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rip-quizilla · 10 months

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Eat Me

Pairing: Older!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Reader

Summary: (TLDR: you perform with Corroded Coffin, act like a brat the whole time, and Eddie makes you pay for it.) Two years after your hiatus from the music industry, you're back and all grown up now. After collaborating with early 2000's metal sensation Corroded Coffin for several songs off your new album, you debut the new tracks live in a surprise performance with the band during their tour- and the tension between you and frontman Eddie Munson is so thick, you're barely able to keep your pants on throughout the set. (Songs referenced are by Demi Lovato from her album HOLY FVCK, which inspired this fic. I highly suggest listening to the songs "Eat Me" and "Freak" while they're performed in the story for the complete experience!)

Word Count: 14K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, age gap (reader is 27, Eddie is 47), Reader is a brat (Eddie can handle it), fingering, squirting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap up!!), light degradation, reader has blue hair, reader is a grown-up child star, for the purposes of this fic Corroded Coffin started in the 90s instead of 80s for timeline reasons

🖤🖤🖤

You had no fucking clue what you were doing.

It had been two years since you’d put out music. Two. Years. That’s enough time for a person’s relevance to crawl into a hole and die, which is something you had been strongly considering doing for the duration of those two years.

It was a tale as old as time- child star grows up. Child star is not a child anymore, but the world only wants the star to be a child, so if the star wants to keep being a star, they do not. grow. up.

But you grew up, and guess what happened?

The world hated you for it.

So you stopped trying to be a star. You’d dropped off the face of the earth and deleted every social media app from your phone. You’d bought a house in the mountains, and thanks to modern technologies like Amazon and DoorDash, you basically never had to leave. It was a little scary how easily you had become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods. Your life quickly became a never ending cycle of reading, binge-watching tv, and dying/cutting your hair whenever the mood struck (The latest spontaneous color change had left you with a surprisingly pretty shade of faded blue).

It was easy, running away… until it caught up with you.

After all, at your core you had always been a performer. From your first audition at five years old to your big break at twelve, to the first album you’d put out on your television network’s record label- you had always been a person who had something to say and craved an audience to hear it. When your audience had turned on you, it had jolted your rhythm enough that you forgot the words to a song you’d been singing as long as you could remember.

It had taken you a couple years, but eventually you figured out that when you play the same song on repeat for long enough, it gets old.

So you wrote a new song.

To be more precise, you wrote a whole album. Literally.

Some of the songs were composed, some still needed a tune, but the message of the album was clear: I’m not that little girl on your TV screen anymore. You don’t have to like it, but you sure as hell can’t change it.

The minute you’d figured that out, you’d called your team. Once they understood the direction your career was headed, they helped get everything in order for your re-entry into the fray that had driven you out in the first place.

There was only one part of the album that made you nervous.

I know two years doesn’t seem like that long, your agent had said, but the public eye doesn’t have a very impressive attention span. You only have half of the album composed, right? This is the perfect opportunity to make the other half of the songs collaborations with artists that are in the public eye!

The idea made sense. Their popularity helps you, and if the songs go over well, then it helps the other artists too. The only issue was that these songs were way more vulnerable than what you used to write… hell, half the songs you’d recorded before your hiatus were written by whatever run of the mill joe schmo had gotten the kid-friendly execs’ stamp of approval. Even when you’d split from the network after turning twenty-three, you’d kept your songs strictly PG-rated since you knew the majority of your audience were minors. These new songs, though…

You weren’t an idiot. The themes of these songs were not subtle. Anyone who listened to these new songs was going to see a side of you that wasn’t all that pretty. Were you ready for that? Were you ready to bare that darkness to not only the world, but to other artists who meant to help you make music out of it?

Your anxiety about the album had gotten even worse when your agent had given you the list of potential collaborators.

One song that you were particularly proud of called “Eat Me” had some very metal undertones to it, so you’d told your agent that you’d like to collaborate with a metal band or artist to compose the music that would match the lyrics. Almost immediately, your agent had suggested a collaboration with Corroded Coffin.

The band had been HUGE when you were a kid, topping charts throughout your childhood and making a name for themselves as one of the most culturally relevant turn-of-the-century metal bands. Even now, they were a household name. Your older brother had been a huge fan, so you’d actually listened to their music quite a lot growing up. They weren’t some random collaboration- if Corroded Coffin read your lyrics (which were basically your soul laid out on display) and thought they were shit? It might just send you spiraling right back to your cabin in the mountains.

You had been equal parts thrilled and terrified when your agent told you they’d agreed to collaborate on the song.

