieces with chains, connected to the matching headpiece. It looked dignified and intimidating – exactly how you wanted it to look like. You had already dreamt of The Baron’s death while planning your trip. Therefore the mourning dress you had chosen was accurate to your new role of The Baroness.

It sounded so good. For the upcoming days you would get drunk on the way people would address you. And then, when you'd finally be back on Giedi Prime, there would be a lavish celebration and official event for you two becoming the new Baron and Baroness. You couldn't wait for that day.

You smiled to yourself in the mirror and fixed the headpiece for one last time as you adjusted the Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. On your pointing finger there was a huge ring with the Harkonnen emblem. And hidden between the folds of your dress and attached to the armour piece on your hip was the blade your husband had given you on the day of his birthday. No one could see it but you could reach for it swiftly in the case of emergency.

You joined Feyd in the conference room and everyone straightened at the sight of you. They always would but this time it felt different. You were the one holding the power – and they respected you for you, not for the fact that you were under protection of The Baron.

“Baroness,” they bowed down and went back to work, avoiding your gaze.

“How are things going?” You approached Feyd as he looked you up and down with a smirk. You put your hand on his chest.

“I sent Rabban back on Giedi Prime with our uncle’s body,” he told you and held your hand to lay a kiss upon it. “He will take care of the affairs there until we finish our business on Arrakis. I want to take care of that Muad’Dib rat before returning home and finding someone worthy to replace me as the Governor here. Rabban will also send us more Harkonnen troops since we have lost many guards last night,” he informed you in an official manner.

“We must avenge our late Lord Baron,” you clenched your jaw as you nodded. His eyes sparkled with mockery as he pretended to look worried.

You were sure that most people in that room had known the truth but they kept their poker faces on and allowed you to play out this little scene.

“My Lord,” one of the engineers raised his voice, concerned. Feyd turned around and you both stared at the hologram of the Arrakis globe. Red dots started to appear on the orbit. “We have guests,” the engineer explained. “The ships are definitely not ours.”

“Who is it?” Feyd barked at him. “Find that out, we are not expecting anyone,” he looked at you, a little concerned.

You were not pleased with the idea of guests now, out of all times, either.

“Who dares to interrupt our peace unannounced on the day after our late Lord Baron’s tragic death?” You asked out loud, playing your mourning role the best you could.

What a mockery it was that you had to be hiding all the grief after your actual family but had to display fake tears for the man you had hated with every fibre of your being.

“M-my Lord, my Lady…” the engineer turned around with his eyes widened, “it’s the Emperor himself… The whole imperial delegation.”

You and Feyd looked at each other.

“It took them days to get here. There is no way they are here because of last night’s incident,” Feyd pointed out. “Still, I do not understand. I have brought the spice production back to full efficiency. What could be the reason for his visit?”

You moved uncomfortably as your son kicked your rib. As if he too knew of the importance of this sudden imperial audience. It would be the first time you’d greet someone of such importance as The Harkonnen Baroness and it would be the first time you’d see the Emperor face to face. He had visited your father a few times on Caladan but children had not been allowed near their meetings.

“We have to greet him and find out,” you took a deep breath in, preparing yourself mentally for the first challenge in your new role.

You shot Feyd a glance and he nodded at you, reassuringly. With him by your side, it couldn’t go that bad, you tried to convince yourself. His presence was equipping you with courage and determination you had not known before.

Everything you were doing now, you were doing for the two of you and your future. Nothing else mattered.

MASTERLIST

#dune x reader #dune fanfic #dune imagine #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction #tttw

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emmyrosee · 8 months

Text

She got her quiet sneaking in from you.

Kenma’s fingers tap roughly on the controller in his hands, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in focus. He’s died four times to this monster, its shrieks of agony scaring him once embarrassingly in front of his chat, the other three deaths because, now that he’s past being scared, Kenma realizes what a damn hard boss this is.

“Chat, I’m telling you right now, if I see this dev in the streets, I’m taking a crowbar to their knee caps- this is a promise, not a warniIIIIIIING!”

He lurches from the gentle tug of his elbow, heart sinking to his chest in complete fear and acceptance that this is it for him, he’s dead. His arm is ripped away from the source, but when he hears a tiny gasp in fear, Kenma’s heart beats calmly again.

“Daddy okay?” Maesi asks, and kenma pauses the game to turn to her.

“You startled me baby,” he teases, and she blocks up at him with doe eyes to coax him to forgive her. As if she really needs to do that. “But what’s up beautiful?” He asks, putting down his controller and stretching. “How are you, angel?”

Maesi hums and passes her father the plate, her eyes peering up at him timidly- a trait he wants to blame on you, but every time, he’s met with a cocked eyebrow from you. “Want french fry?”

Kenma chuckles and nods, “I mean, you know I’m never gonna say no to fries,” he says, reaching down to grab the lukewarm fry from her tiny plastic plate. God knows how long they’ve been out, at least four hours; but that doesn’t stop kenma from letting his little girl take care of him in her own way. “You wanna be in daddy’s stream? Say hi to chat?” When she nods, Kenma lifts her up and into his lap, and once done, he reaches over to pick up another fry. In his headphones, Kenma hears that he got a donation.

Thank you kuroosassscheek for gifted 75 subs: hey Kenma there’s something behind you

“Thank you, Kuroo,” he scoffs. “Spawn, say hi to chat and uncle Tetsu.”

“Hi chat, hi uncle Tetsu,” she hums shyly, and Kenma kisses her temple around his chewing. “What playin’?”

“Daddy’s playing a scaaaary game,” he says, voice hiked slightly while he gasps. Maesi giggles before passing him another fry, which he takes quickly.

“Gonna have nightmare,” she warns.

Kenma raises his brows in agreement, “mommy’s gonna have to tuck me in.”

“Me too,” she mumbles, curling into Kenma’s hoodie, nose burrowing into his neck and tickling his skin slightly. “Play Star Valley?” She asks.

He hugs her tightly with a fake groan of effort, and she giggles happily, “you want to watch daddy play Stardew Valley?”

“Yeah..”

“Does mumma know you’re in here?”

Maesi is quiet- he chuckles and shakes his head, letting her get comfortable against him. He knows you’re not far, probably asleep on the couch, and Kenma prepares himself to potentially have to carry his two sleeping babies to bed.

“Alright- one second chat,” he says simply, grabbing his controller to change the game to the easy, calming game Maesi loves to watch him play. “We’ll pick that up tomorrow. Gotta protect myself from nightmares.”

Once again, Maesi lets out a little laugh; she tucks her face as close as she can to him, only shifting to grab another fry to munch on. He tips his head slightly again, to plant a kiss on the crown of her head, the soothing music in his headphones gets placed on her head, and before kenma can start any of his tasks, he feels Maesi’s breathing even out, her plate of fries and nuggets placed somewhere on the desk for him to take.

And that’s okay. He’ll play for a while, just in case she wakes up, and he’ll let her sleep in confidence in her fathers arms. Kenma’s pleased as the numbers in his stream doesn’t immediately drop: it stays, even now as it’s been hijacked by the one he loves most.

This 🥺🩷

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month

Text

Hurricane - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley's regretted breaking off his relationship with you for months, but when he sees you walking into the country club after his round of golf, he knows he has to fix things.

a/n: I haven't written much angst before but I'm really trying to branch out a little bit. Inspired by Hurricane by Luke Combs, and also this weird recurring dream I keep having.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: buckle up bc there's a lot? angst (happy ending), parental death, depression, hurt, cancer, goose's accident + carole's reaction, carole literally never getting over losing goose, bradley being a commitmentphobe, pregnancy (i think that's it?), also entirely unrealistic bc you know what? I can't keep roo sad for long.

word count: 3.6k

taglist: @avengersfan25, @nouis-bum, @floydsmuse, @mamachasesmayhem, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @djs8891

Then you rolled in with your hair in the wind Baby, without warning I was doin' alright but just your sight Had my heart stormin'

Bradley narrowed his eyes beneath his sunglasses, the glare of the hot mid-morning sun harsh on his chocolate brown eyes. He grabbed his nine-iron from his golf bag, taking a practice swing before teeing up for his next shot. Bob, Jake, Reuben and Javy stood to the side behind him, watching as he lined up to take his shot. He hadn’t golfed in years, in fact, he’d only ever golfed a handful of times in his life, all of them back when he lived in Virginia. His uncle had taught him when he was 15, a welcome distraction when his mom became sick, and he’d gone out a few times when he was in college after a roommate of his on the school’s golf team had invited him out. He held his breath as he heard the club make contact with the small, white orb, watching as it soared through the air, disappearing somewhere onto the course. Jake let out an impressive whistle as he looked on, placing his hands on his hips as he shook his head in disbelief.

“You’ve never golfed before, Bradshaw? You sure?” He drawled, raising one of his manicured (though he’d deny it if asked) blonde eyebrows suspiciously.

“I told you, a handful of times. Not never.”

“You did say less than five,” Bob shrugged as he cleaned his glasses before replacing them on his nose. “Less than five suggests you haven’t really hit a course.”

“Not to mention you said in years. That was the swing of a man who’s at least hit a driving range a few times,” Reuben pointed out to the course in the general direction of where Bradley’s ball had landed as Javy, Bob and Jake nodded in agreement.

“I wish Nat had tagged along, she wouldn’t ride my ass this hard,” Bradley huffed, shaking his head.

“Nat doesn’t golf. You know that. She acted disgusted that I even asked,” Jake shrugged.

“Maybe it was how you asked,” Bob suggested as he disguised his jab at Jake as a helpful criticism.

“Just take your turn, Robert,” Jake hissed, rolling his eyes dramatically as Bob smirked.

Bradley normally would have joined in with a quip of his own directed at Jake, but his heart just wasn’t in it. His heart wasn’t even in the game. The only reason why he’d agreed to go golfing with the guys for their usual monthly game was because you left him. He needed to get over you and move on - it’d been six months and with no deployments coming up, he had nothing to focus 100% of his attention onto. Reuben had noticed it first - Bradley was withdrawn on nights out, his usually chatterbox self now quiet, calm and keeping to himself, barely breaking eye contact with his beer bottle. Then came Natasha’s barrage of questions - he knew she meant well, but God, it was hard to listen to.

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew why you left. And it was entirely his fault. You’d gotten upset because he’d stopped spending as much time with you, kept getting cold feet about committing to your relationship. He’d never tell you why he couldn’t commit - it was too hard for him to explain to anyone, really. In fact, he was fairly confident that Reuben was the only other person aware of it.

Bradley wanted to be the partner you needed - he really did. He wanted to be the doting, affectionate boyfriend who’d whisk you off somewhere beautiful, propose to you, start a family with 2.2 kids and a dog, cart the kids around to sports practices on weekends - the American dream. He knew you deserved that much. And yet, no matter how badly he wanted to give that to you - he couldn’t. He’d told you he didn’t want it - he didn’t want to get married, he didn’t want to have kids, he never wanted it. He watched you fall apart the minute the words left his mouth, and it killed him inside. He wanted to hold you close and tell you he was making a mistake, tell you it wasn’t true and he didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t, because he was terrified.

Growing up without his dad was one of the hardest things he could have experienced, he was sure of it. He was too young to truly remember how his mom reacted when she learned her husband had been killed in a training exercise, but he remembered her crying a lot, feeling paralyzed by loss and guilt, angry with the world for taking the man she loved away from her. He remembered as he grew up, she never remarried, never went on a date, never even as much as looked at another man. His dad was her everything, and losing him crushed her.

When she got sick, Bradley was a teenager - old enough to understand what it meant for her, what her odds of recovery were, and old enough to be realistic about the future. When they found out she wasn’t going to get better, he’d half expected her to react the way she did when his dad died, but instead, she seemed almost at peace with the idea. She’d spent 14 years of her life missing his dad, and she knew that, even though she was horrified by the thought of leaving Bradley on his own, she wouldn’t have to spend another minute missing her husband.

Bradley decided then that he’d never want to put someone through that. He’d never be able to hurt someone he loved like this - leave them widowed before they turned 30, alone with a toddler at home to raise on the opposite side of the country from their family and friends, with nothing but a military pension and an apology over his death.

It was at 16 years old that Bradley decided, if he wanted to become a pilot, he was going to have to spend life alone, and for the most part, he was ok with that.

That was, until he met you.

He tried to deny his feelings, pretending you were just a casual fling, some fun sex here and there between deployments and missions and nothing more. That was, until three months in, he accidentally told you he loved you. It wasn’t a lie, he did love you, but it caught him off guard when he said it - he didn’t mean to blow his cover and let his guard down like that. And when you said it back? He knew it was game over.

He tried his hardest to push his fears aside, he tried SO hard. He was getting older and beginning to realize he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone, especially as he neared the mandatory 20 years of service cutoff for aviators. He’d grown almost fond of the idea of settling down with you, seeing you with a ring on your finger, picturing you with a baby in you, his baby. He wanted it. He wanted all of it. But, the fears and anxiety he had reared its ugly head, and he couldn’t bring himself to get past it.

It was on their last mission, when he had to eject and landed in the middle of a snowy mountain, unsure if he’d make it back home to you. His mind raced with thoughts of how you’d react if he didn’t make it home - how you’d crumple to the floor when you saw the two uniformed officers on your doorstep, the blood-curdling scream you’d let out in pain when you heard them say it, tears staining your pretty little face as you were handed that folded American flag - he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand the idea of putting you through everything his mom had gone through. Not when you were so young and had everything ahead of you. When you could find a man who wasn’t putting his life in danger nearly every damn day, risking himself and risking a chance he might not come home to you.

This golf trip was meant to take his mind off you. Reuben had mentioned it in passing to Jake and Bob, who exchanged worried looks with one another. Javy had overheard Nat’s line of questioning when he and Mickey returned to the table with a fresh round of beers, both of them offering Bradley silent looks of sympathy as they nodded in agreement to Nat’s advice. Bradley was struggling, in over his head with emotions and regret and sadness, but he knew he’d fucked it all up. And he knew that even if he tried, you wouldn’t want him back, and who could blame you?

Bob had suggested he reach out to you and apologize, and for a while, Bradley considered it. He strongly considered calling you, going to your house, begging for forgiveness and begging you to take him back, but after how you reacted when he broke things off with you, he wouldn’t even take him back. He’d been a dick in every sense of the word, and now, he had to try and move on, adjusting to life without you in it.

The next nine holes passed by with little conversation from Bradley and worried glances exchanged between his friends. He wasn’t in the mood for talking, he’d explain, shrugging the concern off before focusing back on the game. Bradley was thankful for his friends’ efforts, but it was beginning to feel like nothing would help him move on.

He slumped down into a chair at a table in the country club after their round of golf, sipping back the beer Jake bought him. He caught himself downing the liquid quicker than he should have, but at this point, being drunk would at least provide him with that much needed numbness he craved. He could hear Bob bickering with Jake over golf scores and who truly won, prompting an eye roll from Javy as he pulled the crumpled scoresheets from his pocket and placed them on the table. Reuben noticed the glazed over look in Bradley’s eye and clapped a sympathetic hand down on his shoulder.

Bradley was about to thank Reuben for being there for him when he saw your face. You were walking into the country club with a couple of your friends, laughing and smiling as you spoke.

God, he loved that smile.

He gulped back the rest of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table, the sound of Bradley slamming the glass down a little harder than he intended prompting Jake to spin his head around as he saw you.

“Oh..shit,” he murmured as Bob and Javy both turned to look discreetly towards you.

Bradley’s eyes widened as you walked past the bar, revealing a very unexpected new figure. He blinked his eyes a few times to ensure they weren’t playing tricks on him - positive that this had to be some kind of optical illusion or something. It was impossible. You couldn’t be.

“Pregnant.” Jake whispered as he leaned into the table, “She’s pregnant,”

“Did you know, Bradley?” Bob inquired as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“N-no.” Bradley choked out, feeling the walls closing in around him as the room started to spin.

Without hesitation, Bradley rose from his seat and made his way over to you, despite the protests from Bob and Reuben, the two voices of reason to Javy and Jake’s voices of impulse. Bradley approached you cautiously, clearing his throat for a moment to garner your attention. You spun your head around, your cheeks rosy and your skin glowing with that pregnancy glow everyone always talked about. Bradley had never really believed in that kind of stuff, but you were proving him wrong.

“Bradley?” you asked, your face paleing to a shade of ghostly white.

“Can…can we talk, please? I need to talk to you,” Bradley rambled with desperation written on his face.

You huffed a sigh, nodding your head slowly as you excused yourself from your friends, who were now whispering and exchanging uncomfortable glances with one another. Bradley followed closely behind you as you stepped out into the fresh air, finding a discreet corner of the parking lot to discuss everything from the last six months.

“I…Is it mine?” Bradley whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer as his eyes wandered to the bump that was evident under your sundress.

You sighed again, following Bradley’s gaze down to your abdomen, a protective hand resting on your bump as you nodded slowly, humming in confirmation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowned, shaking his head quickly, “I-I, I would have helped you.”

“Bradley,” you said, narrowing your eyes and shaking your head quickly, “You told me you didn’t want this. You dumped me and told me you never wanted to settle down or have a family, you didn’t want to be with me anymore, and being in a long-term relationship wasn’t what you ever wanted. You told me you didn’t love me. So please, tell me why I should have told you?”

“Because,” he said softly, his heart aching as he heard your side of things, “I didn’t mean any of that. I was wrong.”

“Oh, you were wrong? Tell me, were you always wrong, or are you only wrong now that you’ve seen me six months later, heavily pregnant?”

Bradley was speechless. He gazed down at his feet, kicking at the pavement in his golf cleats. He sighed as he thought for a moment, taking a second of quiet reflection to compose his thoughts before speaking. He wanted to get this right. He couldn’t afford to fuck it up again.

“I was always wrong. I was wrong when I said it, and I knew I was wrong,” he shook his head vigorously before looking up to meet your gaze, “Did I ever tell you about my mom?”

“You told me she died when you were a teenager, and you didn’t really mention anything else about her. Or anyone in your family, for that matter.”

“Right,” he nodded his head slowly, taking a deep breath before beginning to explain. “My dad died when I was 2. He was an RIO, a Radar Intercept Officer. You know Maverick, right?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded slowly, a look of annoyance flashing across your face as you listened to Bradley, you were used to his excuses, and you were really hoping this wasn’t another one.

“So, Maverick was my dad’s pilot. Best friends. Did everything together. He was flying when my dad died, their plane lost control, had to eject, my dad hit the canopy. Died instantly.” Bradley paused, taking another deep breath as he felt himself getting choked up, “My mom, she, uh, she was really young. My dad was 25, my mom was 23. He was her high school sweetheart. She was devastated. I was too young to remember a lot, but I remember her hurting, and being sad all the time, unable to function some days because she just missed him so much,” he explained as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“Bradley, I’m sorry,” you sighed, shaking your head as you sympathetically rubbed his bicep to comfort him.

“I just…when she died, she was…peaceful, I guess, because she knew she wouldn’t have to miss him anymore. She wouldn’t be lonely. She never remarried or dated after him, she couldn’t bring herself to. She’s buried with her wedding ring still on her finger. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off her,” he took another deep breath, exhaling sharply before looking up at you.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he finally said, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over again, “I couldn’t leave you like my mom. Heartbroken and alone your whole life. She never moved on, and I didn’t want that for you if we got married. God, I would have given anything to marry you. I would have taken you to the courthouse and married you on the spot if you would have agreed to it. But, I couldn’t risk breaking your heart. Not like that.”

“Bradley, you’ve always come home in one piece,” you said softly, fingers still stroking his upper arm soothingly.

“But I almost didn’t. I had to eject and all I could think about was you getting that knock at the door and going through what she went through, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to you, or…or to a baby.”

You shook your head, processing everything that Bradley had just said as he poured his heart out to you. He’d never opened up like this to you before, but you could tell each and every word was genuine. As much as you hated him for leaving you, you couldn’t deny that you still loved him with all of your heart.

You missed him.

You missed waking up to him after the two of you had fallen asleep watching a movie together. You missed the way he yelled at the tv when watching baseball, how passionate he got over football games, how he’d pick the olives out of his nachos like a toddler and put them on your plate. You missed how he couldn’t eat apples unless they were baked in a pie, how he’d scarf down an entire red velvet cake if you didn’t gently stop him, then regret it hours later. You missed the way his big brown eyes would stare at you, a look of pure adoration on his face like a lovesick puppy whenever you spoke to someone else, as if he was hanging on every single word that fell from your lips.

You burst into tears, throwing your arms tightly around Bradley as you shook your head. “God, you’re an idiot, you know that?” you murmured, laughing softly as you hugged him.

“I know, I’m the biggest idiot. I still would marry you if you let me. I wanted to have kids with you, I want to be around for this one,” he nodded, gesturing his hands at your bump.

“Really?”

“Cross my heart,” Bradley said with an expression of complete seriousness on his face, “I wanna know everything about them. Everything. I wanna know what you’re having, what name you’ve picked out, what your cravings are, how you’ve been feeling, when they move, what does it feel like? I want to know how far along you are, and how they’re doing, if they have my nose or your nose, or if they’re gonna be tall like I am, I want to know what helps you sleep at night when you’re pregnant, and what their favourite song is. I want all of it, honey.”

“Ok, ok, slow down, breathe, Bradley,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Take a walk with me?”

As you and Bradley walked around the pedestrian pathway on the golf course, smiling as you spoke fondly about the baby, answering all of Bradley’s questions.

“Well, baby’s a girl, I don’t have a name in mind for her yet, I’ve been craving oranges and Sprite, anything sweet and citrusy. I’ve been ok, better now the morning sickness finally dissipated. It feels like bubbles or something when she kicks, it’s like a fluttering, almost? I’m 28 weeks along, so I have about three months left. She looked like she has your nose on the ultrasound, there’s a 50/50 chance on her height, I sleep pretty much sitting upright because I get bad heartburn otherwise, and I play her music all the time. She likes Elvis and The Beach Boys, just like her dad.”