Currently, you were sitting in your home-away-from-home, a cozy apartment that you rented on a month-to-month basis whenever you needed to be in New York, which just so happened to be where Eddie Munson, lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin had asked to meet with you. It was your album, so you had invited him to come to your place and discuss his ideas for the song. You shifted nervously on your couch and glanced at the time on your phone. He was ten minutes late- that shouldn’t bother you, a lot of musicians had a habit of running late. Just because you didn’t subscribe to that stereotype didn’t mean you had to judge him for doing the opposite.

When you finally heard the buzz of your doorbell, you practically hopped off the couch. You peeped through the little door viewer to catch a glimpse before you had to look one of your childhood heroes in the eye. You… you hadn’t been adequately prepared to see this.

Eddie Munson had been attractive in his hay day- you could admit that. You’d seen the pictures of him on their album covers, the press photos, the magazines… he had always been cute in a scruffy sort of way. You hadn’t bothered Googling what he looked like now, which you were currently regretting since you had not been adequately prepared for the father of all DILFs to be standing on your doorstep.

After doing some quick math, you came to the conclusion that Eddie Munson must be in his mid to late forties at this point. His hair was still long and curly and thick as hell, but you noticed other details that you distinctly remembered were not present on the album covers you remember from your brother’s CD collection- dark, whiskery shadow along his cheeks and jawline. Tattoos creeping up from the collar of the crew neck shirt he wore, as well as every inch of his arms. A nose ring. Smile lines. Soft creases forming between thick brown eyebrows.

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you weren’t opening the door.

Shit. You inhaled sharply and hastily made to open the door. Breathe, you instructed yourself, taking a moment to blow out a semi-relaxing breath before turning the doorknob and plastering on your best entertainment industry smile.

“Hi!” you said, a little too peppy- you knew you sounded too peppy because the rockstar in front of you actually flinched when your high-pitched sorority girl voice slapped him in the face. “Sorry, I think I’m a little caffeine-riddled, I just finished my third cup of coffee.” You said apologetically, swinging the door open wider for him to step through the threshold into your apartment.

“Too many frappuccinos there, huh popstar?” His voice… if it hadn’t been so condescending, you might have melted on the spot. Your pride, however, had to argue with your clenching thighs.

“Uhm, no-” you laughed, keeping your voice airy as you shut the door and leaned back on it to ensure it was closed. “-just cold brew, rockstar.” You couldn’t help but add that quip at the end, seeing how he had just called you popstar like it was the same as calling someone a pussy or a wimp. What was his deal?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, and then turned back as if you hadn’t said anything at all. He simply sauntered through the hallway to your living room, where you had laid all the necessary materials for your composing process across the coffee table- but he wasn’t looking at that. He seemed to be inspecting your walls, the decor, the old pictures that sat in frames on your floating shelves, the records you had displayed above your turntable. His eyes surveyed everything like he was a judge at a fucking science fair, and your heart was starting to race as you started to irrationally wonder if you fell short of his expectations or something.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get his attention.

He turned to face you, irritation flashing across his expression like a cloud blowing past the sun. You took a breath. Calm down, you chided yourself mentally, he’s probably just a prick, don’t take it personally. Be professional.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You chirped politely, to which he smirked and shook his head.

“Don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart.”

You bristled; sweetheart? Who did he think he was, Don Draper? Was this the 1950’s? Were you his fucking secretary? Your blood pressure rose by the second.

“Hm.” you respond, chewing your lip to keep a snarky response to yourself. “Well, we can go ahead and get started if you want.” You gestured to the pages strewn across the coffee table. Notebook pages with your lyrics written out in black pen, empty pages of sheet music that you planned to fill out with a melody to coincide with your words as the morning went on. Your acoustic guitar sat securely in its stand beside the couch, eagerly awaiting your hands to make the message in your music come alive.

Munson sunk into the cushions of your leather couch, manspreading enough to make you feel like a guest in your own apartment. His forearms rested on the thighs of his ripped charcoal jeans as he surveyed the pages before him. He grabbed the notebook page full of lyrics first, chuckling when he saw the title.

“Eat Me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and the way he was holding the page between the two of you left only the top half of his face visible from where you sat. You noted that Eddie Munson had extremely expressive eyes. “That’s a pretty evocative title for such a squeaky-clean ‘lil diva.”

Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of the point.” Using your pointer finger to pull the page down, the bottom half of the rockstar’s face coming into view and spiking your blood pressure again when you saw that fucking smirk still on his face.

That’s it. This guy is an ass.

“Maybe my agent didn’t accurately portray my vision for this album,” you said, struggling to grit out the words without coming across angry. “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry we got our wires crossed.”

Ready to listen, Munson leaned back into your couch and crossed one booted foot over his knee, an arm thrown across the top of your couch cushions. The picture of nonchalance.

Cocky bastard.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I haven’t put any music out in over two years.” you began. “This isn’t just a new album for me- it's more like a debut album for the new direction I want to take my career in. Up until now, I’ve been portraying a very different side of myself that…if I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me. It was childish and immature and I…”

You huffed out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep being a kid, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old, for god’s sake.” the rockstar’s eyebrows jumped up at hearing your expletive, obviously amused.

What the fuck? Here you were, being vulnerable with a complete stranger, and he thought it was amusing? You half expected him to laugh, but you brushed past it and decided to ignore this asshole being even more of an asshole.

“What I’m trying to say is this is a very personal album for me. It’s very different from what I’ve been putting out, and that is very much the point. Does that make sense?”

You watched as he slowly nodded his head, mulling over your words. “So…it’s like a coming of age thing?” he ventured, “Like, ‘little girl’s all grown up and sexy now’ all that?” his mouth turned up at one corner. “How very Miley Cyrus of you, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, physically recoiling a bit. “Are you being serious right now?” you balked.

He shrugged.

Oh, you fumed, that is it. Fuck this guy.

You stood from the couch, finally snapping after holding yourself back from giving this asshat a piece of your mind. “What is your problem?” Munson’s smirk faded a bit, but his smug air remained intact as he stared up at you.

“Look sweetheart-”

“No.” you cut him off, stopping him with a hand in the air. “Stop calling me sweetheart like you know me or like that isn’t a condescending fucking way to speak to someone. You have done nothing but talk down to me since you walked through that door, so no, you do not get to talk to me like that, I don’t care how famous you are.”

There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face now, and you took pride in that. Maybe there was a conscience in there somewhere that was telling him I told you so right now.

You took the page from his hands and held it up for emphasis. “If you had just read my fucking song before making assumptions, then maybe you would have understood that this song is actually a social commentary on people like you who assume the direct trajectory of a child star’s career is to go from cute and childish to sexy ‘girls gone wild’ or whatever the fuck.” you spat, practically shaking the paper in your hand. “I’m allowed to grow into whoever I damn well please, and that’s exactly what this song is about. If I want to write a song about sex- and I’ve written a few, they’re on the fucking album- I’ll write them because that’s what I want to write! I’m not doing it for shock value or because I like attention; hell, I’ve been a literal hermit in the woods for two years, I don’t give a fuck about attention!”

You finally paused to breathe, and you knew your eyes must look absolutely insane because the man before you genuinely looked terrified.

Steeling yourself, you inhaled and exhaled slowly, attempting to push down some of that hysteria. “Sorry.” you bit, “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s just… this song is a part of me, and you just belittled it without even reading past the title.” You looked him directly in those big brown eyes and thought- hoped- for a second that you saw understanding in his gaze. “That was shitty. I’m not letting other people make me feel like shit anymore.”

When you were finished, silence took over. It settled over the room like a reprieve from a short but heavy rainfall before the sun showed itself again. Suddenly, Eddie Munson stood from your couch and marched to your door, letting himself out with a sharp click of your doorknob latching closed.

Okay. That went well. The lead singer of one of the most famous metal bands just came to your apartment, got yelled at, and ran away. You were just starting to ponder how you would explain this one to your publicist before you heard a knock at your door. Tentatively, you opened it- you didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was.

Eddie Munson stood at your door wearing an expression that you hadn’t seen yet today- he looked open, compassionate, and sorry. One hand in his pocket with the other outstretched, tattoos winding up the expanse of skin, rings glinting light from the sconces on either side of your door. He was offering his hand.

Smiling slightly, you accepted his gesture. You grasped his ink-scarred hand, feeling the cold metal of his rings press against your skin as you shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you-” he said your name softly, and you realized that when he had entered your apartment earlier, you hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries. Hadn’t introduced yourselves, almost as if fame got rid of the need for normal human introductions. Now, here he was, remedying that.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” you said, voice less chipper than it had been when the two of you originally stood in these same spots. “I’m a huge fan.”

He winced at ‘Mr.’, clapping his other hand over yours tightly. “Please, for the love of god, don’t call me Mr. Munson.” his big brown eyes pleaded with you. “Call me Eddie.”

Your smile widened as you nodded. “Eddie.” you repeated. “Is this you telling me we’re starting over?”

He let go of your hand, and you felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his skin left yours. “If that’s alright with you?” he replied softly, turning up the end of his sentence like a question.

Instead of saying yes, you simply stepped back to make room for him in your hallway. With a pleasant grin on your lips, you gestured for him to step inside. “Let’s get started, then.”