Bradley’s smile spread wide across his face, a small laugh of disbelief escaping his mouth as he nodded along with your words.

“That’s great. A girl? Really? You’re gonna have a daughter running around,” he said softly, almost as if he was daydreaming about what the little girl would look like.

“We are going to have a daughter.”

“You’re gonna let me be there? After everything?”

“Bradley, as much as I hated you for what you did and how you ended things - I never truly hated you. I loved you, more than anything. I still do.”

He held you tightly, burying his face into your hair as he kissed the top of your head, murmuring softly against your hair.

“God, I love you so much, honey. I promise, I’m never going to do something stupid like that again.”

“I know you won’t,” you laughed, shaking your head as he looked down at you, “I know you’d never leave Carly and I again.”

Bradley froze in place for a moment as he stared at you, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

“What did you call her?”

“Carly. I thought, I don’t know, after you told me about your mom just now, I thought maybe you’d like to name the baby after her? Carole’s nice too, I just figured Carly gives her a name that’s her own too, they share the same root.”

“Carly,” he nodded slowly as he repeated it, “I love it.”

Bradley took your hand in his, his large fingers enveloping your hand as he held it tightly, as if he was terrified of letting go. He made that mistake once before, he wasn’t about to do it again.

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candycandy00 · 5 months

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The Doll House - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Despite your crippling fear of men, your family sells you to the Doll House. Luckily, you end up with the handsome, gentlemanly Nanami as your trainer, and he’s about to show you how great a man can be.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Nanami’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Daddy kink. Hair pulling. Oral sex. Fingering. Divider by @benkeibear!

Ever since you can remember, you’ve had a crippling fear of men. Your father died when you were so small, you have no memories of him. You have no brothers, no uncles you’ve ever met, and you don’t even remember playing with any boy cousins as a child. Throughout your education, you only went to all girl schools. Otherwise, you’ve avoided going out in public as much as possible.

As a child, your older sister told you scary stories about men being brutish monsters who only wanted to hurt girls. Looking back, you understand now that she was only teasing you. But those stories combined with the fact that you’ve never even had a full conversation with a man before has left you with quite the phobia.

Even though you’ve watched movies and tv shows and seen men in that context, you’re still afraid of them. The fact that you find lots of fictional men attractive only confuses your emotions even more. You’ve spent years watching animated shows with men way too handsome to ever be real, developing crushes on them because they felt safe.

And your favorite, the one you’ve always been in love with despite him being made of ink and paper, is Prince Sebastian. In the cartoon, he’s a tall, muscular, blonde prince who is always a perfect gentleman to the women around him, always there to protect them from danger. Despite being an adult now, you still have a poster hanging on your bedroom wall featuring him.

Now, you find yourself standing in the welcome room of the Doll House, waiting to meet your trainer. How did it come to this? Just yesterday you were cooped up in your room, playing video games. Then this morning, your aunt who raised you and your sister stormed into your room and announced that she was selling you to the Doll House. You thought she was joking at first. What she was saying was unthinkable! She was rich! She didn’t need the money! Sure, she’s been complaining a lot lately about you staying in your room all day, but you didn’t think she was this angry!

You screamed, you cried, you made quite the scene. But then she told you that if you refused to sign the contract, she was kicking you out of her house and completely cutting you off. So you could live in a nice house with a rich man, or you could live under a bridge. To you, both options were terrifying. But one was slightly worse.

If you live under a bridge, how would you watch your favorite shows or play your games? And who knows how many unsavory men would approach you? Dealing with one man would be much better. Or so you’ve been telling yourself since you got here. But… now that you’re here, and there’s a strange man on his way to get you and do unspeakable things to you… you can’t do it!

You make a run for it, even though you’ve already signed the contract and met the owner, even though your aunt dropped you off and told you not to come back, you run out of the welcome room and into the front lobby, toward the exit. But just before you reach the door, you hear footsteps and voices behind you. One of them sounds like the owner, calling out your name. You’re so startled that you trip and crash to the floor, pulling off a perfectly humiliating face plant.

For a moment, you just lie there, feeling stunned and defeated, the adrenaline that fueled your brief escape attempt all gone. Tears sting your eyes as you begin to cry, hiccuping pathetically as your shoulders shake.

“Are you alright, miss?”

At the sound of a male voice, your body freezes up in terror. You turn your head to the side so you can look up. A man is squatting down beside you, holding out his hand.

“Let me help you up,” he says in a soft voice.

You blink away your tears as you stare at his face, and you realize something that momentarily shocks the fear right out of you. He looks exactly like Prince Sebastian! That blonde hair, those kind eyes, that muscular shape! It’s like the character just walked out of the tv! You never thought a real flesh and blood man could ever be as beautiful as Prince Sebastian, yet here he was!

Still stunned, you take his offered hand and allow him to gently pull you up. It’s the first time you remember actually touching a man.

He hands you a white handkerchief, spotlessly clean, and you use it to wipe your eyes. “Thanks,” you mumble, reaching the handkerchief back to him.

“My name is Nanami Kento. I’m your trainer,” he says, and you can’t help staring at him. He’s your trainer? Prince Sebastian? Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. But no, you can’t let your guard down! He might be ridiculously handsome, but he’s still a man!

You introduce yourself in a small, quivering voice. He nods and then calls over the lady working behind the front counter. “Can you take her to my room, please? And make sure she has whatever she needs.”

The lady smiles and nods, then heads back toward the welcome room. “Follow me. We’ll grab your suitcase on the way!”

Numbly, you follow after her.

************************

Nanami waits until his new doll has left the room, then turns to the owner. “When you said she has a fear of men, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he says, sighing. “So what’s going on? You normally don’t accept dolls who were clearly forced or coerced into signing the contract. She obviously doesn’t want to be a doll.”

The owner gives a sigh of her own. “Her aunt came and spoke to me yesterday. Apparently she threatened to throw the girl out if she didn’t sign.”

“Coercion,” Nanami says. “Despicable. So why did you accept?”

The owner looks him in the eye. “The aunt said that if I didn’t take the girl, they were going to sell her on the direct market. You know how things work there. It would be like tossing that girl into a lion’s den blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back.” The owner pauses and sighs again. “I thought that if she’s trained by someone like you, at least it would be like tossing her in there with a sword and a shield. At least she’d have a fighting chance.”

She has a point. The whole situation leavrs a bad taste in Nanami’s mouth though. “So why is she afraid of men? Any past trauma I should be aware of?”

“None,” the owner says. “She’s just never been around men in her whole life. No male relatives. Went to all girl schools.”

“Hmm.”

“And Nanami,” the owner adds, her voice dropping a bit lower, “I know you’re not going to like this, but you’ll have to deflower her. Ordinarily I’d keep her a virgin and charge a premium for her, but in this case I think sending her out so unprepared would be exceedingly cruel.”

He looks toward the door the poor doll had disappeared through. “Only if she agrees to it.”

The owner nods. “Of course. Oh, and stay sharp. There’s something off about this whole thing. Her aunt is wealthy, and she even took half what I would usually offer. She seemed really determined to have the girl trained here. There might be something else going on.”

Nanami looks at the owner. “A punishment perhaps?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. But the contract was signed so we’ll see where this goes.”

*********************

Inside your trainer’s room, you find the place impeccably neat and orderly. There’s a large bookshelf filled with difficult-looking tomes, though you do spot a few fantasy novels you’ve read yourself. The bed is so smoothly made that you wonder if he even sleeps in it. The dresser has several bottles of expensive-looking cologne, and a peek in the closet reveals a wardrobe of stylish, fancy clothes in brands even you, who grew up in a wealthy family, haven’t heard of. They’re probably brands that focus on menswear, something you would be clueless about.

The lady from the front desk sits your suitcase on the floor beside the closet and smiles at you. “You hit the jackpot, miss. Nanami is an excellent trainer.”

“He is?” you ask, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

The lady laughs. “Let’s just say that if I had to pick one of the trainers to be mine, I’d pick him in a heartbeat. He’s respectful and kind, and not to mention handsome. The dolls he trains are always sad to leave!”

That made you feel a little better, and you were grateful to her for trying to put you at ease. “Thanks for telling me,” you say. “That’s really good to know.”

She smiles and nods and leaves the room, and it only takes a few moments for your anxiety to return. Your trainer will be coming in here any minute. He’ll probably make you strip! He’ll make you touch him! He’ll touch you! Even if he’s gorgeous, you can’t handle that!

You hurry over to the lone window in his room. It overlooks the back parking lot. You push the window up, opening it, and lean out to look down. The Doll House’s structure is elevated a several feet off the ground, but it’s still only one story. The drop doesn’t look too bad. You sling one leg out over the ledge, leaving you straddling the window. Just then, the door opens, and your trainer walks in.

It only takes him a moment to assess the situation and realize what you’re doing. He rushes toward you, and in a panic you try to jump out, but your other foot catches on the window sill. You fall at a strange angle, reflexively reaching out with one hand to grab the ledge, screaming as you do. Your trainer is quick to action, lunging forward and grabbing your arm.

Nanami pulls you back in through the window, and the two of you fall to the carpeted floor, you on top of him. Did he purposely turn so that his body would shield you from the fall? His strong arms are wrapped around you, holding you firmly but gently. You look up at him, and he seems upset. You let out a squeak of terror and scurry away from him, backing into the wall, still sitting on the floor.

He stands up and dusts himself off. Oh no! Did his fancy clothes get dirty? Is he mad now? He looks at you with a strange expression. Something between exasperation and concern. “Before you hurt yourself trying to escape,” he begins, walking over to a polished shelf and pouring what looks like water into a glass, “why don’t we talk?” He steps over and hands you the glass. You take it, then sip the water.

“Okay,” you say, feeling stupid now as you tuck your knees under yourself.

“Let’s go over a few things,” he says. “First of all, I’m not going to hurt you. If there’s any pain involved in what we do, it will be thoroughly discussed and agreed upon beforehand. I’ll respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything that you don’t consent to.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. You start to relax just a little.

“That being said, the more training you receive while you’re here, the easier things will be for you when you’re purchased,” he says. “I’m not here to make you miserable. I’m here to prepare you for the next ten years. It would be to your benefit to experience as many things as possible here, with me, in an environment where your wishes are respected, before you end up with an owner who might not be so patient.”

You know what he’s saying. “You mean, I should have s-sex with you.”

He nods. “That would be my recommendation, yes. But I won’t force you to do anything. It has to be your decision, and you don’t have to decide right away. For now, why don’t we start with something simple, like letting me help you up?”

He extends his hand to you, for the second time today. Earlier, you were so stunned by his resemblance to Prince Sebastian that you took his hand easily. Now, you hesitate, staring at him for a moment before reaching up and letting his large, warm hand envelope yours. He pulls you to your feet, and you end up standing so close you can see his face more clearly than ever. Ahhh, he really is incredibly handsome!

“Now, is there anything else you’d like to try?”

You blink. “Right now?”

“If you want. Or we can wait until you’ve had more time to adjust.”

You think for a while. His muscular frame looks so inviting. You’re not sure how much you can handle, but you want to try.

“Would a hug be okay?”

He seems a little surprised, but he smiles softly at you. “Sure,” he says, before slowly putting his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. It actually feels really nice! And he smells so good! For a brief time, you almost want him to make love to you right then and there. Your brain is filled with thoughts of him picking you up and carrying you to his bed, of him taking charge, pulling off your clothes, having his way with you. The thoughts leave you blushing, and you pull away.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you tell him as he gestures for you to sit in a plush chair beside a table.

“When the training begins, there will be some rules,” he says, sitting down in a matching chair on the other side of the table. “You are to refer to me as ‘Daddy’ at all times. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. But, as I said, that’s something we can discuss and ease you into.”

You feel your heart pounding rapidly. Calling him Daddy? Punishment? It sounds terrifying, but also strangely hot. You’ve watched porn before, so you know a little about daddy kinks. You’ve always been kinda turned on when the man calls the woman “good girl”. You just never imagined, in your wildest dreams or nightmares, that you would end up in a situation like that. When you watched porn, it always felt distant, like something happening in another world. You’ve even masturbated to it, still never once imagining yourself in those positions. Men in “real life” were far too scary.

“I’m going to leave the ball in your court,” he says. “You can tell me when you’re ready to officially start the training. Until then, I’ll keep a respectable distance and let you get accustomed to being here.”

His words are very reassuring. You can feel your anxiety beginning to melt away. Maybe, just maybe, you can get over your fear with a gentleman like him.

That night, Nanami sleeps on a borrowed futon on the floor, giving you the bed. You feel terrible about that, but also relieved. While a small part of you was excited by the prospect of sharing a bed with him, a much bigger part was scared out of your mind to be in such close proximity to a man all night long.

For three days, nothing really happens between you and your trainer. You do feel slightly more comfortable with him, sharing a room and a bathroom will do that, but aside from a couple more hugs and some accidental brushing of elbows, he hasn’t touched you. Deep down, you’re a little disappointed by that.

You accompany him to the dining hall for meals, and you’ve met the other trainers. Most of them stay away from you, even as Nanami introduces them. You figure he’s informed them of your phobia. Just one of them occasionally comes a little closer than you’re comfortable with: the one named Gojo. He’s friendly and not at all threatening, but he’s still a man. So when he stops by the table you’re sitting at with Nanami, you can’t help sliding away from him a little, which results in you sliding closer to your trainer.

On your fourth day at the Doll House, you come to a decision. It’s time to face your fears and begin the training!

You wait until after dinner to tell Nanami. He’s standing at his dresser, loosening his tie in a way that makes you extremely weak. He occasionally makes polite conversation with you, but oftentimes he simply reads for a while before showering and going to sleep on the futon. Tonight, you approach him at the dresser.

“Um, I think I’m ready to start now,” you say, your voice a bit shaky despite your best efforts to stay calm.

He turns and looks at you. “Are you certain?”

You nod. “As certain as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright, then we need to discuss a few things.”

You feel yourself droop. You’ve hyped yourself up for some wild sexy times, but now you have to talk first? You really hope this conversation doesn’t get too awkward.

“First of all, you should choose a safe word. Are you familiar with that term?” he asks.

You are, or rather you’ve heard it used in porn or the smutty stories you read online, but you’re too embarrassed to admit that. “Not really,” you say.

“You choose a word or short phrase that wouldn’t normally be used in the bedroom, and whenever you say it, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing. If you’re genuinely afraid or something hurts or just makes you uncomfortable, say the safe word. We’ll stop immediately and only resume once you’re comfortable again.”

“Okay. How about… snowcone?” you ask.

“Snowcone? That’s fine. Don’t forget it,” he says.

“I won’t.”

“Now, part of my training involves light punishment for bad behavior. Mostly spankings, hair pulling, and things of that nature. Nothing that’s going to seriously hurt. Is that something you can handle?”

You suspected as much, but hearing him say it out loud, in that smooth voice of his, makes you feel dizzy. The thought of being spanked by this man as he calls you a bad girl turns you on way more than you expected. It also scares you. A man! Touching you! But you beat back down the panic that’s threatening to undermine your decision and nod. “I think so. I want to try at least.”

He walks over to his bed and sits down. His legs are spread apart as he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt and then runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, leaving it a little bit messy with a few strands hanging over one eye. He gives you a look that nearly makes you buckle, and says, “Come over here and show daddy what a good girl you can be.”

Your jaw nearly drops, your breath gets caught in your throat, and your only response is to say, “I’ll be right back!” and flee to the bathroom.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you grab a fluffy towel from a shelf and press it to your face, using it to muffle a scream. Is it a scream of terror? Of excitement? Even you don’t know. You pant for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together.

He’s hot! He’s soooo hot!

But he’s a man!

He looks just like Prince Sebastian!

But he’s a man!

After several more deep breaths, you feel the panic subsiding. You can do this! You step out of the bathroom as if you’d simply powdered your nose and walk back over to Nanami. “Sorry, I just needed a moment,” you say, hoping he didn’t hear your garbled scream.

He gives you a small, amused smile. He definitely heard it! But he only says, “That’s fine. Take your time.”

Ahhh! He’s such a gentleman! You want him to do unspeakable things to you!

“C-can we start over?”

“Of course. I believe I told you to show me what a good girl you can be,” he said.

“Okay,” you say, feeling even more awkward than usual standing there in front of him. “How should I do that?”

He gives you another one of those sultry looks. “You can start by coming closer and getting on your knees.”

Oh shit. He wants you to suck him off! Can you do it? You’ve seen it done in porn countless times. Yes, you can do it! And after you’re done, maybe he’ll pat your head and call you a good girl! Ahhh! Just imagining it has your heart pounding!

You take the few steps needed to be directly in front of him, so close he could hug you if he wanted to. Then you get on your knees, right between his thighs. You glance up at him, unsure of what you should do next. Do you open his pants? Wait for him to do it? This is a daddy kink scenario, so maybe you can just mimic what you’ve seen and read online. You look up at him with wide eyes. “What do you want me to do, Daddy?”

There’s a flicker of surprise on his face, but then he leans back slightly on his hands and says, “I’ll let you decide. What do you think would make Daddy happiest right now?”

You hesitate for just a moment more, then reach up and unbuckle his belt. Your hands are trembling as you unbutton and unzip his pants. This is it! You’re going to see and touch a real man’s cock! You see his boxers when you open his pants, black and classy. With your heart hammering wildly in your chest, you grip the waistband and pull it down, under a dick that seems way bigger than it should be. But what would you know?

With one hand, you lightly wrap your fingers around the hard, hot organ. Feeling unsure, you gently move your hand up and down the length. It’s too dry! Isn’t it supposed to be slippery? Wait… maybe that’s why women in porn often lick or drool on it. You glance up at his face, and there’s no change in his expression. Should you just spit on it? But that doesn’t seem like a very “good girl” thing to do.

“Can I lick it, Daddy?”

“If you want to,” he answers.

Slowly, you lean forward and touch your tongue to the tip. You thought it would taste bad, but really there’s no taste at all. The only thing you detect is the pleasant scent of bodywash. Of course someone like him would keep himself immaculately clean. You move your tongue all around the tip, licking it the way you would a popsicle, then you move your tongue down the shaft, toward the base, trying to get it as wet as possible. You hear him exhale a breath, and your eyes dart up to his face. He looks like he’s enjoying this!

You feel his hand in your hair, and then all at once he’s got most of it gathered in his grip, holding it firmly. It doesn’t hurt, but it does make you feel like he’s completely in control of this situation, and that in itself makes you wet.

“Take it in your mouth,” he says, his grip on your hair getting just a little tighter.

Eager to please him, you do as you’re told, letting him fill your mouth with his cock. It’s a scary feeling at first, as you adjust to breathing only through your nose and occasionally gagging around him when he slips a little too far down your throat. But somehow his hand pulling your hair is comforting. You realize you like being led.

He pushes your head up and down his length, slowly at first, gently. It’s more like he’s guiding you than forcing you. Gradually he ups the pace, going a bit deeper into your throat, which automatically constricts around him. By now your lips are covered in drool and the sticky fluid leaking from his tip, making them glide along the shaft easily.

After several minutes, you hear his voice again. “I’m going to cum,” he says, a very slight strain to his tone. “Don’t spill a drop.”

Before you can do anything to react to his words, his grip on your hair tightens as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat. You feel the warm cum shooting out, sliding directly down to your stomach. You swallowed it all without even getting the chance to taste it.

After he pulls out of your mouth, he gives you a few moments to catch your breath, then his hand releases your hair and rubs your head. “Good girl,” he says, and you think you might just faint.

The hand rubbing your head slides down your neck, your shoulder, and then grips your wrist. He pulls you to your feet, and then into his lap. You’re sitting on one of his muscular thighs as he deftly tucks his dick back into his pants with one hand. His other hand is holding you in place, the arm wrapped around you from behind.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a kind look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, surprised by how true that is.

“Then, since you’re being so good for Daddy, why don’t I reward you?” he says, his free hand slipping under your skirt, between your legs.

Your body jerks in surprise, and if he wasn’t holding you firmly in place, you probably would have tumbled out of his lap. His eyes are on your face, watching carefully, as his hand slowly slides down, inside the front of your panties. He’s taking his time, giving you ample opportunity to use the safe word. But you don’t, because despite the fear you’re currently feeling, you don’t want him to stop.

His fingers softly rub your most private place, gently parting the slick flesh, one finger quickly finding your clit. You gasp and clutch his arm, the sensations nearly overwhelming you.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, his voice close to your ear.

You nod your head, murmuring, “Mmhm.”

His fingers traces circles around your sensitive nub, then strokes it, making you release little mewling cries.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says, almost in a whisper. “Use your words.”

“It feels… so good, Daddy! S-so so good! Nothing has ever felt so good!”

You suddenly wrap both arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. The pleasure is too intense! He’s way too good at this! His fingers never stop, even as you quiver in his grip, even when you cry out “Daddy!” as you cum, your whole body shaking.

While you’re still trembling through your orgasm, with his hand still in your panties, he says, “There’s another rule you need to be aware of. In my training, you have to earn pleasure by being a good girl. You’re not allowed to pleasure yourself. Do you understand?”

You nod against his shoulder, feeling too dazed to speak.

The hand that was holding you in place moves up to grip your hair and pull your head back so he can see your face. It’s not a harsh action, but a firm one. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” you say, and he releases your hair, then smoothes it down gently.

“That’s my good girl.”

**********************

Nanami sits in a chair in his room, thumbing through a book he bought recently and sipping wine. His doll is fast asleep in his bed, exhausted from the intense training session.

He had made sure she was okay, physically and emotionally, before drawing a hot bath for her in his private bathroom and then later helping her into bed. They will be sharing the bed now that the training has begun, and she seemed okay with that before she fell asleep.