After sitting down on the couch once more, Eddie took the sheet of notebook paper on which you’d scrawled a part of your soul written in verse and began to read intently. Leaving him to digest the song completely (also because you felt awkward sitting there in silence as he read your work) you left to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. When you returned, he had already grabbed a fresh sheet of notebook paper and begun jotting down notes.

You placed the bottles on coasters, bracing yourself for the criticism that you knew was coming-

“You were right.”

Huh?

You craned your neck to see what he had written on the notebook paper. “About what?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Eddie yanked the paper out of your line of sight. “About this song, it’s completely different from what I’d assumed you would write. Actually,” he grinned. “-it’s kinda fucking metal.”

You smiled, once again reaching for the page. “Then let me see what you wrote-”

“I’m not finished yet, keep your panties on.”

The two of you worked for hours that afternoon, Eddie suggesting lines and chords as you wrote corresponding notes and chords on your sheet music. It didn’t take long for you to grab the acoustic guitar and begin strumming out portions of the song until it was finished.

Both of you agreed it was something to be proud of.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie stuttered before exiting your apartment that evening, when you were both happy with the work you’d done for the day. “I hope you know how sorry I am for being such an ass when I got here earlier-”

You shrugged, any traces of anger melted away at this point. “Eh.” you smirked. “You made up for it. That song might be my favorite on the album now, honestly, I meant it when I said I was a fan of yours- wouldn’t have trusted it with anyone else.”

He smiled at you warmly. “I’m honored to have such a talented fan.” The door was open, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, Eddie stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest leaning his weight to one shoulder against the doorway. “I mean it though, you’re a talented songwriter. If you want to collaborate on any other songs, just say the word and I’m back here.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, “Dead serious.”

Smiling excitedly, you ran to your notebook, flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for. You looked up at Eddie, a knowing grin on your lips. “Remember those songs about sex I mentioned?”

***

The original plan for your album had been to collaborate with multiple artists for about fifty percent of your album, while the other fifty percent would only feature you. What ended up happening was slightly different.

The more songs Eddie saw, the more passionate he became about the message you were working to convey through your lyrics. He ended up reworking every single song with you in a completely collaborative process, where he never overstepped, never tried to take over- simply understood what you were trying to say and added the extra ‘oomph’ each song had been needing to truly become what you had envisioned.

“I feel like I really can’t just call this my album now, Eddie, you’ve contributed way more to this to just be credited as a featured artist-”

You’d first voiced concerns about how to credit Eddie in the album a few days into your songwriting spree. It became an easy routine, Eddie would come over first thing in the morning, and the two of you would sit in your living room working through your songs and ordering takeout until the sun set.

“Well it’s not a collaboration album with Corroded Coffin,” Eddie had replied, sticking a bite of noodles into his mouth. The two of you had been seated at your kitchen table, white boxes of Chinese food, napkins, and torn chopstick wrappers decorating the space between you. “Those fuckers haven’t even met you, they don’t get credit for anything they ain’t playing on.”

“But I’m talking about you.” you pushed, “If we keep going the way we’ve been, you’re going to be a vital part of the composition for every track on this album! I’m not going to let you avoid credit for that.” you gazed at him, unable to hide the admiration you’d begun to feel for the artist at your table. “Let me list you as a composer for every track you help me with. We already know you and your band will be featured on Eat Me and Freak, so obviously you’ll be credited for those…”

As you continued to ramble on about how Eddie would be credited for each and every song lyric he suggested, he got distracted looking at the way your hair glinted slightly different shades of blue in the sunlight that filtered in through your balcony window. His eyes followed the light along your skin, taking in the way it glistened off the dewey shine on your cheekbone, how it shone directly into the corner of your eye so that colors he had never noticed were brought to the surface of your irises…

This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had gotten distracted watching you rant about something you were passionate about. He knew he was supposed to be listening, that it was very important that he knew what your songs were about, that he understood the details of your plans for the album so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself later- but dammit, you were just so pretty. Really fucking pretty, it was hard for him not to get distracted. Initially, this whole collaboration had just been something that Eddie’s publicist had suggested for getting the newer generation listening to Corroded Coffin in time for their new album to drop at the end of the summerl, so when Eddie had first waltzed into your apartment he’d been expecting a kid; an innocent, teeny-bopper sort of persona. He hadn’t expected a loud, firecracker of a woman with hair the color of his old denim jacket.

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware that he was old enough to be your father. You were what- twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Definitely under thirty. And here he was, pushing forty-seven with a salt and pepper shadow on his jawline. The hair on his head hadn’t started graying yet (he dreaded the day that he would have to use *gulp* hair dye) but he knew it was only a matter of time. For him to be ogling you like this? It would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew how often his eyes forgot to look away when you left the room. What was that old saying? Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave-

“Eddie?”

Shit. He’d missed an entire conversation, hadn’t he?

He gave you his best apologetic smile, which didn’t work at all. You sighed, hanging your head low exasperatedly. “You didn’t hear a word of that did you?”

“Not a word, zoned out.”

You threw a fortune cookie at him.

***

You and Eddie didn’t see each other for a while after recording the album. Eddie was there with the rest of Corroded Coffin to record the two tracks that they were featured in for the album, but after that plus a few guitar parts Eddie had been kind enough to record for some other songs, the two of you hadn’t had a reason to see each other.

That was why you were so nervous for tonight.

After working all summer and the better part of the fall, the album was finally finished. Copies of CDs and special edition vinyl were already being shipped out to music stores across the country and set to hit shelves in a week, so tonight was the kickoff event for your publicity tour: you would be joining Corroded Coffin tonight onstage for a surprise performance of Eat Me and Freak. Tonight was October 31st, and premiering those songs on Halloween with the metal king that helped you make them the masterpieces they were? This was just one of those moments when the stars aligned poetically.

You looked yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before heading to sound check. It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Eddie, but that wouldn’t matter, right? You’d spent a whole week workshopping incredibly personal- in some cases, intimately personal- songs with the guy, so singing onstage with him shouldn’t be a big deal. You were a professional, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t performed in over two years, you could do this. Never mind the fact that this was the first performance of the rest of your career; never mind that sometimes the way Eddie looked at you make you feel like your knees were about to buckle; never mind that Eddie Munson, rock god and sex symbol of the metal world, was going to be within touching distance the moment you set foot on that stage…

A knock at the door of your tiny dressing room startled you, along with a voice letting you know that sound check was about to begin. Decisively, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the stage before you could psych yourself out any more.

When you got to the stage, Eddie was the first person you laid eyes on. He smiled at you, dark curls flying around his face and forming a sinful-looking halo around his face as he gave you a friendly nod- god, he was gorgeous. Waving back at him, you returned the nod and grinned. You wouldn’t be going on until the end of their set, so you situated yourself on an empty stool backstage with a view of the band.

Their practice was fascinating to watch, how all four of the band members were so obviously masters of their craft, each ear trained to notice any imperfection in the way their instruments sounded through the stereos. Every once in a while, Eddie would look your way out the corner of his eye, just to check if you were still watching; you always were. Whenever he saw you looking directly at him, never glancing down at your phone or at the other band members (besides the odd look thrown in Gareth Emerson’s direction; the way his curls bounced was honestly hypnotic), he’d hold your eye contact, smirk into the microphone, and continue to belt out the lyrics to his songs with a smidge more cockiness than he had been prior.

When the time finally came for you to join them, you took a deep breath and strutted to where Eddie stood in the center of the stage. No one had handed you a mic, so you weren’t sure where you were supposed to stand until Eddie moved aside to make room for you at his mic stand.

You looked questioningly at Eddie. “You don’t need your mic?”

He chuckled, placing a hand on the small of your back as he put his lips to your ear. You figured he was just trying to avoid the mic picking up his voice, but the hand on your back… that was new. Was this a move? Was Eddie Munson making a move? On you?

Oh.

That’s a fun development.

“This one’s all you, darlin’.” Eddie said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ll stay out of your way. Also-” He pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, and your lips must have been a little too close to the mic because it picked up your fucking gasp. You jerked your head away from the mic, cursing yourself for being so nervous.

Eddie definitely noticed, but all he did was chuckle, still staring at you with giant doe eyes framed by smile lines and bushy brown eyebrows. “-it’s good to see you, popstar.” There was no condescension in his tone this time; all you could find in his gaze was kind, genuine joy that you were here, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Confidently, you gripped the mic with both hands, smirking at Eddie through your side eye. You didn’t bother leaning away from the mic when you replied, sprinkling sultry into your voice. If Eddie Munson was trying to drop a hint, you wanted him to know you were receiving it.

“It’s good to see you too, rockstar.”

***

Mic check went flawlessly, which meant it was time for you and the band to eat in the green room while fans began lining up outside the venue, waiting for the doors to open.

You had a couple drinks with the band while biding your time before you had to get dressed for the show. Much to your delight, Eddie never left your side the whole time. You had been close to him in your living room day after day when you’d worked on your songs, but this was different; you kept noticing little glances and touches that spoke louder than words- how his hands lingered longer than expected, never missing a chance to touch your arm or place a hand on your back to guide you as you walked. How his eyes were most focused whenever he was looking at you, and he never seemed to give you passing glances- every look he gave you was intense and purposeful, it made you shiver in a very good way. When he and the band left to get ready for showtime, he took a moment to check on how you were before leaving to go to his dressing room.

“You nervous?” he asked. There wasn’t any judgment there, just concern for you.