Nanami is actually quite surprised by her. He had guessed it would be at least a week before she would be willing to try any sort of training, but here she is on the fourth day, practically swallowing his cock. She’s facing her fears, and that’s admirable.

Though her escape attempts and nervous, terrified energy are exasperating, he also has to admit that he finds her amusing. Earlier, when she ran to the bathroom to scream, it was all he could do to hold back his laughter when she returned and acted as if nothing happened. She was definitely a strange one.

He closes the book and stands up to stretch. His mind is already full of plans for tomorrow, for the various training exercises he can try with her. He doesn’t want to push her too far and make her fear of men worse, but he also wants to make sure she’s fully prepared for her life as a doll. He’ll do all he can to help her, that much is certain.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #kento Nanami #Jjk x reader #x reader #jjk smut

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lady-ashfade · 5 months

Text

Fighting The Storm

—£ Twin!Lucerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader.

—£ Ask“Lucerys twin sister who went with him to storm end and you can decide what happened next.”

—£ Warning: Dragon fighting, Your dragon is called Nightshade, Short story, this is mostly seen as platonic but idk! You choose!

Luke was anxious about leaving. He had many fears of something happening along the way or from storms ends. His only since of relief was to find his way to you and share his feelings and doubts.

As always you brushed your hands into his hair and gave him a pat on the shoulder, “It is our duty.” You pulled him closer and kisses his forehead.

“But if anything happens don’t wait for me, me and nightshade will handle everything. You and arrex can not handle much, promise me this.” You grabbed his hands and made him swear on your mother.

Your whole life you had done what your mother wished for herself and trained to be a knight. You could handle yourself well and it helps that your dragon was a adult, having to claim one as your own.

The way to storms ends put a distasteful taste in your mouth and made your stomach sink but you put on a brave face for him. All your life you had been doing so, keeping him safe and calm.

When the two of your saw Vhagar you grabbed onto him and ask him if he remembers his problem. Making him swear again to keep it.

When you both arrived in the castle you both saw your uncle who sent a shiver down your spine. He looks evil and sadistic when he looked at you, a cocky grin at his lips. You hated him for years but this wasn’t the time to get into family hatred.

Of course this was never going to be a civil night with him here so one thing lead to another and you took Luke’s hand and ran out. He was to be protected at all cost.

You both sattled your dragons and took off into the storm that now whistles and cries over the sea.

You kept yourself close to your brother and since your dragon was bigger then his, making sure to keep a eye out for aemond.

When vhagar started to appear you hopped in front of your brother and tried to keep the focus on yourself. The whole situation you were protecting your brother, yelling at aemond to stop and let you both go. War had no beginning yet. He only laughed and continued to scare Luke.

You got separated from your brother and you called out for him and listen for any sign. The rain and clouds covered most of your view that you began to panic. “Brother!” You called out for him.

You couldn’t lose him. From the moment you came into the world he was there, your twin. And best friend.

The larger dragon came into view and you couldn’t take it anymore of the torturing and games. “Dracarys.” You screamed and flew closer. Fire was blown onto the dragon as you quickly turned away to kept yourself from harm.

You hoped that Luke had gotten away and that you could buy him time to rush back home.

Seeing aemond tug his ropes back and screaming at vhagar you knew it was a mistake but one you had to own. It would have ending up badly anyway so as long as you saved Luke. That was all that matters.

Luke rushed into castle and searched for his mother while soaked in water but he didn’t feel on his skin. He was on fire, his blood pumping and heart racing. ‘I left her there, my own sister. I left her there to die.’ Those words repeated in his head since he left the storm. At this moment while he breathed in the air you could be drawings your last breath or already be died.

All he sees is your braided hair laying on his shoulder as the sun beamed down on you in kingsland. The both of you sitting by your mother as her bell swelled with a new babe on the way. He sees your smile when you kiss him goodnight on the forehead each night as you jokingly check under his bed for monsters. And, his body wants nothing more then to feel your arms wrapped around him.

“Lucerys.” His mothers voice was finally heard and his head snapped towards her. She clinched her dress and rushed over to her son and checked his body for injuries. He looked more pale then should be possible, and his lips were blue and floor trailed with rain water. “Where is your sister?” She glanced behind him for you since you were never far away from your twin but she saw nothing.

Whimpering, his eyes filled with tears. “I lost her.” His breaths started to pick up and he was losing his breath. “Aemond separated us. They both were no were insight. She made me promise to leave, and I shouldn’t have- I-” he broke down as his mother pulled his head into her shoulder and shh’d him while her own mind raced. Her brother was there, and chasing them no doubt.

“I will ride at once.” Daemon spoke from behind as he grabbed his helmet and sword. Rhaenrya watched him get up, “It is a storm- Daemon.” Rhaenrya did not know what to do at the point. Vhagar was out there and in a storm it would be hard to fight but her little girl was out there somewhere. In the cold, in the rain and probably fighting for her life while praying to get away.

Daemon went to say something but a large dragon call was heard from outside and it was a familiar call. Nightshade. They rushed through the halls to make it outside to see you return, they were anxious.

There stood the tall black scaled dragon with a few cuts on its skin with blood dripping down but it seemed to pay it no mind. The dragon watched a few guards heavily while they focused on something on the ground away from their view. “Y/n!” Rhaenrya knew what it had to be with the dragons intense gaze. She ran across the ground and over to where the scene had taken place and she saw you.

Her little girl laying there with eyes shut and blood staining your clothes. Your mouth stained the same tint as your brothers and skin almost un life like, you looked…Dead. She dropped to her knees and placed up your head into her lap and the men works on the wounds on your body and checked to see if you were still alive. You still had a faint pulse and breath but you could lose that at any moment.

The night was long as the maester did their best to keep you alive. Your mother pacing outside the door wondering if she was to lose another daughter. Daemon sharping his sword and planning a way to make aemond pay. And lucerys, who sat with tear stain cheeks knowing that if you died tonight it would be his fault. It was him who left, it was him who took aemonds eye many years ago to make him do this, it was him he was after. And all you wanted to do was keep him safe.

#lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #lucerys velaryon x twin!reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader

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wolfjackle-creates · 3 months

Note

Oooooh, I love the wip ask game!! You know I'm a fiend for your Answer My Call fic, but... Danny is Vlark's Nephew is calling to me, that sounds like so much fun!

Look out tomorrow night (after 9 pm EST) for Answer My Call! Can you tell how much fun I'm having since this chapter takes place in Boston?

As for Danny is Clark's Nephew. I actually kinda forgot all about this one until I was looking through my "Prompt fills" document. And I followed the link I saved and what I wrote doesn't match it at all? So idk if I saved the wrong link or if I just took the barest bones and went in a totally new direction.

Here's the first 350ish words.

-----

Danny was practically vibrating as he followed Constantine through a random junk yard in Chicago and into a shed. He was going to meet the Justice League! And possibly join them! Totally worth the months he’d spent gathering every piece of John Constantine’s soul.

“All right, your highness. This is the Zeta Tube. They’re expectin’ us. After I make this introduction, we’re even, right? You’re not gonna demand anything else from me?”

“Nope! Your soul back for the chance to meet the Justice League with the potential of joining them. You’ve given them the files I sent you, right?”

“Course. Wouldn’t dream of reneging on a deal with the Ghost Prince.”

Danny laughed. “Sure you would.” Before Constantine could protest, Danny continued, “Now, how does this thing work?”

“You just stand right there. I’ll take care of it.”

Unfortunately, Constantine stood in a way that prevented him from seeing what he did. But then it didn’t matter because the room was filled with a strange energy that bombarded him. It tickled. Danny laughed even as the world spun away from him and reality shifted.

When everything came into focus around him again, he was facing a group of people. But his eyes focused on just one. Someone was talking, but Danny could only stare into equally shocked blue eyes.

“—om. Prince Phantom!” Constantine’s hiss finally got through the ringing in his ears.

Danny looked over at the wizard, but then he heard that clearing of the throat. He looked back at the group that had come to greet him. And there was Uncle Clark, dressed as Superman, standing with his arms crossed, foot tapping, and one eyebrow raised.

“I’m waiting for an explanation,” he said as soon as Danny met his eyes.

Danny opened his mouth. Closed it again. Swallowed. “Um…”

And then Constantine was talking again, thank the Ancients. “Superman, this is Prince Phantom, Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, defeater of Pariah Dark, defender of—”

“Not you, Constantine.” Uncle Clark continued to stare straight at Danny. “I got a Christmas card from your parents just three months ago. I spoke to you on the phone last month on your sister’s birthday. You were alive then. Why do you suddenly not have a heartbeat.”

#dpxdc #clark kent #danny fenton #john constantine #ask game #danny is clark's nephew #and he's not impressed to see his supposed-to-be-alive nephew #at constantine's side #introduced as the *ghost* prince

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arcielee · 9 months

Text

dōna mandia

Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game of hide-and-seek. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader Word Count: 4085 WARNINGS/THIS IS A DARK FIC: Targcest, with she/her pronouns, MDNI, 18+ Dubcon, inexperience, fingering, implied sexual themes, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, anal, double penetration, rough sex. Author's Note: Thank you @hamatoanne for being my muse and inspiring this depravity. Thank you to @sylas-the-grim for beta reading and perfecting. And a huge thank you to @aemonds-fire for helping me with my Tumblr settings that had me ripping my hair out. 💜 Anyway, this is what you wanted from this poll. I hope you are all happy with yourselves. 😂

Valyrian translations: mēre, lanta, hāre is one, two, three dōna mandia is sweet sister

Tumblr kindred spirits: @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii

“Come, sweet sister,” Aegon whispered into the shell of her ear. She felt the warmth of his palms through the layers of silk worn, her robe and her nightgown, with his intimate touch to her lower back to guide her.

She paused for a moment and peered back at her twin. Aemond had covered his one eye, his sapphire glinting from the lighting of the room as his timbre rumbled the numbers off in Old Valyria. “Mēre,” he began, with a slight curl to his lips.

“With me,” Aegon urged, his other hand interlacing with her own to pull, and she could not help the giggle that slipped from her lips as she followed him.

Aemond continued behind them, a low echo against the cobblestone. “...lanta…hāre…”

It was childish, she supposed, but welcomed after the somber family meal earlier this evening. Her brothers then stole away to her chambers, the mischievous grin paired with the suggestion from Aegon that they play hide-and-seek, as they had as children.

But that had been a lifetime ago, long before the internal warfare of the House of the Dragon inevitably spilled its destruction across Westeros.

Her brothers, Daeron as well, had all fought valiantly and victory was had–but at what cost, she often wondered. Rhaenyra was dead, along with their uncle and nephews, and their dragons as well. The smaller children, the ones with the blood of Old Valyria apparent in their veins, had been sent to Old Town with the assurance to raise them with the absolute truth of what happened.

But she knew that the truth would be written by the victors.

Their grandsire served as Lord Hand still, an advocate to reinstate the peace disrupted. This burden shifted on her and her siblings, as Aegon was now king without question, and now the sole focus was to mend the rift between realms, a new age of serenity with his reign. As part of this, their grandsire announced her betrothal to a Northern house, as if she were an olive branch to be extended to the perpetual snow to never be retrieved.

Her pain was written plainly on her lovely features, but their grandsire spoke his words with a sense of finality; it seemed to be no hope to dissuade his mind.

This was how her brothers found her–“Sulking prettily,” Aegon cooed as her handmaiden finished braiding her silver tresses back, dressed already in a pale silk and ready for bed.

Once they were alone, Aegon had brought up this childhood game. What had convinced her, though, was when her twin, Aemond, who was the personified reason knitted amongst them all, seemed almost akin to the idea. His perpetual smirk played at his lips when he offered to be the seeker first.

And now she padded softly along to keep pace with Aegon, breathless, almost gleeful, as they tore through the empty corridors, hands held as they weaved through the silent castle before coming to a door she recognized all too well.

“This is Aemond’s room,” and her voice trailed off with its uncertainty.

Aegon returned his hand to her lower back, his other now grasping onto her forearm. There was a darkness that flickered over his features, but his smirk was quick to brighten, an emotion gone with a heartbeat before she could even register. A coaxing whisper to guide her across the threshold: “This is the one place he would not think us to go.”

It was a room she knew with an intimate familiarity, with an ingress that connected and weaved through the walls, leading back to her own. When they were children, Aemond often would slip into her bed at night, her honeyed tones to soothe him to sleep, and when he had lost his eye, she would go visit with him and listen while Vhagar’s roars reverberated throughout the Keep.

It was tidy, as always, maintained and meticulous, which suited her twin. His musk lingered over, something that was so uniquely his own: the hint of smoke with leather, his skin scrubbed clean with the bath oils gifted from Dorne, the amber and the ash.

It was something that held onto her clothes whenever she would return to her room in the early mornings.

Now, she followed Aegon with timid steps as he moved towards the wardrobe further back, standing tall and solid. He opened to be greeted with the smell of Aemond, mixed with the cedar chips placed to keep the moths away. He then stepped in first, turning to reach for her once he realized her hesitation rooted her to the cobblestone; his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her in, closing the door behind.

It was dark, save the crack between the paneled doors that allowed the bit of golden light from the hearth and the tapers still lit to spill in. Aegon nestled against her, a warmth emitting from him, and her backside flushed against his chest. His one hand moved to her hip while the other began to draw soothing circles against her stomach, an almost tingling sensation through her silk.

She squirmed slightly, an inadvertent hum from his touch; the close proximity and his clashing scent–a soothing mixture of lavender and tea tree oil–caught her breath in her throat. She blushed, her hand fumbling on top of his own, so small in comparison, and he pressed the imprint of his palm to her stomach, the other gripping into her hip bone.

She shivered from his hold, from the warmth that began to pool between her thighs. “Aegon,” she breathed.

He moved to place his hand over her mouth. “Quiet, sister,” and his chin pressed onto her shoulder, his hot whisper tickled with his low baritone and his hold tightened around her waist.

She paused, alert for an indication that Aemond had finally come to the room to find them, but there was only a heavy silence punctuated by the crackle from the fireplace. Aegon burned against her, a pillar of warmth that settled over like a fog, thick with the quiet, almost suffocating in the enclosed space. His hold on her hip loosened and his hand began to trail the flow of silk to the soft divot between her thighs, his fingers moving to trace the outline of her cunt against the thin material.

“Sister,” his tone was dark, but she felt the curl of his lips against her ear. “You are bare beneath this.”

Only his hold on her mouth kept her from reminding him that she had meant to go to bed, but instead she had been caught up in this insipid game–but the thought choked on the fog from his continued motion. His fingers deftly found her slit and he dragged his center digit upwards between, a featherlight touch that seemed to scorch through the length of her spine. She moaned, soft and muted, against his palm.

“Pull up your skirt,” he hissed, moving to cup her cunt fully.

She jolted from his touch, scrambling to bunch the fabric around her hips; the air was cool against her thighs and the wetness between.

Aegon groaned against her skin. “So wet for me, sweet sister,” and he pulled her closer, grinding against her backside, his defined hardness pressing into the softness of her arse.

She mewled and it was muffled still, drawing a dark chuckle of satisfaction from Aegon. “You like that?” and he repeated the movement, his fingers now spreading her silken folds and the silver hair that lined them. “If I remove my hand, will you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?”

His hold only relaxed with the frantic bob of her head and his hand moved to push aside her braid to allow his tongue to run the column of her neck to behind her ear, almost panting against her skin. She shuddered against him. “So soft,” and her skin prickled with the low rumble of his praise, “so wet,” and his one finger curled within, searching until she began to melt, arching against him with a desperation to feel the friction again, his length hard and heavy against.

She pressed backwards and Aegon drew a sharp intake of air before he tilted his chin, his teeth sinking into the junction of her neck, suckling until she left out a small whine, “–Aegon.”

“Quiet,” he hissed again before returning his focus to the curl of his fingers within her velvet walls, to the movement of his hips grinding against. His touch was practiced, precise, and he was now knuckle deep, which allowed the ridge of his palm enough pressure that further ignited the coiled passion building in her lower abdomen.

She gasped with each stroke as he continued his simultaneous ministrations, the mixture of his kisses and nibbles on the curve of her neck, the love bites that would linger but right now brought her to the precipice of something she had never felt before–

–and the doors swung open, where Aemond stood, arms wide, his hair disheveled and his expression unreadable.

Her eyes widened, burning from her embarrassment, burning from her release; she tried to close her thighs, but Aegon pulled it from her, against her own volition and with a startled cry. She trembled from her peak, the flush of color that spilled from her cheeks, to her neck and to her chest, her nipples pressing against the silk and her chest heaving with her labored breath.

Aegon wore his smug satisfaction, pressing a soft kiss to her neck and his eyes never leaving Aemond.

But his sharp features seemed unsurprised by the spectacle. “You are insatiable, brother,” and he grabbed her, pulling her from the confines of the wardrobe. “Your impatience knows no end.”

The silk spilled to cover her leaden legs, her steps staggered but he was quick to catch her. His large palms held her steady, to meet with his bicolor gaze; his sapphire gleamed and his lavender eye trailed her curves, almost admiring. He then dragged her towards the bed, pushing her backwards against it.

“Oh, but I have only prepared her for you,” Aegon continued as he stepped out, his silver hair mussed and his satisfaction bold on his features as he licked his fingers clean.

She wished her voice to not sound so childish with her question. “P-prepare me?”

Aegon tutted condescendingly. “Just as we did with Helaena, and she took us both so well,” he grinned, relishing in the new flush of color that stained her cheeks with the implication of his tone. “You cannot truly believe we would ever allow you to be off to some Northern house as a prize?”

Her heart fluttered with hope, like a captured bird against its cage, and her fingers pressing into the mattress to hold herself upright to look back at Aemond. He stepped closer to touch her, his hand large and warm, his slender fingers sliding to hold the back of her neck, to hold her attention. “I would never allow that,” he vowed, and then he pulled her to stand again.

She had always considered her twin to be handsome, as breathtaking as the sapphire stone he had placed in his scarred socket. It was his melancholy mien that called to her heart; there was a severity that lined his features, that sharpened as the years passed and chiseled away at the remains of his boyhood. After the war was won, she often wondered, she hoped, that she would be given to him, as Helaena had been given to Aegon…

Her eyelashes fluttered when she looked up at him, warming from the close proximity. “Aemond…”

“Trust me,” and Aemond pressed closer.

It was her first kiss and it swept the air from her lungs, his mouth soft and warm and wanting against her own. A soft moan spilled from her and his tongue curled against her own, his gradual pace to allow her time to taste, to allow her own want to begin rekindling within.

Her hands trembled when they reached for his collar, pulling him closer, and he hummed his satisfaction, a vibration throughout; his arm wrapped around the small of her waist, a guiding press back against the bed edge. Her layers of silk were disrobed and puddled on the cobblestone, a heat radiating from her bareness now shown to Aemond and she saw how his pupil swallowed the color of his eye.

Aemond discarded his tunic, his long and lithe form decorated with scars from the Dance of the Dragons, bold colors with some fading to silver. He pressed between her plush thighs, his slender fingers now digging into their softness for hold, pulling her towards the edge until her cunt pressed against the bulge of his trousers.

Another moan spilled from her kiss-swollen lips from the clothed pressure, and Aemond dipped forward, the soft tickle of his silver hair against her skin and his lips trailing the curve of her jaw with an open mouth kiss to the soft divot beneath her ear.

“Lay back on the bed,” was his breathless command.

She trembled to move herself but paused when her eyes darted back to see Aegon in the shadows, still standing, still watching rapt. His tunic was now untucked and showed off the hard peaks of his chest beneath, his hand dipping past his waistline with a slow palming of the length of his shaft, with wine stained blotches on his cheeks.

Aemond captured her mouth, pushing her back onto the bed, his kiss searing with his desperation, his hunger, with the clash of teeth and his tongue curling against the roof of her mouth. She panted, flustered from the attention, flustered with the echo of Aegon’s words–she took us both so well. Even then, plumes of pink bloomed on her pale skin as his kiss stoke the embers of her passion. “Aemond,” she breathed him in, her head light.

He hummed against her neck, moving lower so his mouth could appreciate her curves. He paused at her chest, his tongue flickering over the peaks of her nipples before trailing lower to the soft of her stomach with hot, wet kisses moving towards her core.

She sighed, she squirmed with each placed kiss and as he nestled between, his breath warm against the glisten from her first climax, and her arousal from his touches.

“She tastes so sweet, brother,” Aegon rasped.

Aemond hummed against her cunt, his fingers soft to touch, his lips pressing an intimate kiss to the bloom above her entrance. She arched her back with a sharp cry, sensitive still, and he pinched her thigh.

“Dōna mandia,” his husky tone sent bolts up her spine. “Be quiet.”

Her hands clamped over her mouth as he began to lap the bundle of nerves discovered this night, and he drank her essence unabashedly. His fingers curled within, his touch somewhat similar to Aegon’s but thoughtful, searching until he felt the beginning flutter of her walls. There was the sinful squelch of her wet cunt and she let out a choked sound against her palm, the threat of tears pearling in her eyes–

Then he stopped.

She let out a whine and pushed to her elbows, the flush of rose that tinged her intimately in all the right places, the rise and fall of her chest and her nipples still peaked with her denied pleasure. Aemond watched her, removing his trousers, the hint of satisfaction fleeting with how her eyes widened at the sight of him bare; he then moved to the cradle of her hips, his head dipping with the glisten on his lips and chin, an unfamiliar taste with his sweet kiss.

Aemond pressed against her, hot and heavy. “Sweet sister,” and he sounded apologetic. “This will hurt.”

Once again a hand clamped over her mouth, halting her gasp as he lined to press against her entrance. Aemond groaned into her neck with his gentle thrusts that burned, that stretched as he pushed into her and she writhed pitifully beneath him, the tears now spilling with her muffled sob.

“I know, I know,” his low tone was soothing, his breath tickling the curve of her neck as he continued the slow rut of his hips against her, his hold relaxing for a chaste kiss.

She gasped against his mouth. The burn, the ache dimming with his each thrust and she felt the blossom of a newer sensation that began to trickle through her veins, a coiling passion as he filled her; It was something deeper than neither his hands of Aegon’s reached before. She shuddered against him, her cheeks wet and her fingers curling into his slim hips, his pace rhythmic to her internal flutter pulling her towards an edge.

She let out a soft cry: “Aemond.”

His lips curled and he praised her. “Yes, just like that,” his pace continued, unrelenting. She felt her muscles clenching, spasming with the bloom of her climax spilling through, her sweet moans mixing with his sharp intake of air through his clenched teeth. Aemond stilled his hips, savoring how she shuddered beneath him, her rapid heartbeat and wet eyes that watched him intently.

A whine cut through them both. “Aemond,” and only then did they remember Aegon.

She felt empty when Aemond pulled away, her cresting pleasure fading. The bed dipped as he shifted, his large hands now moving her, coaxing her onto her hands and knees so she now faced the edge of the bed to watch as Aegon moved closer.

He had shed the last of his clothes, his swaggered step that showed his length, his girth, that hung heavy between his thighs. His touch felt clammy against her skin, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back to meet with the glitter of his lilac eyes. “Will you return me the favor?” he mused, his thumb pressing to her lower lip.

Her older brother always held a haunted beauty about him. There were splotches of wine stains, bold on his porcelain skin, and something almost sinister that brimmed beneath the dark shadows that framed his lovely eyes. Aegon watched her, his digit stroking underneath her chin as he watched for her to acknowledge his words.

Behind her, the bed dipped again as her twin moved to place his hands on her hips. Her grip balled into the linen, to try and hold her trembling still; he dragged the tip of his cock through her folds to coat himself in her release, allowing an easier glide as he sheathed back into her cunt; his groan reverberated throughout them both.

She shuddered and felt Aegon squeeze her jaw, looking up at him through the new tears that clung to her eyelashes. “Open your mouth,” was his low command, his hand wrapping around his base and pressing his swollen cockhead to her lips.

It was a tentative taste before she opened to take him bit by bit. “Watch your teeth,” and she widened her jaw, her tongue flattening against the underside of him. “Yes, good girl,” Aegon hissed, his head tilting back.

She gagged when Aemond slammed into her, his hip bones digging into the softness of her arse–this new angle choked a moan from her, and its vibration had Aegon almost giggling. His fingers combed through her silver hair that spilled from the braid, holding her head as he now bucked his hips into her mouth. She gagged again, hollowing her cheeks, saliva spilling from the corners of her mouth and dripping down the sides.

The brothers were in tandem, the brutal pace of her twin and the sensual pull of her hair by Aegon and his large hands. She trembled as she tried her best to balance on one hand, her other trying to wrap around the last bit of Aegon she could not swallow, flushed from the lack of oxygen and her muscles tensing again.

Then it stopped, the satisfying pop as Aegon removed himself from her mouth, an emptiness as Aemond pulled away. She wished to melt into the sheets, but felt hands pulled to straddle the slender waist of Aemond, who was now splayed against the pillows, the flush of color bright on his sharp features. She saw his erection pressed up against his stomach, a glossy sheen of her arousal coating him.

She sighed from his touch, lifting her hips with a soft mewl as he dragged his tip through her silken folds again, allowing her to slowly sink on top with her soft cries. He bucked beneath her, a slow pace to fill and it plumed new pleasure that sparked at her spine, fluttering throughout. Her nipples were rosy and pebbled, her small hands bracing against his chest with the imprint of of red, half-crescent moons littering on his skin.

Aemond moved his hands to cradle her lower back and pulled her forward until she was flushed against his chest. He captured her lips with a renewed fervor, biting her bottom lip, and she whimpered mercifully against his mouth. He broke away and she buried into his neck with a soft kiss, while Aemond gave a silent gesture to Aegon, who retrieved a small vial and palmed himself as he continued watching them.

“You wish to make me feel as good as I made you,” Aegon asked and the bed sank as he climbed onto it, “isn’t that right, sweet sister?”

She twisted to face him, an unintelligible moan to reply as Aemond continued his languid pace beneath her. Her eyes were glassy, soft noises spilling, and there was a movement of silver when she nodded her head.

Aegon hummed with a curl of his lips, moving behind her, pouring more from the vial into his palm. Aemond reached to find her lips again, tightening his hold as she jerked from Aegon’s touch. He made a soothing sound and she relaxed as he slowly circled her rim, a genial coat of oil, so tender it almost tickled.

It stopped and her trepidation fluttered her spine as his thick head pressed against her hole, a searing burn that speared the base as he began to push until he was fully sheathed and flushed against her ass. She trembled and Aegon let out a low groan as he leaned over her, a soft bite and kiss to her shoulder blade. “So tight,” he gasped.

Aemond had stilled his hips, swallowing her cries with his kiss, and only pulling back to lick her tears, his soothing words muted from the roar of blood that was rushing to her ears. He continued to sing small praises while Aegon moved agonizingly slow, his thrusts eventually coaxing a heat in her lower back that began to spread and press to her seams.

Aemond cupped her face to reclaim her attention, her breathy moans fanning his cheeks and her fist knotting into the linen as she shuddered against his chest. He moved his warm palms to her sides, slowly rolling his hips at an alternating pace with Aegon.

The fullness from their hungry, cyclical pace continued the crescendo building in her lower abdomen. It came with sparks of white that flashed before her eyes, the release of that coiled passion flushing her skin with their rhythm. Her tension snapped, painfully, pleasurable, sharing her bones beneath and leaving her weightless with a sobbed release.

She shuddered from the crests of pleasure that continued to crash against her, feeling Aegon’s hips stuttering with his own peak before pulling out his softening cock. And then Aemond gripped into her hips, a biting hold as he rutted upwards to chase after the high, his cock pulsing inside her velvet walls and her lips parting with a wordless cry.

She then crumpled against her twin and he moved her carefully to the side. She was breathless and could feel their pearly seed spilling from her holes and seeping into the linen. Aegon was first to move, to dress and leave the room, but Aemond took a moment, washcloths rung to wipe her clean, taking the time to blow softly on her skin and watch it ripple with gooseflesh.

When he finally finished, he crawled beneath the covers and pulled her against his chest; she sighed as she melted against him, her fingers moving to play with the silver strands of his hair. Her lips pursed a moment. “What do we do now, brother?”

His fingertips stemmed pleasantly against her ribs and she flushed from the vibration of his low hum. “I intend to speak to the Lord Hand tomorrow about making you my wife,” he said as if it was already decided.

Her tongue wet her lips. “What if he is adamant to send me to the North?”

His grin was almost wicked. “Then I will parade these corridors with these very sheets to show you are no longer a maiden,” and he pushed her as she giggled, rolling her onto her back and enjoying the natural spill of her breasts; his narrow waist knitted between her thighs and she sighed, feeling him pressed against the inside of her thigh, heavy and ready once again.

Aemond captured her mouth and his kiss heated her cheeks. He stopped a moment, his tone dark and heady, “I will not be denied. Iksā ñuhon, dōna mandia.”

You are mine, sweet sister.

#hotd au fanfic #dark!aegon targaryen #dark!aemond targaryen #aegon x ofc #aemond x ofc #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #updated

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florestmoon · 2 years

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Just His Luck. (Eddie Munson x Reader)

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Summary: Eddie comes to a realization after a drug deal with Chrissy. As he struggles with this, he wasn’t sure why you began to pull away from him, afraid that you can tell exactly how he feels.

Warnings: Eddie’s POV. Slowww burn friends to lovers. Yeah still lots of angst because I love making y’all suffer these two idiots.

Word count: 7.5k?

A/N: my biggest writing flaw is that I hate writing fast pace. When I have an idea, I make sure to focus on small details and I will drag it the fuck out because I read slow burn fanfics and books the size of my head since the age 12 . That being said, I didn’t end this the way i originally thought. So maybe, MAYBE, it’ll be 4 parts. I’m sorry to those who hate that haha. Forgive me <3 THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT LETS GO.

Eddie use to never consider himself a lucky person.

He didn’t think he could be considered a lucky person when his father had made it clear how much he couldn’t care less about his own son. His drunken rants still a vivid memory.

Someone who’s lucky didn’t have to be forced out his childhood home and hike all the way to another town to find an uncle he wasn’t even sure would take him in.

A lucky person didn’t grow up being branded a freak and tormented by most of his classmates for something as simple as playing a fantasy game and listening to heavier music. A lucky person didn’t rely on selling drugs in order to support his uncle, and that said side hustle only adding a bigger target on his back in the small town.

That and many more shitty experiences that made up his life should be enough proof that he, Eddie Munson, was not lucky.

But then there’s you.

You being a part of his life overshadows all the bad luck that followed him. Eddie would go through it all again, his shitty childhood and the very hot and long walk from his own hometown to Hawkins, now that he knows you were waiting to enter his life the moment he stepped foot into that trailer park.

He remembers clearly the overalls you wore when you jumped up from the bike you were sitting on, when Uncle Wayne encouraged him to go outside after a day settling in his new home. You ran to him and introduced yourself with a smile that showed a missing tooth.

That was the moment he knew he experienced his first true luck.

Since then, Eddie could safely say he was a lucky person with the way you stuck by his side. It didn’t matter if his days contained the looks of disgust that were thrown his way, when he knew he would see you at the end of it.

Kind eyes, rid of any judgement, waiting for him.

He really is a lucky person, even if your stressed voice was pushing for a headache that morning.

“Eddie, can you please turn that music down. It’s not letting me see clearly!”You ask desperately from the passenger seat, before twisting your body to look at the back of his van to return looking through the piles of cassettes he had saved.

He laughs but continues to slam his palm on the steering wheel to the music. “I need you to rethink that sentence.”

“Eddie.” You warn and from the tone of your voice, Eddie quickly shuts off the music. You hum happily and return to your search in the mess of his van. After a few moments of you cussing under your breath, Eddie’s name being thrown there a few times and he has to refrain from slamming the breaks, before you pull yourself back into your seat.

“I shouldn’t even be letting you ruin that poor kids ears.” He states once he sees a cassette being shoved into your bag. “Lucas deserves one from my own personal collection.”

“Ha. Ha.” You roll your eyes and he watches you from the corner of his eye, seeing you place your feet up on his dashboard. “I know Lucas will like it. It’ll cheer him up and encourage him before the big game tonight.“

“Right, the game.” Eddie recalls, focusing back on the road. “I wonder what those idiots will tell me today at lunch.”

You hold in a laugh as he continues, “I know they’ll be scared to tell me. I can see their faces already,”

“Aw don’t be mean.” You pout cutely, placing your elbow on the passenger door and looking towards him. “They look up to you, and hate disappointing you. That’s why it’s taken so long to come clean.”

“It’s not being mean” Eddie shakes his head, “I’m not going to be the one to look for a replacement. And I’m not going to reschedule the campaign.” He adds quickly with a pointed look at you that is returned by you sticking your tongue out.

Brat. He thinks fondly. “Anyway, they need to figure that out.”

“Mhm, can’t wait to see them running out like headless chickens trying to find anyone willing to play.”

Eddie shrugs at that. Despite his annoyance at Lucas being taken by the dark side, Jason and his gang, he didn’t actually have hard feelings towards the kid. Who was he to tell him to not pursue something he enjoyed doing? It would be hypocritical of him. And he was mostly annoyed with Dustin and Mike, who haven’t said anything. “They’ll figure it out.”

He reaches over to turn up the music a bit now that you were no longer on the edge of biting his head, something he admits to enjoying a little bit too much. He remembers to mention, “Oh, you wanna hit up the diner to pass time after school?”

“Oh yes!” You sit up, looking at him excitedly. “Can we get a strawberry shake? I’ve been craving that all night.”

Eddie can’t stop the smile as he nods, pulling into Hawkin’s High parking lot. “How can I deny you from that?”

It was a shocker to Eddie when he was approached by Chrissy before he made it to the cafeteria that day. He has his fair share of customers that make up Hawkin’s popular kids. They were the ones to pay the most so he never rejected their offers, even if they later would spit nasty words to him in the hallways.

He never thought he would see the day Chrissy Cunningham would be asking for him.

But money is money. It wouldn’t hurt to see what the deal was. So he waited for the last 10 minutes of the lunch period, telling you and making you wait outside the woods. You complained about coming along but he wanted to play it safe.

He wasn’t fond of bringing you along to his deals. It’s not that he didn’t want you by his side, he did, but there’s been way too many times where his customers would direct their anger of prices to him or you. He didn’t want you to see that, or even deal with it.

“Don’t scare her off Eddie. I know she’s Jason’s girlfriend but she’s actually really nice! So, don’t go doing your usual sneaking up on others and being intimidating, remember that one time you got a bloody nose from it and -“

Eddie hands you his half finished soda can he bought from the vending machine to stop your anxious rambling.

You already finished the one he bought you, but you stopped your monologue and took a sip, content. It was so easy for Eddie to be able to keep you happy and distracted. It made him feel good. “I won’t. Wait for me here, okay?”

——

Chrissy seemed to be distracted when he walked up to the usual spot. Her eyes staring off the distance as he comes up behind her, “Hey.”

He thought his voice was soft enough, but she jumped in her spot and turned around towards him. Big eyes surprised before she lets out a breathless chuckle , holding her arm.

“Woah.” So much for listening to your advice. He holds his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

The blonde shakes her head, rubbing her shoulder and throwing him a quick smile before sitting down on the picnic table. “No I should have been paying attention. I was zoned out.”

Eddie nods before moving to sit across the table, placing the metal lunchbox on the table between them. Chrissy plays with the sleeve of her sweater as Eddie opens the box to reveal the bags of weed.

“So..” she stammers, looking between Eddie and his box. “How does this work exactly?”

“Oh you know, like any other transaction.” Eddie watches her, “except cash only, and uh, for obvious reasons. “ he tilts his head, “No receipts.”

She nods along before he holds a bag towards her, “I’ll do you a half ounce for, uh..20. What do you say?”

Chrissy stares at the bag, then sighs and leans forward to cross her arms on top of the wooden table. She glances behind her as though expecting someone to show up.

Eddie couldn’t help but feel a bit defensive. Looking past her before he shuts the top down. “Look, uh, I’m starting to get a bit worried here. I really hope this isn’t some set up.”

He thinks back to you waiting for him at the entrance to the woods. What if they saw you there first?

Chrissy looks at him stunned and shakes her head. “No! No, of course not.” She bites her lip then sags her shoulders. “It’s nothing like that.”

“You afraid your boyfriends going to pop up and catch you doing a drug deal with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” He tries to keep the venom from his voice. “Not up to deal with that right now.”

“No really, its-its not that. He’s not even my boyfriend.” She adds, looking at Eddie a bit exasperated. “Not right now? Anyway, I don’t know..”

Eddie mouth forms an ‘o’. He wasn’t expecting that. Chrissy looked back down at her hands and let out another sighs.

“Oh. Well shit.” He laughs awkwardly and leans against his palm. “Uh, sorry about that? Uh..” he shrugs at her when she looks at him again. “I’m kinda surprised, didn’t he express his undying love for you this morning at the prep rally.”

She smiles sadly as she recalls that earlier morning and nods, “It was an argument after. He gets really overprotective. He didn’t like me agreeing to go to a party with a few friends and one thing lead to another and,” she does a hand motion, “It got too much, and I said I wanted a break.”

He hums, tapping his finger on the table before shaking his head. “Oh so he’s that type. Cant say I’m surprised with how he carries himself.”

Chrissy smiles at that, “Yeah. I’m just still kinda sad about it, he means well. But I’m not fragile or anything..so I thought to try something..to make me not think so much about it and go against what he says. Is that stupid?” She asks timidly.

“No. Not at all. Happens to all of us.” He says, opening the lunch box back up. “Uh I do sell blunts, it’s pre rolled and all. It’ll be easier for you to smoke. Seeing as this is your first time..”

He rummages through the box then clicks his tongue. He forgot he smoked his last one that he had in his box with you last night. “Problem is I only have them back in my trailer. So if you really want, you can drop by tonight..or I’ll bring them tomorrow.”

“I have no where to be after the game anyway.” She shrugs, nudging a stick against the dirt under the table with her shoe. “I was suppose to be with Jason, but..”

“Okay, cool.” He looks down at the lunchbox then decided to try to a bit more comforting, with the way she still looked so down. “If it makes you feel any better. He may be a total dick. But it’s disgustingly clear he uh loves you.”

Chrissy smiles fondly at that. Eddie continued, feeling weird he was even talking on behalf of someone he hated, “and uh, sometimes people are very protective over people they care about and shit. I definitely don’t let the one I care about touch half the stash I sell.”

“Y/N?” She asks, seeming to have perk up a little bit. No longer slouching and her expression was lifting, feeling more comfortable with him.

Eddie smiles at your name, feeling warm. “Yeah. Y/N” He fiddles with the lighter he had taken out of the box moments prior. “But uh anyway. I’m sure you and Jason will get back together in no time, And you’ll be back to being Hawkins favorite Queen and King.”

He says the last part more sarcastically than he meant too, but Chrissy either didn’t notice or didn’t mind because she only blushes.

“I don’t think we could take you and y/n spots though. In being the cutest couple .” She teases lightly after a moment. Eddie freezing in his seat as he registers words, the lighter slipping from between his fingers. . “I always thought you two were so cute. How long have you been together?”

Together.

Him and y/n together.

“W-what..what?!” His laughs nervously, getting up from his seat once he felt his body back in his control. “Couple... Couple? We aren’t a couple.”

Eddie doesn’t know why but the idea had his heart beating fast and face flushing. Couple. You and him, a couple.

Why did he suddenly feel like he couldn’t breathe?

“Oh..” Chrissy frowns again, watching him begin to pace. “I’m sorry. I thought you were.”

“No. No, nope,” he shakes his head fast, looking around the woods as though he was searching for answer. “I mean, she’s my best friend. I’m her best friend. No wayyy man.”

He looks back at Chrissy who was watching him. Eddie notices that the confused expression slowly beginning to turn into an amused smile but hid it behind her sleeve as she looks at Eddie in a way that was making him freak out more.

“What? What’s that look for?” He walks towards the table and leans his hand against the surface. “I-I really don’t like that look Chrissy.”

“I didn’t give you a look, Eddie”

“Yes you did. You’re looking at me like..you know something I don’t!” He pushed himself away from the table again and walks away from the table.

Okay he needed to chill out. This is normal. A lot of best friends can be mistaken for a couple. He seen it happen with Steve and Robin. The amount of times Robin would deny it and act disgusted was too much for her to not be telling the truth anyway.

So he shouldn’t be feeling so surprised that Chrissy had thought that. It just proves you both were that close.

You both were definitely closer than Robin and Steve, that’s for sure. He knows that.

What he doesn’t know is why he feels his palms were beginning to sweat. He stammers through his thoughts.

“We can’t be dating. That’s ridiculous.”

“Okay” She says simply.

“Yeah. Because we’re best friends.” He says again, to remind himself. “Completely platonic. And it would be crazy for that to change? It’s not like she would even see me anything other than a best friend. So really, it’s impossible. What you’re saying is highlyyy impossible.”

He mumbles, ignoring how the thought bugged him a bit, shaking his head. “Yeah.” He finally says it firmly. That conversation was over.

He’s barely aware of the faint sound of the bell ringing, “So. Uh, I’ll just see you tonight then. You can ride with me and y/n…who’s my best friend.”

Chrissy smiles sweetly and nodded. “Okay.”

—

Chrissy walked ahead and he came out the woods a few steps behind. You waved at Chrissy as she walked by before returning to a weird hop in place motion as you turned towards Eddie. He raised his eyebrow.

“Eddie you took so damn long and I feel like I’m going to pee myself because you thought it was a good idea to let me have two sodas, and we’re going to be even more late to class!” You complain, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along towards the school building. “Have you seen the way those bathrooms fill up ? It’s a like jungle in there!”

He didn’t pay a bit too much attention to the way your hand was wrapping around his wrist, before you eventually linked both your arms together. Because that was normal. You both were always touchy with each other, so it shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t a big deal.

And it wasn’t a big deal the way you were leaning in his space while you both sat in class after. Your body basically leaning across his lap as you stared down at the tic tac toe game he won fair and square. You glared down at his notebook before pulling away with an huff.

“Nuh uh, I don’t remember you putting that X . You did that when I was distracted.”

“That was my first turn. You told me to put it there because you accused me of using a cheating method before.”

“You’re so lying”

“Just admit it, I’m a master at tic tac toe.” He grins, flicking your forehead to push your buttons even more. “A man of many skills” You roll your eyes. “You could never beat me.”

“You underestimate me for the last time, Munson.” You begin drawing the 30th set of lines and he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the side of your face as you thought hard on your first move.

A couple.

Eddie may have had fleeting thoughts about dating you before. Ones he always denied and pushed down because he never wanted for it to see the light of day. He may believe he’s lucky with you being his best friend, but he wasn’t insane. He couldn’t have that much luck in his life.

And he would never risk ruining the chance of that luck he does have. He never wants to lose it.

But Chrissy’s damn words kept echoing, confirming his secret fantasy that he wanted to be reality. And all those thoughts wouldn’t stop streaming in. Like Chrissy’s simple mistake broke the dam that was holding it all in.

Cutest couple.

You smiled happily when he let you win for the first time. Writing a 1-30 on top of the page proudly when he looks towards Chrissy who was sat a few seats towards the side of the classroom, and she was already glancing towards you both. She flashed him a knowing look, and he looked away. The blush back on his cheeks.

Oh he was so fucked.

You both did everything together. There wasn’t a time where residents in Hawkins wouldn’t see you both raiding a corner store for late night snacks, or driving around town blasting his music enough for complaints to be filed.