“Yes,” you admitted, “But I think I’ve got it.”

Eddie smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. “Oh I know you’ve got it, angel.”

You caught his wrist, holding it to your shoulder before he could retract it. Turning to him, you batted your eyes a bit before raising an eyebrow. “Angel, huh?”

Eddie inclined his head, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “What, should I switch back to sweetheart?”

You smirked. “Only if you wanna make me mad.”

It took everything in you not to shrink back from him as he leaned forward, practically glowering over you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have decided against it. You saw his tongue poke into the inside of his cheek as he nodded to himself, eyes narrowing further as if he were having a whole conversation within his head that you weren’t privy to. Finally, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you let him go, staring at him with every ounce of confidence you could muster.

“...I’ll remember that, popstar.” he said, voice low and gravelly and sure to throw you into a coma if he said the right words with that voice at the right time. You didn’t let him see how much he was affecting you, though- save for a little grin that you couldn’t hide as he smirked at you and walked away.

When he exited the green room- and you were sure you were alone- you finally let out a breath that you’d been holding for what seemed like entire minutes. You grabbed your drink, chugging down the rest of your liquid courage in the hopes that it might also cool you down a bit.

***

The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and the gravity of what was about to happen was starting to get to you.

Corroded Coffin was about to start the song that would be your cue to join them. You stood in the wings like you had during sound check, this time fussing over your outfit to ensure every piece was in place. The fact that it was Halloween combined with the tone of your new album had influenced your wardrobe choice for the evening- ripped black jeans that were more rip than jean, a strappy black bustier top with a plethora of silver buckles that decorating the surface of your bodice where the sides attached at your sternum, fishnet fingerless gloves, and your favorite part of the outfit: the biggest platform boots you’d ever owned. You remembered seeing them and falling in love immediately with the straps that decorated the entirety of the shoe, as well as the silver buckles on each strap that matched your top like a dream. Paired with your blue hair, you looked strikingly goth and nearly unrecognizable from the girl your fans remembered.

When Eddie announced you onstage, you had to take a deep breath before joining him out there. Slow inhale, slow exhale… and then you were overtaken with hot stage lights.

Out on the stage, you could really take in the size of this crowd- it was far larger than what you were used to, and when they realized who you were, they went wild. You couldn’t help but be intimidated until you felt Eddie’s hand gently grounding you as it ghosted the skin on your back.

His lips tickled your ear as he leaned in and whispered in your ear out of range from the mic, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.”

You felt a flare of indignation intertwined with delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little evilly into the mic at this little shit of a rockstar.

He did that on purpose.

You looked at him with the biggest smirk on your face, and it matched the smug, sultry grin on his. Silently, he nodded at the audience as if to say ‘Well? They’re waiting.’

You looked over your shoulder at Jeff on the bass, nodded, and right on cue as Jeff began the first note of the song, the entire stage was flooded with scarlet light.

***

Eddie could tell you were nervous. Flirting with you probably wasn’t helping, and for all he knew, he might even be making you uncomfortable.

However…

Over the years, Eddie’s gotten more perceptive when it came to the subtleties of body language. He didn’t miss the fact that you’d been leaning into every touch he ghosted over your skin, no matter how overt or fleeting those touches might have been. He’d seen the change in your eye contact when it lingered a little longer than necessary- that shift from attentive to intrigued, even a little wanting at times.

The only question was what you wanted, and Eddie was really hoping it was him.

As he watched you take his place at the mic, standing monochrome in scarlet light, he bit his lip as he tried to hold back the salacious grin that slid across his lips; he was unsuccessful.

Eddie hit his guitar part easily as you purred the lyrics that the two of you had slaved over into your microphone.

Be more predictable

Be less political

Not too original

Keep to tradition, but stay individual

Thrusting ever so slightly with his warlock, Eddie channeled the rage and rebellion of your lyrics into every word, smirking with the next few lines- they had been one of the first additions to the song that he’d made, and you more than did them justice.

Dirty but washable

Winning but stoppable

All that I’m hearing is

You wanna make the impossible possible

Even though you’d been nervous earlier, it looked like you’d been able to shake it all off. Confidence was rolling off you like waves, strength in your comfort onstage practically seeping out of your pores. Eddie felt proud, yes, but mostly? He was turned the fuck on by it. His eyes never left you as you carefully removed the mic from its stand and leisurely strode to the edge of the stage as you sang the next lines, punctuating the last with a little shake of your head and a comically disgusted wrinkle of your nose.

Is this what you’d all prefer?

Would you like me better if I was still her?

Did she make your mouths water?

Ugh.