One quick knock at each other’s windows and you both were off to whatever was desired that day or night.

So he couldn’t understand why Gareth had invited only you out to pizza. When everyone knows you and Eddie go everywhere together. It’s common fucking knowledge for Christ sake.

And why didn’t you tell him beforehand?

“Well, I mean, you have to take Chrissy right?” you had argued.

He felt like a little kid that was told no for the first time when you dismissed him after, being forced to watch you leave the room behind Gareth. He won’t admit to anyone that he glared daggers at the brunettes head when he drove away with you in his car.

You should had been in Eddie’s van.

If you really wanted pizza, why didn’t you tell him and he would have given Chrissy her blunts then take you himself. You didn’t need Gareth when you had him!

Chrissy was quiet in the car ride, looking curiously through the tapes. She seemed to be carefully reading through the playlists when he finally broke.

“Okay so..you know how you mentioned about you thinking me and y/n being a couple?” He reminds her which she nods to, “was there..is there something that makes you think that?”

She seems to think for a moment, placing the cassette on her lap. “Well. You both are so comfortable with each other. The way you look at each other too, I remember Jason mentioning how lovesick you looked when we would pass you two in the hallway. And how..” she hesitates but giggles, “you kinda look like a lost puppy following her around.”

Lovesick. Lost puppy.

“Oh Jesus Christ, I’m so screwed.” He groans as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“You asked Eddie”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” Eddie really is itching to grab a cigarette right now. “I thought, you know, I would never think about this. But then you go saying we were a couple..and im looking at y/n, thinking I don’t want to just look like one, I want us to be one. Shit, shit!.” He curses under his breath and finally gives in, reaching into his pocket with one hand.

“You’re making it seem like a bad thing, Eddie.” She says softly.

“It is. I’m her best friend and I was staring at her in class like some creep, you saw it.” He sticks the cigarette in his mouth keeping his eye on the road. “Now I’m really really pissed that I wasn’t invited to that..pizza date.”

He says the last word in disgust before he can stop himself. The jealousy was making its way through his veins and he hated it. Eddie shakes his head, pointing at himself. “See, this is not good.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” she starts, “You’re not the only one who looks lovesick.”

“What? Are you..” he stops trying to flick the lighter in hand on to look at her. “Does y/n look at me that way? Does..Nah, now you’re just pulling my leg now man.”

Chrissy hums, turning her gaze towards the window.

Eddie couldn’t help but feel some excitement rush through him. He speaks around the cigarette. “Really?”

“I see the way she looks at you.” Chrissy replies carefully , “I don’t think you’re the only one who has pushed down any feelings.”

A spark was ignited inside him. It matched the lighter in his hand as he quickly brings it to the end of his cigarette. He takes a huge drag to try to calm his jitter of nerves.

“Shit.” He blows out the smoke, opening the windows before he did so. “What the hell am I suppose to do?”

“Tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her- really? I can barely collect my thoughts right now!” He rubs his cheek sighing, growing frustrated.

“Maybe a date?” She suggests. “Take her to the diner next to Family Video.”

“We go there every week.”

“Umm. Oh! The bowling alley”

“She hates bowling. Nearly broke my ankle when it was her turn and I wasn’t even in front of her.”

“Okay. A picnic? That can be romantic.”

“It is? We had one a few weeks back.”

Chrissy sighs.

“The movies?”

“We’re banned. We either go to another town or watch a movie in my trailer.”

“Uh okay.., to lovers lake?”

“We go there.” He blushes, “We always sit in the back of my van and drink slushees.”

Chrissy tries not to smile. “How could I ever think you both were dating. That’s impossible, right?”

Eddie groans but nods, completely understanding now.

—

“Hey Gareth!” Eddie smile was tight as he slammed his friend’s locker closed before he was done putting his book away. “How was that pizza last night, hm?”

Gareth only looks up at his band mate and tries to mask his annoyance. “Didn’t y/n bring you a slice, you should know.”

You did. And he ate it happily with one hand on the wheel, with you back in his passenger seated complaining about how unhealthy it was for breakfast.

How it should be, you in his van and no one elses. Thank you very much.

“So,” Eddie clears his throat, crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers with his back pressed against them. The lock digging in the back of his lower spine as he leveled his friend with a more serious tone. “You got a thing for y/n?”

Gareth stares back.

“Nope. Do not do this to me right now.” Gareth attempts to walk away but Eddie grabs his shoulder again to keep him in place. “I already have to deal with those freshman”

“I’m just asking! I mean, it’s a bit weird that you both went to eat pizza together. So , if it was a date. I would like to know. Just, normal best friend things. You know how I am with her.”

“Yes. I do know, unfortunately.” The brunette pushes his hand off. “Look dude, it was nothing more than y/n wanting pizza. Not a date or whatever got your panties in a twist.”

“Cool, cool” Eddie nods, feeling more relieved at the fact. Gareth rolls his eyes and begins walking towards the cafeteria. “Just looking out for you! Don’t want my band mate getting heart broke one. She’s harsh like that.”

“Oh definitely,” Gareth laughs loudly, “so harsh that she wouldn’t stop asking me if she was too mean for not letting you come along. Then wouldn’t stop reminding to bring you a damn slice.”

“She did?” Eddie perks up, and Gareth groaned again. It made him feel a little better that you also were bothered by the fact he didn’t come along. Really, he wasn’t sure why he was so worried last night.

All that hope Chrissy started was growing more and he couldn’t help the bump in his step as he walked beside Gareth to the cafeteria.

“You both are hopeless.” Gareth states which Eddie ignores once he sees you sitting at the lunch table.

“She got uncomfortable by my pathetic attempt at flirting.” Eddie recounts later that week and sits himself on the stairwell. Chrissy fixing the bow in her hair as she listens to him. “I was trying to invite her to movie night, but she got quiet. And didn’t want to look at me then made an excuse that her stomach hurt.”

“I told you, maybe she was actually sick.”

“No. I know her.” He huffs, “I can just tell. Then the other day, we were laughing over some of the yearbook pictures. And she gave me that stupid smile of hers.”

It was vivid in his head. You were trying to speak between giggling as Eddie pointed out some funny pictures. Then he turned the page and there was the both of you, surrounded by the rest of the hellfire club and you were mimicking his devil horn signature minus the tongue.

“We look so cute!” You gasped, pointing at the photo. “I’m surprised they even put that there. I guess Mike begged Nancy.”

You looked up at him and smiled brightly, “I need to get a copy of this so I can put it up in my wall. Or maybe even on the side of my mirror..”

Eddie had nodded, distracted by the intensity of your smile. The way your eyes sparked and you seemed so excited at the prospect of having a photo of Eddie and you together.

It was moments like these. When he felt it was only you two, in this bubble that froze time, he would nervously glance at Chrissy. Who often was watching these tender moments and would hold up a small thumbs up to encourage him. Because even if he did slowly grow more confident, he needed reassurance.Hence his meetups with the cheerleader so he could recount these moments for advice.

It was a delicate matter, and he trusted Chrissy to not let him fuck this up.

But when he looked back at you, you had pulled away, breaking the small bubble and was staring down at the yearbook. No longer smiling.

It was becoming a habit. This pulling away, your smiles suddenly disappearing at random moments when he thought everything was going great.

“And I don’t know, one moment it was there. Then I looked away, and it was gone.” He recounts to Chrissy. “It’s been happening more often. I’m starting to think, maybe we both are wrong and I’m seeing it wrong, and I’m too obvious and she’s noticing. And uncomfortable. And..shit I don’t know.”

“Im sure it’s not that Eddie.” Chrissy sits down next to him on the steps. “Give it time”

And he wanted to. But you only pulled away further after that. You began to be more quiet, often letting him talk and listening instead. Everyday he tried to make a fool of himself more, to be able to see that bright smile that he knew the sun wouldn’t compare to.

Like when he fell to his knees on the parking lot the day he stayed back in class, and he had the chance of bumping into Chrissy to have her reassure him of his worries. Again.

Your laughter instantly making him feel less stupid for the way his knees ached and from the stares of others from his begging. He thought maybe he still could bring you back.

Yet your small smile after reassuring him a few minutes after, proved him wrong once again.

He didn’t understand. Why your once bright and bubbly personality was changing right in front of him. You could barely hold eye contact with him.

Your smiles didn’t reach your eyes.

He use to be able to make you smile, laugh to the point of verge of tears. It was always so easy for him to be able to comfort you and you would be back to your cheerful self. You never had to force a smile around him.

So why were you doing it now?

He wanted to push. Push you talk to him but that was the thing-

He never needed to push before. He would always ask, and you would crumble into your rambling and release all your worries to him. Knowing that he was listening and that his arms were open.

You never held back from opening up to him. Ramblings and weird questions was a daily occurrence. Your random worries always something Eddie welcomed because he loved the sound of your voice.

So for you to sit there, not bothering to make eye contact and insist it was okay, when it clearly wasn’t?

This was different. New territory for him and Eddie was lost. For the first time since he met you.

And those doubts, all those fears that he and Chrissy’s hangouts were meant to beat down in order to prepare him to confess to you, began to latch onto him.

What if you noticed his change in demeanor towards you? He tried not to act too differently after he realized he wanted more, realized he wanted to push his luck a little bit. But he’s been oblivious before, so maybe you noticed his feelings.

Maybe you were uncomfortable by it. Despite his hopes that you felt the same way, he could always be wrong.He could be wrong about his luck stretching that long.

He felt so overwhelmed by it. Anytime he felt saddened by his own mind, he would call you and your voice would keep him calm.

But could he call when you were the reason he was feeling this way?

He tries, really tries to get through the night but the phone is in his hand before he knew it.

You hung up on him. He had come close to confessing after you gave him the sweetest speech. Everything he dreamed to hear from you encouraging him to finally say the truth, and you fucking hung up on him.

Eddie stares at the wall across from him, the hallway suddenly feeling too small for him. It was closing in on him as he dialed your house phone again, fingers shaking as he listened to the multiple rings play out. After the 6th ring, he slammed the phone down.

“Fuck!”

—

“I need you.” He wills himself to not cry right there. Listening and waiting on the other side of the bathroom door. His body running on the adrenaline from the argument moments before.

He didn’t mean to blow up on you the way he did. He never once raised his voice towards you, but he couldn’t stop it. All the confusion, hope, and fear reached its breaking point when you tried to avoid him once again. The lies coming right out your mouth stabbed through him.

You never lied to him before. That’s what hurt. You lying and hiding from him made him want to break everything in sight but also, to break down crying himself.

Chrissy was wrong. He let her misconceptions warp his brain into thinking that he deserved anymore luck than what he had. He should have been grateful, for what he had already. This friendship that you built, who was he to wish for more?

Eddie Munson was not suppose to be a lucky person.

He pushed his limits and you were pulling away. Not only did he stupidly believe he had a chance of more, he may have forced the universe to rip away what they gave to him. Your silence an indication of that.

Eddie wiped the tear that ran down his nose, from leaning his forehead against the door trying to listen to anything from you. He pulled away as the silence stretched on. The hurt worsening as the seconds ticked by.

Fuck this. He shouldn’t have been so stupid.

—

He didn’t expect you to come to his trailer right after. Or for the way you began to ramble and pace around his room, your nervous voice filling his room in a way he had grown accustomed to in the years of friendship.

He missed it so much. He didn’t care if he still felt heartbroken at his realization that he couldn’t have you the way he wanted. Destroyed that he couldn’t even be lucky enough for that.

With you smiling softly at him, not a forced one after so long, as he held your cheek and apologized himself. He decided that he will gladly accept what he has now because you being there, laughing and kicking your feet as he carries to his van-

That was enough luck for him.

—

You slept in his room that night. Your socked foot nearly kicking him in the chin as you turned, stretching your body out as a yawn forced its way out. He opens one eye, glancing at his windows to see that it wasn’t that bright outside yet.

He drowsily waits for you to fall back asleep again, listening for your breaths to even out so he could go back asleep himself.

But you sat up, rubbing your eyes and pulling the blankets with you as you stand from his bed and stumble awkwardly towards his bedroom door.

Your small ow from kicking his lunchbox has him groaning loudly, pushing his face into his pillow. “What are you doing..” he rasps, hating to open his eyes to try to make out the numbers on his clock. “Its 6:00 am. We have an hour.”

He remembers the morning before, when you left earlier before he woke up. This wakes him a bit more, anxiety there as he pushes himself up from the comfort of his bed to a sitting position. You looking at him sheepishly from the door.

“I need to make a call.” You whisper, the large blanket wrapped around you making you look ridiculous. You seem to know what he was thinking as you continue to reassure him, “That’s all Eds. I’ll come back .”

“Hurry up.” He sighs, not bothering to ask who you could be calling this damn early, before flopping back on the bed and hugging the pillow.

Even if he was really sleepy, he stayed awake waiting for you to come back. His hand reaching out to touch where you were laying before, sighing impatiently at your absence.

You came back about 5 minutes later, climbing over him, kicking his side, to get to your side of the bed. He hums at feeling you lay back beside him, grabbing onto the blanket and pulling it, forcing you to roll over as it was still wrapped around you.

“Don’t be stingy, its freezing.” He murmurs. You smile and unwrap it before throwing half of it over his body. It becomes quiet then. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know you were facing him.

Your hand grabs his and Eddie falls back to sleep.

Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel about the way Max had narrowed her eyes at him after you both woke up again and gotten ready for the day. As though she was trying to burn him alive with just her mind.

She was waiting outside on her porch when you waved her over towards the van when you stepped out of his trailer.

“I called early, let your mom know you’ll be catching rides with us now.” You smile at the redhead, whom only sighs and gets up. “I can’t have you riding that scary bus”

“You only rode it for one day.” She states, rolling her eyes. Max looks at Eddie for a moment before shoving her backpack into his arms. “I call shotgun.”

You smile at that, shrugging at Eddie who stared between you two. “I’m cool with that.”

Now he understood why Lucas was always so confused with Max’s behavior. Sure, he had eavesdropped a few times when the kids gossiped about their love life, or what a 15 year would describe a “love” life. Most of the time he was bored if you had to stay in between classes, so he would let them go on and on about what else happens in their lives.

Lucas would complain that Max was avoiding him, or she was meaner than usual. Whom he had to remind, well her brother died in a mall fire the year before. Give her some time.

But he didn’t think she was this mean.

“This is what you listen to all day ?” She scoffs, noticing the Iron Maiden cassette case on the floor of the van. “Don’t you have anything less..”

“Scary?” You butt in, ignoring Eddie’s look of concern from you putting yourself between the seats. Clearly you didn’t understand his need for you to be safely seated.

“No, shitty.”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you realllyy listen, okay?” He cuts off your small giggle, reaching over to turn up the volume a bit. “This, Max, is real music. It’s not just about how it sounds, but the complex lyrics and-“

“Oh god, make him stop.”

“Keep going Eds.” You place a handle on the drivers seat as your other hand pull gently on one of his curls. He perks up at you defending him. “Tell her about the verrry deep lyrics of Ladies Room by Kiss.”

Maybe not.

“Okay, how about you,” he gently pushes you back, “Sit down! You know I hate when you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laugh, reaching for your bag and getting distracted by searching inside it.

He missed that. Your laugh and the smiles you been throwing at him all morning. It didn’t make it any easier for him though. It felt like his heart was swelling with the amount of adoration he had for you, it was going to be the death of him.

Max was staring at him again. Studying him, trying to decipher whatever she had in mind when he tilts his head at her, expecting for another insult.

She looked away when you called her name and begin to ask her a question.

“So everything is okay now?” Chrissy asks, looking over the blunt Eddie had handled to her, sliding some cash to him.

There was a few minutes left of lunch and you had gotten dragged by Robin to join her and Nancy for lunch. Something about girl talk, Eddie not being allowed. It was funny the surprised look on face when they dragged you away. He decided to meet up with Chrissy to talk about the night before.

“Yeah.” He says, happy that it felt true. “She finally told me that she just been in her head again and I guess, it was really bad this time.” He sighs, “maybe if I tried harder to notice, it wouldn’t have gotten to that point.”

Chrissy watches the soft expression on his face. “Figure out when you’ll confess then?”

“I don’t know Chrissy.” He swallows, pushing his bangs out of his face. He really needed to ask you to cut them again. “I think it’s best if I don’t..ruin anything. That whole time I thought she was acting that way because of me, afraid maybe she could tell the difference.”

“And I realized how fragile this whole thing is. And I don’t know,” he drops a stick he was messing with and looks at her. “Im still not even sure how she feels about me. I can’t read her. How can I not read my own best friend!”

He feels like dropping to the ground and never getting up. He felt okay this morning but now Chrissy has him, once again, going on a tangent.

“I made a mistake of calling her that night. And I was just gonna talk then somehow-somehow! It lead to me trying to confess to her. I was this close and she hung up! And acted the way she did.”

“Try again.”

“No, she’s opening up to me again and I have her back. that's all that matters now and we’re back to normal!” He assures. “besides, if she didn't understand my confession, or maybe she did and ignored it. it doesn't matter, we’re good now.”

“Did you straight out say that you liked her?” Chrissy emphasizes on the ‘her’

“…”

“Eddie ?”

“Something along the lines..”

“Right.” Chrissy tugs on her skirt when she stands and crosses her arms. “Eddie how can she know if you’re not saying it clearly.”

“It’s not that easy. I mean, it is easy to talk about how I feel, never had that problem before. We always talk about our problems. But these are..my feelings that may not be returned. And-”

He motions towards her. “And I barely touched how I really feel on that phone call. It was rookie stuff!”

Chrissy thinks. “What are your feelings then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You always are worrying about saying the wrong thing, or if you’re looking into things the right way.” She considers. “Why do you like her?”

“Why? It’s y/n.” He frowns. “Who wouldn’t like her?”

“What about you? Why do you like her, how do you feel?”

Anyone can say that they like how you look, the way hair frames your face, or the way your clothes fit you. Or how you carry yourself or your sweet voice. You were a beauty that Eddie feels like no one should touch.

But for Eddie, it was deeper than that. He could name a hundred things he likes about you.

From the way you wake up with a bird nest as a hair that he often had to take tangles out as you sat sleepily, to how your nose scrunches slightly whenever you hate a certain taste of food but you never say anything to Uncle Wayne when he cooks, or how you would hide your smiles behind your hands when you watched romantic movies and the way your eyes redden at particular scenes.

Or the way you don’t realize how loud you’re being sometimes, ducking your head in shame when you do and he would tell you that it was okay. He likes when you are loud and come out of your shell at random moments.

He likes when you link your arm with his, because you have no problem being touchy. Your hands shoving at him or slapping his arm playfully whenever he annoyed you. The smell of your fruit scented shampoo filling his nose when you invade his space with no care, hugging him during scary movie scenes or when you felt particularly sad that day. That same shampoo brand that has its own spot in his bathroom.

Along with all your knickknacks that you bring to him when you visited the thrift store with your mom. Your excitement at the small things and that fucking smile and eyes.

“I..” Eddie isn’t sure where he could start. There was so much else in mind but those details, those small moments that make up everything in his life, is something he wants to keep to himself.

“ ‘like’ feels so weak compared to how I really feel Chrissy” he finally pushes out. She waits for him to continue.

“It’s different. I feel lucky. Like I have something that is a one in a life time chance..like if I were to loose that, everything would fucking suck. My life wouldn’t have that..shine anymore.”

“Because that’s what she is. She’ s this light, this..” he struggles, he never was one for poetry but dammit if he tries. “This fucking ray of sunshine!”

He laughs and tries to fight back the blush that was waiting to spread across his neck from how cheesy he sounded but he couldn’t stop. “She smiled at me the first time we met and I was like, yeah. Yeah, nothing will match that.”

“And she fits into my life like a lost puzzle, something I was missing before I came to Hawkins. Makes me feel whole and I’ll be incomplete with out her, and..and I just..”

“I’m happy with our friendship. I don’t want to even think about losing that, but maybe..maybe I want to wake up and actually be able to kiss her good morning . And goodnight, and all the time in between. “He revels at the idea. “I already have so much of her,-“

He smiled shyly as he looks at Chrissy, who was looking at him as though she was proud. He was going on for too long, lunch was ending. “But maybe I want that part of her. Where we could actually tell people we are a couple.Where it’s true”

Chrissy wraps her arms around him as he huffs out a huge breath from his emotional speech before she pulls away and smiles.

“Now, find a way to tell her that. On a real date, of course.”

“That’s going to be hard.”

“I know. But you’ll figure it out Eddie.”

He feels that confidence return and he becomes hopeful again.That spark appearing again and fuck it.

He’s going to test his luck.

*・゜゜・*:.。..。.:*・*:゜・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゜・**・゜゜・*:.。..。.:*・*:゜・*:

Taglist: @bratckerman @beepisbeep @thegirlthatsfalling @ssolariiaa @hauntingtherosebush @akwzilla @fujiihime @run-up-that-hilll @eddieswifu @kaitcreatesart @mel119g @sole-screws @a1hymy @lmili @lostgirl-28 @crazyjenny8675309 @coolsnowker @scoopsr0bin @raydenrrobertson @maximizedrhythms @thegirlwhohides @waverzzzzzzzz @cherry-vamps @yourdailymemedelivery @bietchz @whatareyouhidingpeter @shinydixon @strangerthingsstories5255 @ureleesian @sad-darksoul @erisdogwood @trinsghost @vaness20 @stiegasaw @guyinachair27 @boomitsallie1 @hazydespair @natashaashleymarvelromanoff @darlingbravebelle @mnskai @minejungwoo @iloveeddiemunson13

if I missed anyone or it didn't tag right, im sorryyy ! dm me or reply to this for the next part if you decide to stick around (: ok imma hit post , eat my cupcake and hide bc anxiety and im insecure of this haha. hope you all have a wonderful day. drink water, eat something, rest. byee <33

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson angst #Eddie pls THINK #eddie munson imagine

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hamiltonaf · 9 months

Text

Daddy’s Princess | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Dad!Kylian Mbappé x Mom!Female Reader

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Angst if you squint but mainly fluff

A/N: Hi my loves. Apologies I’ve been away for so long, I had so much going on but now I’m back. This has been in my drafts for so long, I think it came to a point where I was writing this half asleep. Not proofread, hope you babes enjoy.