Just like you’d practiced, flashing white lights littered the stage right on cue when the drums opened up the chorus, and you belted those lyrics with all the anger and exasperation that he knew you’d felt when you’d written them. You were a force to be reckoned with- this was that girl he’d met when he’d walked into your apartment acting like a jackass; this was the firecracker of a woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought.

I know the part I’ve played before

I know the shit that I’ve ignored

I know the girl that you adored

She’s dead, it’s time to fucking mourn

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

Dinner’s served, it’s on the floor

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

You dropped to a crouch, for the end of the chorus, legs bent but spread slightly, and flashing lights glinted off the metal buckles of your platform boots. Your voice ripped from your chest as you belted into the mic.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

Eddie was incredibly grateful for the crouch you’d dropped into, because it gave him a view of your ass that was so perfect, he actually groaned. Swooned, practically. Thank god you had his mic and the music was loud enough that no one noticed. He hoped. However, anyone with eyes could probably see that he was basically undressing you with his gaze right now, so he really needed to get it together unless he wanted to be on a front page tomorrow for the wrong reasons. He cringed, imagining the headline Munson Ogles Popstar Half His Age. Mid-Life Crisis? Yeah. His publicist would love that one.

You stood back up, stalking the edge of the stage as you sang the second verse. When you were about halfway through, you turned to look over your shoulder at Eddie, and it just about knocked the breath from his lungs. Your eyes- lined in black and zeroing in on him like something out of his metalhead fantasies- smoldered like embers on the edge of a cigarette as you sang the second half of the verse to him.

Longer hair and tighter clothes

Would you like me better if I didn’t oppose?

Silver platters, pretty bows…

You were at his side now, turned sideways from the crowd so you were facing him as he turned to face you in tandem. About a foot away from each other, the only thing between you was his guitar, thankfully big enough to hide the way his hard-on was quickly growing harder with every moment you looked at him with those eyes.

Your expression shifted, eyes rolling as you threw your head back in mock boredom, amping the lines up to the extreme. As you lifted your head back up, you looked at him with the brattiest fucking face Eddie had ever seen as you delivered the final line of the verse into the mic.

…Fuck.

And then you smirked, tip of your tongue peeking out of your lips and you winked at him.

Fucking. Winked.

Ohhhhhh, you were doing this on purpose. You had to be.

And Eddie couldn’t do shit about it, because you were in the middle of a performance, on stage, jumping around in platform boots and screaming the chorus into your mic like fucking banshee. So he channeled every ounce of sexual frustration into shredding the fuck out of his guitar and staring you down, salivating at the way you blazed on that stage like a witch at the stake. Then, about halfway through that chorus, at the edge of the stage and working the crowd for all they could give you, Eddie just about had a heart attack.

Because you dropped to your fucking knees.

You let the music take control of you, screaming ‘I can’t spoon-feed you anymore’ into the mic, you dropped down to one knee followed by the other as you delivered the final lines before Eddie’s solo.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

You held your last note long and loud, widening your knees and leaning into a backbend that didn’t stop until your upper back touched the stage behind you. Eddie was amazed that he was even able to remember his part when you were in front of him doing that. Jesus Christ.

Eddie continued to play, and he saw you crane your neck just in time to make eye contact with him as you delivered the next line of the song. You brought the mic to your lips, your knees still spread open and your spine deliciously arched.

Choke on it!

God…you were gonna kill him.

You pushed yourself back into a kneeling position, facing the audience. As Eddie’s guitar solo became more complex, and his playing more impressive, your jaw dropped as you looked to the audience and fanned yourself, as if you were all sharing a joint reaction of ‘wow, are you guys hearing this too?!’. Eyes crinkling from your smile, you brought the mic to your mouth again.

Choke on it!

Once you were back on your feet, you stood at ease in the center of the stage as you waited out Eddie’s solo. When he finished, you stared down the crowd as you delivered the last chorus. At this point, Eddie could see some of the spectators mouthing the words along with you, and his chest swelled with pride at your ability to win over a crowd that hadn’t even been expecting you on stage. Hell, knowing his fans, most of them were probably older than you by several years, and yet here they were singing your song.

When you drew your first breath after the final note, the crowd went wild. He expected you to be staring at them, soaking up the energy of a satisfied throng of fans, but no- immediately, your eyes were on him, an ear-to-ear smile stretching across your face. You had just absolutely killed your first song performed in two years, and you wanted to share your joy with him before you shared it with anyone else.

Eddie couldn’t help but mirror your smile- it was the least he could do, after the way you just made his heart swell to triple its usual size. He took a few steps over to where Jeff stood with his bass, nodding to the mic in a silent question, to which Jeff gladly stepped aside.

“If this is what happens when you take a two-year hiatus,” Eddie said slyly into the mic, “then maybe you should do it more often, rockstar.”