Also, you’re more than welcome to send requests .xx

1 year. A year filled with ups and down, but ups for the most of it ever since giving birth to my bundle of joy, Sofia. I couldn’t believe how quickly a whole year has flew by and she’s already one.

The downside of this one year was the harsh break up between Kylian and I just a few weeks after Sophia was born. Post-partum depression was already bad, the break up just made it all worse. Everything was perfectly fine, or so I thought, Kylian was so excited for us to finally be parents and so was I. Little did I know that he wasn’t ready for the odd hours of waking up for feeding or hearing cry’s then having to wake up in a couple of hours for training, plus balancing our relationship, it was apparently all too much for him to handle so he felt the need to sacrifice our relationship to make it easier for him to focus on his career.

He was so used to being an uncle that he didn’t realise that parenting was a whole other ball game. I was willing to reason with him and do all night duties so he can sleep in but unfortunately that wasn’t good enough. Co-parenting isn’t easy.

It really sucks to co-parent because even though Kylian and I have broken up, I still have to see him every weekend when he comes over to spend time with her or he picks her up to take her out for the day. We’re civil, basically acting as if we’re friends, but who are we kidding ? Ever since Sofia was 4 months I’ve noticed Kylian being particularly nice to me, passing compliments, asking me to tag along with him when it’s his turn to spend the day with Sofia, interacting with my socials a lot more…something is cooking.

Unfortunately my pettiness is here to stay, so whenever he’s being ‘overly’ nice, I just brush it off like it’s nothing. It just bothers me that he didn’t try hard enough and think about what I was going through. It was hard when I eventually had to go to work, I was so attached to Sofia that I didn’t want to leave her but I didn’t have much of a choice. The last thing I need to hear whilst I’m depressed is that I wanted to have Kylian’s baby just to get money. Absolute nonsense.

The interesting thing is that even though Kylian isn’t with us everyday of the week 24/7, once Sofia is with her dad she doesn’t want to leave him. She’s so attached to him, funnily enough that she doesn’t even bother crying for me when I’m around.

So since she’s daddy’s little princess, Kylian insisted that we had to have a big first birthday party for her at his place. I went along with it and we both settled on a Disney princess theme.

Kylian had outdone himself, the party was as big and fancy as one would throw when they turn 16. I invited a few people from my side, majority family and a few friends.

Sophia was looking absolutely adorable in a pink puffy dress with a gold crown to top it off. I held Sophia on my hip as I greeted the guests, it’s as if Sophia has a sixth sense that she spotted Kylian approaching us from behind. She immediately started jumping and squealing, eagerly waiting for her dad to carry her. “Is that Princess Sophia ?” He said in shock. I smiled at their interaction as she nodded her head and got shy.

“Come here princess” he held his arms out for her which she happily jumped into his embrace. “My baby looks so cute. Who picked out your dress ?” He pecked her cheek. “Mama” she said as she pointed at me. My heart melted. “Who dresses you better princess ?” I wiggled my brows at her. “Mama” she admitted shyly. “You made daddy sad” he pouted as he faked a cry. Sophia falling for it, she cupped his face and kissed his nose. Catching us both off guard, Kylian and I burst out laughing. “Bubs you’re too cute” I said as I cupped her cheeks with one hand and kissed her cheek. “Doesn’t mama look so beautiful” he said as he looked at Sophia. I suddenly froze. Was not expecting that.

“That’s because mama is a princess” she smiled. “Awww my little pumpkin pie, give mama a kiss” I leaned in and pouted at her, which she gave me a kiss. “Does dad get a kiss from mama too ?” He playfully asked. I gave him a side-eye. Just then our interaction was disrupted when someone hugged be from behind, catching me by surprise. “Darling” a familiar voice said. I turned around and was met by my work friend, Nate. “Oh my god ! Nate ! I’m so glad you could make it” I said as I pulled him in for a hug. Nate is a good friend of mine from work. I believe the crucial thing to mention here is that Nate has a girlfriend, whom which I’m very good friends with as well, unfortunately she couldn’t make it since she was away on a work trip… life of a model.

Kylian hasn’t met him or heard of him up until now. “Nate, I’d like you to meet Kylian, Sophia’s dad and my little princess, Sophia !” I introduced them. “Pleasure to meet you” they shook hands but Kylian didn’t look too pleased. “And look at this girl, beautiful like her mum” he cooed at Sophia. “So I’ve been told” I said proudly. Sophia got shy and cuddled up closer to Kylian. “Anyway let me not take up too much of your time. I’ll meet with the others in the mean time” Nate said with a soft smile and excused himself. It was so obvious that the energy changed in the air, well for me at least.

“I can’t believe you did that” Kylian said. “Excuse me ? Did what ?” I raised a brow in confusion. “Do you really think this is the time and place to bring a lover of yours ? That too to introduce our daughter to ?” He lowered his voice just so I could hear him. “What the…are you okay ? If you don’t know what’s going on, then don’t give me your 2 cents !” I said back. “I know exactly what’s going on. I’m not stupid. Keep him away from Sophia.”

“I- you know what… believe what you want” I rolled my eyes at him. “Let’s go bub” I said as I held my arms out for her. She happily obliged to jump into my arms as we walked away. I can’t believe he got so jealous.

I ended up getting caught up in a conversation with my mum and Fayza, mainly because I had their granddaughter in my arms. I was baffled mid conversation when the topic of discussion was about having another child. Did Kylian not tell them about our break up or are they assuming we’re back together. I didn’t even bother arguing with them to avoid any further drama.

Kylian took me by surprise when he took the initiative to be the MC. Everyone had dropped their conversations to go get seated, while I had to go stand beside Kylian since I had Sophia with me. “Hello everyone and welcome to my baby’s first birthday !” Kylian announced as everyone erupted into cheers, Sophia had joined everyone as she clapped along, making us giggle and look at her in awe.

“This party would not have been possible without you all so thank you to every one of you for coming” he paused as everyone started clapping. He then glanced at me for a brief second before placing a hand on my back and pulling me to stand closer to him. “This party would also not be possible without my (Y/N), who has given me the greatest blessing of being a father. I will forever be thankful for all that you did and continue to do. Thank you for also shaping me into being a better version of myself. Lastly, thank you for helping me out and telling me what Sophia needs when she’s crying” everyone had burst into laughter at his last line.

“So a round of applause for (Y/N) !” He yelled as everyone followed by cheering. He then turned to look at me as he pulled me in for a hug. My heart had completed melted at his speech. More especially when he referred to me as my (Y/N). He released from our hug and kissed my cheek. It’s as if we forgot that we had Sophia in between us, it was only until she said “I love you mama” and kissed my other cheek that I snapped back into reality. “I love you more bubba” I smiled and kissed her cheek.

We then sang for her and cut her cake before everyone was free to mingle and eat. Sophia was actually starting to get crabby I guess with all the attention she was itching to play with the other kids so I accompanied her on the jumping castle. Low-key reliving my childhood through Sophia.

Nate then caught me by surprise when he joined us on the jumping castle, we were laughing more than talking. I guess our laugh was that loud that it caught Kylian’s attention. “Dada jump !” Sophia squealed as soon as she saw Kylian make his way towards us.

She quickly lost interest in jumping in these few minutes that she sprinted into her dads arms. “Tired bubs ?” He asked her softly as she cradled her face into his neck. She shook her head. “Do you want your bottle ?” He asked. She nodded her head. He then gave me a glance as a sign of help. I quickly said goodbye to Nate to help Kylian out.

“Wanna come by mama ?” I cooed. She shook her head as if I was a stranger. I gasped in shock. “You just broke mama’s heart” I faked a cry. Sophia actually started giggling. As we were walking into the house, both our mums spotted us walking together. “Aww where are you taking our baby ?” Fayza cooed. “She’s hungry, (Y/N/N) and I will take care of her” Kylian said. Both of our mums shared a look before moving out of our way.

Once we were inside, it was total peace and silence. Just the three of us, with of course the party happening being a soft background noise. Kylian sat her on the kitchen counter top and was about to make her bottle but I stopped him. “Watch her..I’ll do it” I said with a soft smile. He then kept her occupied by making small talk with her and played a game.

It didn’t take me long to make her bottle. After testing to see if the temperature was fine, I shook the bottle in front of her to see her reaction. “Who do you want to feed you ?” I playfully asked. “Mama !” She squealed. “Now you’re leaving dada for mama ?” Kylian acted offended and faked a cry. In the cutest way possible, she covered her eyes with her tiny hands and the cutest smile on her face. I cradled her in my arms and walked over to the couch to sit down. She held her own bottle and got distracted when Kylian started making faces at her. “Oii stop it” I joked. He then sat down beside me. “Is it a good time to talk now ?” He asked curiously. “Depends on what the topic is” I said as I glanced over.

“It’s about us” he hesitantly answered. I remained silent for a while before speaking up, “Not the perfect timing but I can’t run away from this so you might as well just be frank” I shrugged. “I feel terrible ever since I left you and Soph. It was wrong of me to let you take care of her on your own when you needed me the most. Spending time with the both of you in these last few months have shown what I was missing out on this whole time. I want to be with you every step of the way to take care and watch our little princess grow” he said. I was left speechless. “I know it’s a lot right now, but I obviously wouldn’t have dropped this on you if our feelings weren’t mutual” he smiled softly. “How do you know our feelings are mutual ?” I raised a brow.

“I notice the little things, when you get flustered after I compliment you. Especially earlier when I asked for a kiss until that idiot ruined our moment” he said annoyed. “Wait wait… is this about Nate ?” I furrowed my brows. “No !” He scoffed. “Oh my god. It is ! You’re jealous of him aren’t you ?” I started giggling. “What ? Me.. jealous ? No” he laughed. “Ky, I just know when you’re lying” I shook my head trying to fight back a smile. Sophia finished her bottle and handed it over to me. I then held her upright against my chest to rub her back. “Okay fine. I was triggered to do this sooner. I’ll forever hate myself if I didn’t try to make things right with you. I don’t want to lose my girls. I’ve always loved you and never stopped loving you”

I was taken aback by everything he said. “Why didn’t you come back then ?” I asked. “Because I figured you wouldn’t want me back so soon after I what I did. You didn’t deserve that and I thought I didn’t deserve you, but I couldn’t let you go.. after all I’m still in love with you. So I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me and allow me to have a second chance” he said hopeful. I sighed. “You’re making this harder because I literally see Sophia’s face when you look like that” he broke into a smile. Speaking of Sophia, she fell off to sleep. Sleeping beauty. “You’re lucky you’re her dad” I smiled.

“So you forgive me ?” He broke into a smile. I nodded my head. He was about to make noise until I shushed him and pointed at Sophia. “Oh sorry” he said in a hushed tone. He then pecked Sophia’s forehead then looked at me. “What ?” I asked confused. “You didn’t answer my question from earlier” he grinned. “Which was ?” I raised a brow. “Can daddy get a kiss too ?” He wiggled his brows. “I’m feeling petty so not right now” I grinned. “Ahh chérie just one” he pouted. “Later Kyky” I said as I stood up. He then took Sophia from my arms and carried her. “I think I’ve been tortured enough by how you look every time I see you” he pouted. “Nice try” I then surprised him by pecking his lips. “That was too short” he pouted.

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melanieph321 · 6 months

Note

Hi can you write angst Rúben finding you sick because of your pregnancy in the bathroom after an away game, he's panicking and take care of you for the rest of the night

Love this! Switched it up a lil bit.

Ruben Dias x Reader - Here For You

Enjoy!

You were pregnant with your second child, and Ruben had been the epitome of support and care for you throughout the entire journey. He had been there for every prenatal appointment, had endured the late-night cravings and mood swings, and had even renovated his office so that you could work from home and focus on your growing family.

One day though, when Ruben came home from training, he was greeted by a scene that made his heart race with panic. You were lying on the bathroom floor, clutching your stomach and gasping for breath. Your face was crunched up with discomfort and your eyes were glassy with fear.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Ruben shouted, dropping his gym bag and rushing to your side. "Are you okay?"

You tried to speak, but your voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know," you managed to say. "I just feel so sick. I've been vomiting all day."

Ruben's mind raced with worst-case scenarios, but he knew he needed to stay calm. "Should I call the paramedics?" He asked, a hand rubbing your back.

"No. I think it's normal. I'll be fine. Just help me get off the floor."

You had barley finished the sentence before being cradled into Ruben's strong arms. He brought you to your bedroom, setting you down on the bed.

"I'll be right back." He reassured.

You knew what he was going to do. He was going to call the school your son went to. You were supposed to pick him up an hour ago, however, with your aches, you hadn't made it out of the front door.

Nevertheless, your son was picked by one of Ruben's friends who's daughter went to the same school.

You had managed to drift off to sleep when a small set of hands patted your face.

"Hey, mommy needs to rest." Ruben said, catching your son next to you in bed, trying to get your attention.

"It's okay." You smiled and invited your son to lay under the covers with you. You were feeling much better now that you had gotten some rest.

"Is the baby sick too?" Your son asked, his small hands roaming your pregnant belly.

"No, the baby is fine." You ran a hand through his locks. "How was school honey?"

"Okay. Uncle John picked me up."

"He did?"

You looked to Ruben who stood watching you in the door frame.

"Remind me to call and thank him." You said.

"No need. John was glad to help."

Still, you couldn't help but to feel guilty for being such a trouble when pregnant.

"Come on son, time to get you washed up and ready for dinner." Ruben took care of most of them chores that night. He left you to stay in bed whilst he took care of dinner, helped your son with his homework and eventually put him to bed.

He returned to you in bed once the house was quiet and all the lights were off.

"What?" You asked, as Ruben had crawled into bed without saying a word, just grabbing a hold of your hands and pressing them to his face and his lips.

"I was so scared when I found you in the bathroom like that." Ruben pressed soft kisses to your fingertips. You ran your free hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, but I promise you, I'm all good now."

Ruben shook his head. "I know, I know. I was just....so scared."

There was more to it than that, you could tell. "What is it baby?"

Ruben lifted his head to meet your eyes, reavilng that his eyes were glossy with tears. "I don't know what I would have done if I lost you." He said, voice thick.

"Oh, baby..." You pulled him into your embrace, letting his weight press you down against the matress. "You will never lose me." You said, your hands cupping his face.

"Us." He muttered.

"What?"

"Lose us." He corrected, a hand slipping under your shirt, stroking the crease of your belly.

You smiled and nodded. "That's right, you'll never lose us."

Ruben's head dropped to your lips, kissing you hard. You kissed him back with equal amount of passion, reminding yourself how greatful you were for your family.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

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cameronspecial · 6 months

Text

Savour The Moment

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: With Drew watching Stella for the day, they spend as much time as they can together.

A/N: Inspired by this video.

Masterlist

With Y/N out, Drew is left in charge of taking care of Millie alone. Normally, he would let the three-year-old play somewhere in his office, so he could keep an eye on her while he played his video game with his friends. She would be content with colouring or making up her own stories until her dad called it a day with his games. Today, however, all she wants to do is be in his grasp. Austin’s and JD’s yells can be heard through his headphones, but he is brought out of the game by the tiny tugs on his shirt. “Up, please, Daddy,” she demands, reaching up for him. He pauses the game. “Hey, guys. Give me a second. Mills needs me,” he informs his castmates on the other end of the headphones. They voice their understanding, telling him to tell the little girl hi from her favourite uncles. He brings his daughter into his hold, “What’s wrong, Baby?” “Rapunzel,” she simply states while pointing at one of his computer monitors. He chuckles, “You want to watch Rapunzel while Daddy plays his game?” She nods her head. “I hungry,” she adds, rubbing her stomach to prove her point.

Drew hmms in confirmation and kisses the back of her hair. He picks her up and takes her into the kitchen to get her a snack. She pleads for some ice cream, but Drew knows he’ll get in trouble for feeding the girl dessert before dinner. They settle on apple slices with Nutella, not the healthiest thing, but hopefully better than ice cream. He sits back down on his gaming chair and pulls up Tangled on the monitor in front of them. Millie watches as the opening scene begins, opening her mouth so that her dad can feed her. He knows Y/N would chastise him for feeding their little girl, who is old enough to feed herself, but he knows she is growing and he needs to savour this moment.

He scoops some Nutella on the apple and brings it to Millie’s lips. Her eyes are glued to the screen. He can probably get back to his game, but he wants to spend a little more time with his focus on his daughter. As they get half an hour into the movie, Millie has finally finished her snack and Drew decides he can get back to his game. “Can Daddy play his game over here, Baby?” Drew seeks her approval, pointing to the monitor that shows Austin and JD’s gameplay. The little girl nods, snuggling into her father’s hold with her eyes still on the screen. Drew picks up his game controller again and calls out to his friends to restart the game so he can join them. He ignores the teasing of his friends about how he is such a sucker for his daughter, calling them bad names under his breath with his hands pressed over the toddler’s ears.

——

Y/N walks into the office to find Millie asleep on Drew’s chest and the end credits of Tangled rolling on the screen in front of her. Her eyes land on Drew, who is focused on playing whatever shooter game is on the other computer screen. She wants to speak up to draw his attention but pauses. Her hand rests against her baby bump and she leans against the door frame. Y/N has to savour the moment before their little girl is all grown up and doesn’t need them anymore.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#daddy drew #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey series

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ashersanity · 3 months

Note

if there is stepbro whitney, there is pervert uncle wren, like you are so similar in age, he never felt your uncle, especially when taught you all about sex and took all your virginities

content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con, whatever you call it, pc is adopted and big brother whitney is a bitch.

Y’know, this is pretty fucking funny to get considering I’ve been fixated on Whitney’s and Wren’s possible relationship in the game that I made the fuck up since they’ve never met before, never so much as shared a word. I’m still convinced they’re related.

There’s just way too many similarities about them and Vrel answered my question with a “I shan’t say” when asked. That basically confirms it for me. The blonde hair, the names both starting with a ‘W’ and the smuggling tendencies? I mean, where else did Whitney ever learn to pickpocket randoms on the streets? There’s gotta be something at least and I’m not backing down till they properly meet one way or another. Fucking laid back older sibling and bratty little sibling, I’ve got so much shit on Whitney and Wren, it’s crazy.

That’s not the main focus though, is it?

Unlike big brother Whitney who’s going to be all rough about it, demanding to take your virginity just for the mere satisfaction of having taken it to begin with, Wren will be a little more different. All smiles, that’s simply how it is with him. Wicked grin plastered on his face, soft brown eyed boy, something so very welcoming about him that makes you wanna listen to his comforting words, lightly ushered into your ears. The same ones where he’d reassure you over and over about how this is fine, slipping your hand lower over his throbbing erection insistently nudging against your palm, barely restrained by the constricting fabric of his trousers.

He’ll be gentle about it at first, brush it off as mere teasing and being playful with each other cuz that’s what family does, right? Don’t mind the lingering glances of his gaze over your barely buttoned shirt, where the collar hangs low to reveal your pretty, flushed skin beneath the loose fabric. Calls you shit like “doll” and “sunshine” as terms of endearment and affection, loving the way a faint blush dusts your cheeks at those words, telling him off. Obviously, it isn’t normal to be this chummy with your uncle, chummy enough that you’re comfortably sat on his lap, legs hooked over his hips and tongues down each others throats, uselessly grinding away.

First kiss went to him without even realizing it, planting his lips against the surface of your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your lips before firmly pressing his mouth to your own with a breathless sigh. Barely have a time to register what the fuck even happened before the smuggler is pulling away from you, as if none of it even happened in the first place. ‘Course, it escalates to more than short pecks and stiff lips, now willingly parting for his pink tongue demanding entry, seeking yours. Next thing you know, you’re now getting a taste of his cock, musky scent heavy against your face with your nose buried in his dark blonde patch, giving the length an experimental suck.

Alright, so you may or may not have given your first kiss to him and he’s given you the taste of cock, quickly grown addicted to it like a typical cockwhore would, like he trained you to be. Just the subtle spreading of the blonde’s legs as he chats over the table of fuck all with his buddies, the stretch of his jeans over his long legs has you flushing like a virgin. Well, technically you are one, that is, until he takes that away from you too.

Was the same thing as always, settled on his lap, legs dangling from your position with the two of you sloppily making out. Routine you picked up on, sit on uncle Wren’s lap and you’ll be left with each other’s frames needily pressed against one another, mouths refusing to part away. Offhandedly mentions about your virginity, practiced hands dragging lower, lower than usual as you stiffen up on the spot. It’s ok, he promises. It’s ok, uncle Wren is simply here to help you learn for later on, how to take a real cock. So, just let him do this just this once, hastily freeing his dick, springing up like a starved man that’s been eagerly waiting for this very moment, smacking against your bare backside.

Oh, he’s going to have fun ruining his cute little sunshine’s hole, alright.

Grip on your hips, tight and rhythmically squeezing the soft flesh between his fists, utterly enthralled. Watching on as you bounce down on his cock like a needy whore in heat, coming undone. Gotten the taste of real cock and now, you’re never going to live without it, not without your constant pawing at his belt from now on. Fuck, Wren loves it. There’s nothing prettier than that adorable expression you make once you finally sink down to the base, curved just right to fill you up and reach places you would’ve never thought so before. The hot sounds of your soft, squishy insides tightening around him, sucking him right in as though you’re begging not let go. You were made for this, fucking made to be taken like a slut on your own uncle’s lap, a now deflowered tulip.

Will Whitney be happy about this? Fuck no, bitch is probably seething in his seat thinking about it. The stutter of his hips, pausing over your now loosened hole that’s been fucked open by good ol’ uncle Wren. Cmon, don’t tell me that motherfucker wouldn’t have an inferiority complex over it, wanting to be better than the other and so he ruthlessly slams into you over and over again. Mind redirecting to the stuffing of his own fat cock in your slutty tight heat, taking big brother’s heated thrusts so well.

Honestly, it might as well end with both of you, in a compromising position, stuck between both blondes. Uncle Wren’s dick up your ass and Whitney’s own down your throat because of his shitty oral fixation. Both collectively groaning and cursing like whores, heads thrown back at the feel of your warm, wet hole and mouth welcomingly inviting their thick lengths inside.

Can this family get any sicker at this point?

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randomlonelymusician · 9 months

Text

Lacey's Petshop Theory/Analysis (So Far)

So Lacey's Petshop dropped a couple of hours ago, and here's my thoughts so far after watching the video twice and doing some rough transcriptions.

Illegible text transcriptions HERE.

Warnings for disturbing imagery, abuse, blood, and animal death. Also spoilers.

So here's my overall takeaway from this entry:

There are two stories going on. The story of Lacey, who represents Rocio Yani (Lacey Game's cofounder), and the story of how the games came to be. They're very heavily connected, but not everything we're shown in the Lacey games is exactly what happened to Rocio.

In Lacey's Petshop, Lacey's uncle kills her dog. After years of abuse from him and him killing this one bit of happiness she has in her life, she kills him. She hides his remains under the bed, and is afraid to leave the room after this.

Lacey seems to be a sort of stand-in for Rocio, who has clearly suffered similar abuse. There are two directions that Rocio's connection to the "bad versions" of the Lacey games could go: they were vent pieces to she could express her trauma, or she is literally connected to the games, living out a 2000s-esque life while her trauma seeps through in the bad endings.

Now, for further explanations.

I think it's pretty evident that Lacey's uncle killed her dog. With how she constantly mentions him "taking her angel away", and how the dog's face appears while a mutilated leg/bloody eye flash on screen.

The motifs connecting the image of the dog to animal death and distress go even further:

I believe that Lacey killed her uncle after this mostly due to how images of a mangled/rotting foot and a bloody eye when she is talking about how "he is still under the bed" and that she "can't leave"

The lines about her not being able to leave also could imply some sort of guilt. The mirror scene could also reinforce this, since she sees horribly distorted versions of herself.

I also don't think every game is a direct representation of her trauma, since the timeline get a little messy if they are. Especially Lacey's Wardrobe. That's the one that sticks out as different from Lacey's Diner and Lacey's Petshop, which both focus on the abuse from her uncle. Both Lacey's Diner and Petshop do both show that she killed him, with in Lacey's diner she is cooking him and her trauma into the food and serving it to others (a representation of what what is doing with the games, maybe?"

BONUS NOTE: After you click the... substance on the left, it shows this image, which features Rocio's name.

As for what's happening in the real world. I'm actually going to go with the theory that Rocio is literally connected to the game as Lacey, and that's why there's bad endings that didn't used to be there. Everyone in the story remembers how they used to play Lacey games, and never seem to remember anything disturbing. But now that Rocio is connected to the game, her trauma is infecting it.

I think that her being connected to the wires is more literal than some may take it.

Forming a bit of a timeline, Laceygames.com / Yaniasogames started in 2004, and from the interview with Grace Asop confirms that they parted ways in 2010. This means that the "infections" were more recent, which is why no one has been discovering them until now.

Lacey / Rosio just wanted to have a normal life, so she connected herself to 2000s-esque flash games to make that a reality. But her past traumas ended up seeping into those games, creating the grotesque imagery that we now know.

I think that's all I have so far. Here are my favorite screencaps from this episode that I didn't get to use:

If anyone has any comments, ideas, or additions, please add them! This series has brought me back into the analog horror community, and it's really fun to discuss!

#lacey's flash games #lacey flash games #lacey games #lacey's petshop #lacey's pet shop #lacey's diner #lacey's wardrobe

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jo-harrington · 1 year

Text

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 2)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 8.4k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, Babysitter Steve, No Upside Down means slightly still King Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, no smut in Part 2 either but the next chapter does get steamy.

Note: Ok big shout out to @ghost-proofbaby for her Steve lessons and just generally being a Steve soundboard. I'm not a Steve girl yet but...idk. And then also to @trashmouth-richie for being so supportive and listening as I ramble on about plot things. I admire you both as writers and love you guys as friends; thank you for your support.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“No, no, no,” Steve whined as he approached the mirror, squishing his face and pinching at his cheeks. “This is a dream. I’m still asleep. Or I’m dead.”

He cleared his throat a few times, slapped it, pinched his Adam's apple. He used every bit of willpower in him to stop the voice that was coming out of his mouth from being Eddie’s voice. It didn't stop that everything else was Eddie's though.

Eddie’s hair. His face. His body.

Steve was in his house—trailer, Steve recalled. It was a trailer. He was wearing his clothes. Sleeping in his bed.

Steve vaguely recalled the thing he thought last night when Eddie left Family Video.

A curse.

Eddie had put a curse on Steve. Steve had made Eddie pay non-member prices for his stupid video rental and Eddie put a fucking curse on him?!

There was a knock at the door and Steve jumped.

"Everything alright in there Ed?" a hoarse, muffled voice asked.

"Uhhh," Steve tried to come up with some kind of response, but suddenly all of the excuses he could ever come up with eluded him. Every scrap of knowledge he had ever reluctantly learned about Eddie Munson—thwip—gone.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to focus, get in the moment, clear his head. If this was a basketball game or a swim meet, he would never let himself get this worked up.

"I'm fine," he started and then paused.

Eddie's parents weren't around anymore, who did he live with? The kids had mentioned it once or twice, said the guy was nice, a little rough around the edges. Said he let Eddie do whatever he wanted for the most part. His uncle...

"I'm fine Uncle W-wayne," Steve answered.

"Late for school," Wayne sighed. "You skipping again?"

"I--"

Steve didn't know what kind of excuse to come up with. What kind of excuses did Eddie give his uncle? His attendance was abysmal, Steve knew, and on the days he was in class, his attention was barely there. Always scribbling and doodling and cracking jokes when he was called on to answer.

He should have just dropped out the first time he failed, a fact that Steve had mocked him for repeatedly, let alone this second time.

Fuck, but if Steve was stuck in Eddie's body, he couldn't not go to school. He had enough trouble with his high school diploma, let alone without one. Maybe...maybe he could ask Dustin to help with his—

Dustin.

That little brat would be at school. Of course. He and others...they were a part of this little cult...maybe they knew what Eddie did to him? Or they could help him at the very least figure out how to reverse this curse.

"Listen son," Wayne continued. "I know it's hard to do this all over again; I told you that you didn't—"

"No, it's ok," Steve quickly cut him off. "I just slept in...accidentally. I'll go. I'm late but I'll go."

"Alright, whatever you say. I got a fresh pot going for you but I'm gonna get cleaned up and hit the hay alright?"

"Sounds good," Steve replied absentmindedly, staring around the room trying to figure out what, in all of the piles of clothing and junk, he could wear.

"Steve Harrington."

Eddie rummaged through the products in the medicine cabinet. Shampoos and after shaves and hair gels and mousses. Way more interesting and expensive sounding than the bottom shelf stuff he got at Melvald's.

He had to be honest, some of it didn't smell great and he didn't see the appeal. Oh well.

"The name's Harrington, Steve Harrington."

He shuffled through the clothes in the closet and the dressed. A lot of trendy, Sears catalog-looking stuff. Polos and windbreakers and jeans in various shades of blue. All neatly hung and folded, nothing out of place, even the underwear drawer was pristine. Nothing black or ripped or...god forbid a band tee or something like that.

Eddie was gonna have to change that...eventually.

"Hey, uh, have we met before? I'm Steve, Steve Harrington."

After the initial shock of finding that he was, indeed, in Steve's body, a sort-of calmness washed over Eddie. The panic subsided pretty quickly, to be honest; he might have been full of electric, frantic energy that dared to be contained, but he was also very good at improvising and devising a plan thanks to years of DnD.

But what was the plan when you found yourself in someone else's body? There wasn't really a handbook for that but like any good player...he would just have to play the part until the answers were revealed to him. And that meant he would have to become Steve Harrington--know Steve Harrington--in a way that he would have loathed if he wasn't in this situation specifically.

The first step had been checking out what Steve was packing.

Eddie peeled away the tight purple briefs and stared at his dick.

"Alright Harrington, alright," Eddie bobbed his head from side to side in contemplation and then grinned ferally. "Mine's bigger." And with that he adjusted himself back in the underwear and continued on his exploration.

Clothes, shoes, books—or more accurately the lack thereof.

Jesus, how have I failed twice and he graduated?

He dug through drawers, found the stash of dirty magazines under the bed, and then scanned over the calendar neatly pinned above the desk with shifts at Family Video clearly penciled-in in a handwriting that looked way too nice to be Steve's.

Steve would be expected to open the store this morning and Eddie grimaced. It wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his day, but he had a part to play.

He grabbed the little green and orange vest hanging off the back of the desk chair and threw it on over the trendy striped polo that made him itch—did Steve have some kind of allergy or something? God, his chest and arms were just itchy, and it was driving Eddie nuts.

He headed downstairs, through the immaculate house that he vaguely knew the layout of having dealt at a party Steve held last year, to the kitchen to rummage for some kind of breakfast.

He had already checked upstairs and now again as he walked through; the house was empty. Steve's parents gone for the day.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he opened the fridge and found, among the very neat and plentiful groceries, a brown paper lunch bag with the name "Stevie" written on it with a little heart.

"Great," Eddie scoffed bitterly, the first really sour thought he’d had all morning. "His mommy still makes his lunches."

Eddie thought about the handwriting on the calendar upstairs; it was the same as the lunch bag. Thought about the neatly folded clothes, about the extremely tidy rooms. He knew Steve's mom didn't work; she didn't do much of anything except parade around town flaunting her perfect life.

And she was a real bitch.

She was on the Hawkins Town Council and the PTA. She was the first person to call Hellfire Club a cult when they had originally petitioned for some money from the PTA for shirts a few years back. She had called Eddie a menace too many times to count, periodically to his face if he parked a little too close to the front to her liking at Bradley's.

"And she makes her precious baby boy Stevie tuna salad sandwiches and ants on a log like he's 6," Eddie grumbled as he peeked inside the bag. He couldn't remember the last time someone made his lunch for him.

Well he could...in those early days with Wayne. They were both trying to navigate the new living arrangement after his mom had passed. He wasn't that great at peanut butter and jelly or carrot sticks...but he did teach Eddie that you could put potato chips inside of your sandwich though. Taught him how to make the best of a situation, to take care of himself.

So that's what he was going to do. He was gonna make the best out of this situation and play the part and get through the day. Because things were always good—life was always good—if you were Steve Harrington. And he was Steve Harrington now.

"And Steve Harrington," Eddie pushed past the bitterness and found a little spark of goodness. "Drives a BMW."

"Watch where you're going freak!" Someone grunted at Steve as they rammed their shoulder into his as they passed.

"When did everyone get so damn rude?" Steve grumbled to himself. It was the fifth person who had done that today. Hawkins High really had gone to the pits in the past few months since he graduated.

To be fair, everything had really sucked for him so far that day. He thought, Hawkins High was his stomping ground. Just put on the Harrington charm—despite the rough exterior—and everything would work out.

He was so wrong.

First he had gotten detention for being late to class, apparently for the third day that week—

God, Munson needed to get his act together; no wonder he hadn't graduated yet.

—then when he had tried to schmooze Mrs. Worth, the school secretary, into giving him Dustin's schedule, she laughed. And when he asked if he could have a copy of his own schedule, Eddie's schedule, she had just rolled her eyes and said,

"Trying every trick in the book to get out of classes, Edward. I can't help you unless you help yourself."

"How can I help myself if I don't have a schedule Jeanine?" he snarked, figuring Eddie's own signature shitty attitude would get him somewhere instead.

It only added an extra 15 minutes onto his detention.

Great.

Finally he managed to find the crumbled scrap of a class schedule in Eddie's locker—the only locker without a lock on it although he doubted anyone would want to steal from this absolute cesspit—amongst the piles of incomplete homework and garbage and overdue library books. It took everything in Steve not to rip it to pieces when he saw archaic symbols drawn all over it, no doubt another curse Eddie was waiting to enact on someone.

Steve just went through the motions and still got picked on and berated by every teacher and most of the students. Of course, Eddie fucking deserved everything he got. He was a lazy student and a menace, always causing some kind of trouble. But it made Steve especially grumbly that he would now have to deal with the fallout of Eddie's shit. Despite trying to adapt his own good behavior.

"Just gotta find Henderson and this will all have been some silly dream," Steve muttered to himself all day. And thankfully he had survived until lunch and immediately spotted Dustin and Mike as they sat down at the freaks' usual lunch table.

God he needed to get those kids away from Munson and his cult. Especially now that he knew what they could do.

He quickly crossed the busy cafeteria, uncaring of anyone he bumped into or the sharp words they spat at him.

"Henderson, we need to have a little chat," Steve announced as he reached the table. One of the older kids at the table—Steve tried to recall his name: Gary, Garth, Garrett—perked up at the sight of "Eddie" though and started chatting excitedly.

"Hey we were just talking about Hellfire tonight. I know you won't tell us anything but do we ne—”

"Hellfire's canceled," Steve dismissed coldly.

"What?!" They all started talking over one another.

"You never cancel Hellfire."

"Are you sick?"

"Guys he's dying. Or he's lost his mind."

Steve felt the annoyance bubble up inside of him and he raised his voice.

"It's canceled!" He leveled all of them with a scathing look. "I've got detention. Alright?"

"You always have detention," Mike spoke up, then cowered slightly as Steve glared at him. "Y-you've never canceled before..."

"Tough shit. Maybe next week." Steve turned his attention back to Dustin. "Let's go."

He grabbed Dustin by the arm, hauled him out of his seat, and pulled him out of the cafeteria.

As soon as the heavy double doors clicked shut behind them, Steve fell back against the wall and buried his face in his hands.

"Shit! Eddie!" Dustin's demeanor immediately went from fear to concern. "What's going on?"

"'m not Eddie," Steve groaned.

"What?"

"I'm not Eddie!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands out as if it would reveal who he actually was. "It's Steve, I'm Steve."

"O-ok?"

"I'm Steve and I woke up in Eddie's body and I don't know what's happening and I'm..." He started breathing heavily. "I'm so fucking pissed off and I'm so fucking scared."

"Hey listen man, I know," Dustin began hesitantly. "I know you keep telling us that the weed is not for freshman but if this is supposed to scare me—"

"This isn't to scare you," Steve grumbled, grabbing Dustin by the shoulders so he could pull him closer. "I'm not high. And I'm not Eddie. I'm Steve Harrington."

Dustin blinked at him.

"Ok..." he nodded slowly. "You're Steve Harrington? Tell me something only Steve and I would know."

Steve wracked his brain; there were a lot of things that he and Dustin shared, he was closer to Dustin than all of the other kids. But now, so was Eddie...so what was something that Eddie wouldn't know?

"Last year...last December..."

"Yeah?"

"The Snow Ball?"

"Ok?"

"I helped you with your hair...I told you my secret."

"Which was?"

Steve and Dustin stared each other down for a moment before Steve caved.

"Thefarrahfawcettspray," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"The Farrah Fawcett Spray, alright? I swore you to secrecy, I wouldn't tell anyone else, let alone Eddie Munson." He clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth.

"Son of a bitch!" Dustin hissed. "It really is you."

"I told you so, you little punk."

"What did...I mean..." Dustin clutched the bill of his cap with both hands and exhaled. "How?"

"I was hoping you could help me figure that out," Steve sighed. "And how to undo it."

"I think this is a little beyond my academic ability Steve."

"No, not just because you're smart. Because you hang around Munson. He's the one who did this to me."

"Wh-what?" Steve started talking a mile a minute and Dustin stopped him. "Ok, slow down. I'm gonna need you to start over. If you want me to help you, I need to know everything."

Steve spent the rest of lunch explaining everything to Dustin, from the interaction with Eddie at Family Video to feeling off last night during dinner and then waking up in Eddie's body this morning.

Dustin asked, what seemed to be, random questions. Like if he had remembered brushing his teeth the night before, if he’d had any indigestion, or if there were any scars that he had as Steve that might have appeared on "Eddie's" body instead.

"I wasn't exactly eager to check Eddie's body out," Steve scrunched his nose in dismissal.

"You didn't even take a shower or anything?" Dustin asked.

"I mean, no," Steve shrugged. "But now that I think of it...how am I gonna even be able to take a shower. Ugh, I don't want to touch Eddie's junk."

"Your junk," Dustin reminded him.

"Eddie's body," Steve insisted.

"And you're Eddie for the foreseeable future," Dustin shrugged. The bell signaling the end of the period rang and Dustin sighed. "Listen, I'm gonna skip next period and see if the school library has anything useful. But I'm not hopeful."

"Hey, you shouldn't skip class!" Steve argued.

"It's just Latin."

"Which you're failing."

"Skipping one class while you've literally had your mind transplanted into another body over night seems like the correct choice. I'll see you later." Dustin disappeared amongst the throngs of students and Steve sighed, resigned to go through the motions for the rest of the day.

It was a lot more of the same shit he'd gone through in the morning: getting body checked in the hall, having his books slapped out of his hand, teachers purposefully calling on him thinking he wasn't paying attention—even though he was, thank you very much. Although...considering that Eddie's notebooks were filled with doodles and poetry and shit...it wasn't a far stretch to believe that no, Eddie didn't actually pay any attention in class.

Steve actually had never had any classes with Eddie except for PE, really. And the fact that Eddie got into constant arguments with Coach should have been enough of an indicator of his poor academic performance as it was. But he’d based all of his assumptions on other factors. They hadn’t really interacted short of seeing him roaming the halls, the many few times Steve and his friends had mocked the Hellfire kids, even the one or two times Steve had gone up to Eddie himself to coerce him into dealing at a party.

He had always thought of Eddie as a thorn in everyone's side...but now being Eddie...

The bell rang signaling the end of the day and although Steve knew he had to get to the cafeteria for detention, he still went to find Dustin and see if he had any answers.

It wasn't a long search, Dustin was waiting by Eddie's locker looking...incredibly nervous.

"Anything?" Steve asked.

"The school library isn't well-stocked with occult books," Dustin sighed. "Best I could find was this, Mysteries of the Unknown, which I'm gonna read, I just don't think it's gonna help us out very much."

Steve groaned and covered his face with his hands.

This was just great.

“Listen, I’m gonna level with you this is…kind of outside of my expertise here Steve,” Dustin said hesitantly.

“But what about the cult stuff,” Steve asked, throwing his hands out. “You spend every Friday with Hellfire Club.”

“Playing a board game,” Dustin defended. “One that you could have learned by now if you just—”

“You’re telling me there aren’t any spells or...or something that could do this in your little game?"

"It's Dungeons and Dragons. Not Jumanji."

"...does that game maybe have a spell that—"

"No!"

"Well what about all of this shit Eddie has drawn in his notebooks, huh?" Steve fumbled to flip to one of the pages that had little symbols drawn in the corner. "What is this?"

"Probably something for a campaign. Maybe you should ask Eddie?" Steve froze and Dustin frowned. "You...have talked to Eddie about this right? You didn't just...come to school...without talking to Eddie, did you?"

Steve felt like an idiot. Of course Eddie would be in his body if he was in Eddie's. Eddie didn't just...banish Steve...he put a curse on both of them.

"Dustin Henderson, you are a genius." Steve pressed a kiss to Dustin's head, turned on his heel, and ran towards the door. Detention be damned.

"I'm not a genius, you're just an idiot!"

For all of the fears Eddie had about growing up—finally graduating, deciding if he should take some classes at the community college like the guidance counselor suggested ages ago, having to get a job or really throwing everything he had into making Corroded Coffin successful—he was honestly having a good time working at Family Video.

Steve always seemed a little bored and grumpy every time Eddie had stopped in. But it wasn't that bad if Eddie was being honest.

He'd been a little frantic at first, trying to figure out which key unlocked the door, and how to turn on the computer and open the cash register—thankfully there were little handwritten instructions taped under the keyboard—but once everything was up and running, it was a good time. He got to put a movie on—Star Wars, duh—easily chatted with some of the apparent-regulars who came by to make returns, even processed shipments of some new releases. It was a blast.

Eddie vaguely wondered, whenever he found himself back in his own body, if he should apply for a job here.

The bell above the door rang and Eddie turned, expecting to greet customers, only to be met with a fuming Robin Buckley.

Eddie didn’t know Robin very well, but what he did know he respected, if not outright liked. During his first senior year, she and a group of band nerds had gone up against Corroded Coffin in the last round of the Hawkins High Battle of the Bands. Now, he knew that the whole competition was rigged—Corroded Coffin had gotten second place despite being the best metal band in town—but she was pretty cool to shake their hands after the event was over. Tell them how good they were.

Of course, her band did a cover of "We Will Rock You" and "We are the Champions." Kind of cheating if you'd asked Eddie...but they did a pretty good job of it. He couldn't fault the student body for choosing that over the alleged Devil Worship music.

However, gone was the bashful Robin in his memory, and instead there she stood seemingly gearing up for a fight, with her sleeves rolled up and teeth gnashing together as she sneered.

"Forget something today dingus?" Robin asked "Steve" through clenched teeth.

"Uhhh," Eddie fumbled. "I don't kn—"

"Me! You forgot to pick me up for school," Robin exclaimed, hands thrown up in the air in exasperation. "You didn't even call? What gives?"

"I, uh," Eddie wracks his brain for an excuse. Because he didn't know he needed to? Because he wasn't actually Steve? "I accidentally overslept."

"And then I was worried about you," Robin rambled, running a hand through her bangs as she went on. "You could have...crashed into a pole, or...or...had a stroke and drove into a ditch."

"I'm sorry," Eddie offered with a half-smile.

"You better be! And your alarm better be set on Monday; I am not walking to school again," Robin grumbled as she headed to the back room to clock in. Eddie sighed in relief as the door shut behind her.

He really did feel bad about not picking her up for school. His friends were used to him skipping or just...sleeping late. If he wasn't at their houses to pick them up by a certain time, they knew they'd have to find another ride. Or just walk.

Gareth's mom was usually nice enough to give them rides on the days when Eddie didn't show.

But Robin...well, shit, Eddie knew Steve and Robin worked together...not only here but at Scoops Ahoy before this but damn, he didn't know Harrington was driving her to school. He must have been really good about picking her up every day if she was mad and worried.

"—and the thing is that I worried all day for nothing." Robin continued as she walked back onto the shop floor. "What if he's dead? What if his parents don't know? I think I failed my algebra test because of you so...just call next time ok?" She stared at him expectantly.

"Ok, I will," Eddie nodded. But Robin just narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms across her chest. "What?"

"What do you mean what?" she asked. "What are you still standing there for? It's almost 4."

"Oh!" Eddie checked his watch. "Is it? I guess...my shift is over right?"

She stared at him with a dumbfounded expression and then slammed her hands on the counter, making him jump.

"This is why you're single, this is why you can't find a girlfriend," she whined. "I don't even feel bad for you anymore. Not when you're screwing it up every step of the way. I really thought you were gonna get it right this time."

What was she talking about?

"How could you forget!?"

And in spectacular timing that Eddie could only have expected in a movie, the clock struck 4, the bell rang as the door opened, and you walked in for your date with Steve.

You were nervous.

Of course you were nervous, this was your third date with Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington. You sort of still didn't believe that he had asked you out.

You didn’t believe you were still going out with him.

It was just a random night that you'd run into Family Video to grab a movie before they closed. How easily he bantered with you, how he made you laugh, how he suggested Sixteen Candles of all movies for your study night with the girls from your classes at the Tri-County Community College.

He had made a joke when he looked up your mom’s membership…if the number on file was up-to-date so he could inform you of new releases…or just to ask you out.

You had giggled so stupidly after you left. He had called that night.

You'd always been sort of afraid of him during school. He was cute, sure, charming when he wanted to be...but he was popular and a jock and kind of a douche. You’d seen him pick on countless nerds.

He was King Steve, The "Hair" Harrington, whose dad owned the car dealership and had even run for Mayor once and was expected to run again. And you...you didn't have confidence issues really, but there wasn't anything really special about you either. You'd always held out hope that your silly high school crush would ask you out, so you never accepted any of the offers you had from any other boys.

But he never ended up asking you out, no matter how many signals you gave him, how much time you spent with him. How you wore the cutest outfits if you knew you’d partner with him in class.

And shy of some random drunken makeouts and one unfortunate hookup at some stupid party to get your first time “out of the way” (according to Julie Williams)…you stayed single.

Now you were out of the dregs of the high school hierarchy, sure, but you never expected Steve to ask you out. You weren't popular by any means...

But neither was Nancy Wheeler before Steve dated her.

Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler.

You couldn't get the name out of your head. Or more accurately, you couldn't get Steve saying her name out of your head. You hadn't even heard of her until they had started dating in your junior year; she was a year younger than you and Steve. Sweet, a little timid maybe. You thought they were cute together, always kind of near each other. Holding hands or kissing or laughing.

Nancy stood in the spotlight with Steve, and they spent enough time for him to become nicer and for her to become more confident. Confident enough to dump him about halfway through your senior year.

Rumors were afloat about King Steve losing his crown. That the new kid Billy Hargrove had taken it when the king was down on his luck. But Billy was an even bigger douchebag and you'd thought...well, Steve was the big man on campus, he would bounce back right? Surely once you graduated at least? He’d find his footing and move on?

And you thought he had. He’d stayed in town, gotten a job, went about his life like it was normal. Still drove around and charmed the town, asking girls out and whatnot. Asking you out.

Imagine your surprise when he mentioned Nancy on your first date. Coffee at that little bakery in the town square; he had ordered for you before you got there and you asked if it was his favorite or something.

"Well Nance always liked it so I figured you might."

And then again at the movies, he'd ordered you a cherry coke and Mike and Ikes. No popcorn.

"Nancy always complained about the kernels getting stuck in her teeth."

You were patient and you tried to be nice. But it created this constant, subconscious comparison to her that hit you every time you saw her around town. And she was always around.

And Steve…tried, he made sure the dates were nice, he called on the phone, asked you about your day, told you about his. You just knew you couldn’t…allow yourself to feel less than, even if Steve didn’t realize he was doing it to you.

So you decided you were gonna end things.

You'd gone to Family Video to tell him as much, to have a nice discussion, before heading to your shift at Benny's. But he was very sweet, unexpectedly so. Promised your third date would be something special. You'd both dress up. He'd take you out to dinner somewhere nice.

"You're gonna love this place," Steve had said, taking your hand in his. "Nance thought it was great when I took her there too."

Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler.

And at that moment you decided to just pull your hand away and tell him "I'm sorry Steve" and "you can’t keep bringing her up, it’s over."

Until you caught sight of Eddie Munson at the corner of your eye.

Your high school crush.

Who was funny and clever and silly and handsome and more. Who was everything you could kind of ever dream of. Who you got into a fight with your best friend over because she thought she had dibs since her brother was his friend. Whose name you scribbled in your notebook and almost died the one time he flipped through to copy your notes.

Who never saw you as more than a classmate.

And you decided...even if you were tired of playing second fiddle to Nancy…you had spent enough time waiting to be noticed by Eddie. All of high school and, you were ashamed to say it, even now after the fact.

You couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t pass upon another boy who actually noticed you just to keep waiting on Eddie.

So you told Steve that his idea was great and you went on your merry way.

You had convinced yourself that it could work out, that you could be Steve’s girlfriend if he asked, if he kissed you at the end of the night. You'd dressed up to go to class today, knowing that you wouldn't have time to change for the date after. Your friends had teased you about your date, about the fluffy tafetta dress you'd chosen, giggled along with you and inflated your confidence.

It was still a little bit of a shock when you walked into Family Video promptly at 4 only to find Robin standing in front of the counter with the most pitying, sympathetic look in her eyes. And Steve still behind it, looking like a deer in the headlights, still dressed in his casual work clothes, hair slightly disheveled.

Not prepared for your date at all.

Did he forget?

You shouldn’t have felt bad, really. You were meeting him after his shift. You knew that you didn’t always look or feel great after work. You should have given him the benefit of the doubt.

Or did he change his mind?

Because he talked the talk yesterday and you fell for it. You let your pride get the better of you and you should have just followed your instinct to end things.

That insidious voice in the back of your mind though…

Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler.

…told you that he realized you weren’t good enough.

"H-hey," you greeted sheepishly. Your throat got tight

“Say hi dumbass,” Robin muttered over her shoulder. “Steve was just telling me how excited he was for your date!”

“Really?”

And then…it felt like Steve was suddenly seeing you for the first time. Because Steve Harrington just had a way about him, right?. That cool, casual exterior. That easiness.

Looking at him now…his eyes were wider and brighter, his smile bigger, eager. It was a version of him that you hadn’t experienced.

Was this maybe what Nancy Wheeler saw when she looked at him…looking at her?

And now he was looking at you this way.

"I...I'm not late am I? Or too early maybe?" you asked, suddenly bashful under his gaze.

“No,” Steve shook his head. “You’re perfect.”

“Gross,” Robin gagged. “Ok get out of here before I vomit.”

Steve practically vaulted over the counter and disappeared into the back for a moment, then situated himself at your side upon his return.

“You ready to go?” He asked eagerly. You raised your eyebrows in question and glanced down at his outfit, still dressed the same, still wearing his Family Video vest even.

“Oh you…” you started and then stopped when his smile got even brighter. “Yeah let’s go.”

You were barely out the door when a familiar van skidded into the parking lot and came to a halt in the spot next to your car. Eddie jumped out of the driver's seat and slammed the door, before pointing at Steve with a manic look in his eyes.

“You!” Eddie shouted. “What did you do? How did you do this!?”

You immediately turned to Steve, whose eyes went wide for a moment before he smiled lazily, almost condescendingly.

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” Steve announced, holding his hands up innocently.

“I know you’re in there Eddie, you son of a bitch,” Eddie grumbled and practically lunged at Steve. Steve jumped a few steps back and you got between the two of them, hoping your presence would put Eddie at ease.

Wait…

Did he call Steve…Eddie? Did he call Steve by…his own name?

Was he high or something? You tried to rationalize it: The anger, the manic look in his eyes, the way his shoulders shook as he breathed heavily. It only made sense.

“Hey look at me,” you said gently. “It’s gonna be ok, you need to take a deep breath and calm down. You’re gonna be ok.”

“Stay out of this honey,” Eddie said through clenched teeth. “This is between me and him.”

“Steve, what’s going on?” You glance back at him for an answer.

“Nothi—” Steve began but Eddie quickly spoke over him.

“He put a curse on me, he put a curse on us,” Eddie heaved.

A curse?

“M-maybe you need a doctor or something,” you tried. “You aren’t making any sense.”

”He doesn’t need a doctor,” Steve called from behind you. “He’s a freak, a criminal. He needs to be locked up.”

Eddie froze and looked between you and Steve, fear suddenly in his eyes.

“Steve are you crazy?!” You turned and hissed at him, but by the time you turned back to Eddie, he was backing away and retreating into the van.

“This isn’t over,” he threatened, pointing at Steve through the window. “You’re gonna fix this.”

“Eddie wait!” The van backed out of its spot and sped back out of the parking lot. You sighed with worry. “Eddie.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve casually put a hand on your shoulder “Don’t worry about him.”

You turned on your heel and slapped his hand off you.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Eddie played the part perfectly...

"What the hell is wrong with you!?"

...or so he thought.

While he would never call anyone else a freak, standing and staring at his own face--despite the realization that Steve was in there--it was almost cathartic to yell those things at himself. To get a feel of what everyone else felt when they yelled those things at him. To not be on the receiving end of it for once.

Except you didn't seem to see it that way.

While Eddie had felt like he had hit the jackpot all day, being in Steve's body, he knew that he really came out ahead when you showed up for your date with him. The thought briefly crossed his mind...if he broke your heart as Steve...it might be a better chance for him to ask you out and for you to say yes.

But considering that he might possibly spend the rest of his life as Steve Harrington...having you was too good of a chance to pass up.

He would rather have you as Steve, knowing you would never care for him as Eddie, than lose you altogether.

Except that might be exactly what he had done as you stood there glaring at him.

"W-what?" He asked nervously.

"Are you kidding me right now?" you exclaimed. "He...there was clearly something wrong with him. How could you say those things? How could you call him those names? And then he...he left...what if he gets hurt?"

"What do you care about Eddie Munson?" he scoffed.

"He's my friend!"

Fuck.

Hearing that made his heart ache in his chest. He was a friend. Yeah. Just a friend. Which is why...if he wanted to salvage this, he would have to think quickly.

"I just...you're right," he explained, holding his hands out defensively. "He looked like...there was something wrong. And you were so quick to jump in the way...what if he hurt you?"

"He wouldn't!"

"I was worried."

"He wouldn't have hurt me."

"Listen to me," he soothed and approached you carefully in case you lashed out again. "I...I care about you, honey. I don't want to see you hurt. And Eddie...definitely looked like he was ready to hurt someone. I needed to get him away from you."

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a moment, pulling at your fingers nervously as you contemplated his excuse.

"Alright," you finally nodded. "I understand."

"You do?" he asked.

"Yeah," you sighed. "But please...please don't do that again. Don't call Eddie a freak. He's my friend and he deserves better than that."

Eddie's throat got tight, wanting to scream--

It's me. I'm Eddie. I'm in here.

--instead he took a few steps closer and folded you into a hug. You shook for a second, and god damn did he feel like he was on the verge of shaking too.

He needed a distraction.

"So...how about that date huh?" He questioned after a few moments of savoring the feel of you in his arms. "You ready to go."

"Sure," you pulled back and gave him a small smile. "Where are we going?"

Eddie, of course, had no idea where Steve had planned to take you. His mommy didn't mark dates in his calendar like she did his work schedule. So he simply decided to make something up on the spot. One of his favorite places.

He simply told you it was a surprise and led you to Steve's BMW, opening the door for you like a gentleman should, before he got you both on the way.

His fingers fidgeted on the steering wheel as he drove. He debated asking you questions, but decided against it on the off chance that they were things Steve had already on your first two dates. And the music that Steve had in the car was abysmal and wouldn't do anything to calm Eddie's nerves.

You seemed content to stare out the window as he drove though, still fidgeting with your fingers as the drab scenery passed by once he got onto old highway 77.

A few miles past Starcourt sat "Stoney Creek Adventure Center," boasting a halfway decent arcade and two miniature golf courses. With all of the new amusements in and around Hawkins, it wasn't as busy as it was the few times his mom and Rick had taken him when he was a kid. But it was still pretty lively on a Friday night: some families with younger kids, a couple of teens who snuck into the windmill to get high and make out.

Eddie escorted you out of the car and watched as you stared at the half-faded turf and oversized obstacles.

"So?" he asked, hands on his hips. "What do you think?"

Your hesitation to answer made his throat tight again.

What if this wasn't a Steve Harrington-calibur date?

"Uh..." you paused and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. "This is the place you took Nancy Wheeler? You said...you were taking me someplace she really liked."

Alright, time to make it or break it.

"I just thought you might like something different," he shrugged. "I thought...I've been bringing up Nancy a little too much. I want to enjoy new things. With you."

The way your gaze softened and you smiled at him...yeah, he was really fixing all of Harrington's fuck-ups. Give you everything you deserved.

"Oh, that's...yeah, that's really sweet," you giggled. "I...I didn't want to say anything...I know she was important to you. But I was actually starting to feel like--"

"Hey, listen," he interrupted you, knowing what you were going to say next...feeling a little smug that he was right. "The past is the past. I'm sorry I made you feel like you were playing second fiddle to Nancy."

"You really did," you confirmed.

"But I really like you," Eddie admitted, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders as the words escaped him. Even though the voice he said them with was not his own. "I want you to feel important too. Ok?"

"Ok," you agreed, lips pursed and nose scrunched as you obviously fought a smile.

"Alright then, let's get to putting," he clapped his hands together and started walking towards the arcade to pay for your rounds of golf.

He stopped, however, as you grabbed him by the arm.

"Don't you think I'm a little overdressed?" you asked bashfully, gesturing down at yourself. "You told me we were going someplace nice."

He placed a hand over his heart and acted wounded.

"You're saying mini golf isn't nice?" he whimpered.

"No, it's perfect, I just..." you shrugged. "I don't know, I think...I don't even have a jacket or anything."

"Well tell you what," he said and peeled his Family Video vest from his shoulders. "As long as you don't tell Keith that I made you a temporary employee for the night--that's what this means you know, so don't take it lightly--you can wear my vest."

You didn't fight the smile this time, it beamed brightly in the golden afternoon light. You put the vest on and did a little turn, modeling it for him, looking slightly ridiculous with your fancy dress and the stupid green and orange vest.

What Eddie wouldn't have done right then to have his battle vest instead right then. To make you look like you were his girl and not Steve's.

"Beautiful," he told you truthfully. "Now you ready to lose? I happen to be a mini golf champion."

"In your dreams," you scoffed.

No...not in his dreams anymore...

At the end of the night, well past it getting dark, Steve drove you back to the strip mall parking lot for you to get your car and head home. But it felt no less romantic than it would have been if he was actually dropping you off at home and you were chatting on your porch before you went inside.

“I really did have a great time tonight,” you told him honestly. It felt like a cliché, like something from a tv show. But...despite the rocky start, you did have a great time and it was absolutely nothing you expected from Steve of all people, especially not after those first two dates. After all of the things you had doubted.

You had played both of the miniature golf courses, sat at the little picnic benches and shared a basket of half-soggy fries with ice cream cones--yours strawberry, his a chocolate-vanilla swirl--and chatted about your classes, and then ended the night beating the high score on Space Invaders.

Maybe things were looking up after all. Maybe you were right to give him this last chance.

“It was kind of perfect," you continued. "Thank you.”

“Well, what can I say?” Steve beamed. “I’m full of good ideas, when I’m inspired to have them.”

“And I, um, inspired you?” You asked hesitantly.

“You have no idea,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t even believe what was going on in here even if I told you.” He tapped his forehead a few times.

You reached up and rapped your knuckles on the side of his head the way you would a watermelon to see if it was ripe.

“I dunno, sounds kind of hollow to me—Steve!!” He grabbed you around the middle and started tickling you. You yelped and giggled as his fingers relentlessly tapped and pinched at your sides. “Stop it.”

“Sorry, honey, I told you I was full of ideas,” he pouted playfully but didn’t let up. “You just looked awful ticklish; it inspired me.”

“I can’t,” you laughed. “I can’t breathe.”

“I guess I can stop,” Steve sighed, the tickling letting up for a moment. His hands stilled on your waist as you caught your breath and he inched closer. “I think I’m inspired by something else now, to be completely honest with you.”

And then he did a thing--something he had been doing all night--he was looking at you like he couldn’t really believe you were there with him. His eyes were sparkling and happy. His smile wasn’t the…signature smooth Harrington smile that you’d grown accustomed to the last few dates. It was wider, easier.

“Y-yeah?” You whispered. “What’s that?”

He leaned in closer, rubbed his nose against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you exhaled softly.

"C-can I," he whispered, soft enough that you could barely hear him. "Can I kiss you, honey?"

"Y-yeah," you agreed just as softly. He hummed but didn't make another move, choosing to continue giving you such soft attention. It made your heart melt.

"You sure?"

"Please," you keened.

He let out a soft chuckle and pressed his lips to yours and you sighed.

If was all of the tender softness you deserved, but never knew in the fast, hormone-and-alcohol driven kisses you had experienced in high school. However few. You were simply surrounded by him.

His touch--his soft lips molding to yours, pressing, and his hands on your waist, pulling--constant and pleading for more but never pushing. His scent that invaded your senses--sharp and citrusy and fresh, like a summer's day. His sounds, that simple...constant little hum as the seconds ticked by.

He was everywhere and everything.

But...

You thought about Eddie earlier that day, the striking, wild look in his eye. So different from the Eddie you were used to, the Eddie you cared about, the Eddie your heart beat for over the past 5 years. You were worried about him, yes, but one thought occupied your mind.

How would Eddie have kissed you?

Your heart stung when Steve pulled away and you blinked back the burning in the back of your eyes.

You couldn't entertain those thoughts, not when Steve was standing right in front of you, after he had just kissed you so perfectly, and looked at you as if you were the only thing that could ever make him happy.

“G’night honey,” he murmured.

“Goodnight,” you whispered guiltily. "Goodnight Steve."

Eddie made it back to the Harrington's house with a big smile on his face.

He could do this forever if he had to.

Live in Steve's body, go to work at Steve's job, drive Steve's car, kiss Steve's girlfriend.

He'd been partially wondering on his drive back to the house--

Between the long, sweet moments of recalling your kiss.

--if this was, perhaps, some kind of karmic reward for all of the shit life had handed to him. A terrible father, a dead mother, a short attention span, and the entire town voicing their opinion that he was some dirty, rotten, trailer park freak. And then on the contrary, Steve--who had been given everything he never asked for and was an ungrateful shit--could have some karma as well.

As he made it up the stairs--the stairs, Eddie still couldn't believe it--to his new bedroom, Eddie thought about Wayne and did feel a little guilt. He definitely suffered just as Eddie did, maybe more so, simply for the fact that he had to put up with Eddie for 10 years and now would have to put up with Steve too. Eddie's stomach turned when he thought of all the things he did just to take something off Wayne's plate. Repairs around the trailer, grocery shopping and "making dinner" (which was usually code for some kind of takeout when he was too lazy to pop some frozen pizza in the oven). Not to mention the extra cash he made dealing...would Steve do those things now that they were stuck like this?

Where was Wayne's karmic reward?

There were so many things Wayne sacrificed for Eddie. And Eddie knew and did everything he could to give back to his uncle, as much as his uncle would let him. Now with this situation with Steve, he had to do a little more to lift what would end up being an additional weight off of his uncle's shoulders.

Maybe...

Maybe "Steve" could convince Mr. Harrington to offer Wayne some better, cushier job at the car dealership? So he wouldn't have to suffer as much as he did at the plant. He definitely deserved more, but this was the first thing Eddie could think of off the top of his head. After a few months it might be a new car, or some...help with a down payment on an actual house...or at the very least, a larger trailer so that he could have his own bedroom instead of that fold-out bed.

Yeah, that was it. He would think about how he would bring it up next time he saw good ol' Pa Harrington...but since the house was still empty almost 14 hours after Steve's parents apparently left for work that morning, it might not be any time soon...

Eddie opened the door to the bedroom--momentarily dismissing his thoughts of Wayne to consider if he should get some posters to cover the pretentious plaid-papered walls--only to find the light on and his own face staring back at him, scowling, as Steve sat propped against the headboard of the bed.

Eddie hesitated in the doorway, stunned.

“I told you this wasn't over, Freak."

Fuck.

Tag List: @luna-munson83 @kaitebugg03 @invaderzia1 @delusionalbabe @secretdryrose @eddiesguitarskills @simplyundeniable98 @imaslutforcuddles @hanobe8

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #Eddie munson imagine #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve harrington fic #Steve harrington x reader #Freaky Friday AU

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