The crowd cheered again, and you looked caught off guard by his calling you rockstar instead of popstar. To Eddie, it made perfect sense- tonight, there was nothing pop about you. You were rock & roll incarnate, his equal in every single way. You took a few steps back until you and he were the same distance from the edge of the stage, and as long as he was speaking, your eyes never left him.

“So I’ve been working with this absolute badass on an album- well no, I’m giving myself way too much credit, she wrote an album, I plucked a few guitar strings, yada yada yada-” You giggled as Eddie reminded the crowd of your name, loud and clear, so they knew who to look up on Spotify later. “-anyway, her album drops in a week, that last song you heard was called…”

Eddie looked at you with expectant eyes and a devilish smile. He wanted to hear you say it. Just for fun. He enjoyed being a little shit.

You smirked into your mic. “Eat Me.”

The crowd cheered again, all it took was hearing you say two little words. Eddie knew the feeling.

“We’ve got one more before our lovely guest has to leave the stage, and this one is my personal favorite off the album.” Eddie started warming up with a couple chords from the song before adding, “This is Freak.”

You had replaced the mic into its stand at center stage, which was where Eddie headed to meet you. During sound check, you had asked him if he would need his own mic for this one, but Eddie- selfishly- had said it was no problem, and he didn’t mind sharing. That was a drastic understatement though, since he would happily leap at any excuse to have his lips close to yours in any capacity at all.

You smiled at him, and you were doing that thing again- that thing where you looked at him like you were giving him a dare. That thing where you touched the tip of your tongue to your upper lip.

Eddie wanted to bite that lip.

Instead, he smoldered down at you as he began the opening chords to Freak.

***

You may not have been sure about Eddie’s feelings before tonight, but you were now.

He wanted you. Bad. So bad, you felt high off the lust that was rolling off the man beside you.

You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wanted to do so many things to you here and now, but due to the giant crowd before you that wasn’t an option. The power trip of knowing that every move you made was driving him crazy and he couldn’t do shit about it made you feel bratty as fuck, and you channeled every ounce of that into each word of your next song.

Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sultry lyrics take over, arms bending as you brought them up to dance above your head as you stretched your neck back. Your pose mimicked the way you might have stretched across a bed, arching your back slightly in a way that you knew would make Eddie’s mind wander to all the right places.

Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven-sent

As the tempo picked up for the bridge, your lips brushed the mic and you bounced slightly to the beat. Looking up at Eddie, you felt your chest tighten when you saw how blown his pupils were as they zeroed in on you. There was nothing silly or flirty in his gaze now- this was lust, want, need… it was predatory in a way that made you shiver.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freak go crazy.

Eddie’s guitar launched into the chorus with you, both of your mouths breaking your little standoff by smiling because you couldn’t help yourselves- performing together, this close, singing lyrics that the two of you connected with- you were having so much fun.

Am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat

Take a bite just to watch me bleed

Freak

Say what you want and what you want is behind your teeth

Ain’t gotta spell it out for me

Freak

Now Eddie’s lips were the ones on the mic, his throaty voice tearing through the air in a way that made you stop short from its power alone. He sang the first two lines on his own-

Bait me, you can cage me

Even plate me, I don’t care

You joined him for the bridge on one side of the mic while his mouth remained in place at the other, and his voice dropped down to his chest to create a sound that was more growl than song. He sounded demonic, feral- damn, you wanted to jump his bones right now.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freaks go crazy

As you both sang the chorus together this time, your eye contact across the microphone was charged with feelings reflected as though you were looking in a mirror. Anticipation for what would happen after this show was building with every lyric, and as he growled his lines into the mic you wondered what the headline would be if you stuck your tongue down his throat right now.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how you wanted to start this next leg of your career- at least publicly. Different time, different place. Like, say, in about thirty minutes. In your dressing room. Against a wall, preferably.

When you finished the chorus, Eddie shredded through his guitar solo like a bat out of hell, even improvised a scream into the mic that made your jaw drop yet again. Upon hearing it, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh, hopping up and down in your platform boots and headbanging along with him. After he’d finished, you took hold of the mic stand with both hands and began chanting repeating lines that would take you through to the next chorus before ending the song.

Came from the trauma, stayed for the drama

You sang the line twice before Eddie joined you for the third and fourth repetition, that deep, ripping croon tearing its way through his throat and out of his plush pink lips less than an inch from yours. You wanted to turn your head and look at him so badly, but you were so close that you’d be locking lips if you did.

As you both sang the final chorus, you pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet; you were rewarded with lust blown umber eyes, sweat-soaked curls framing a face as timeless as music itself, and a grin that sparked pure joy in your very soul.

If this guy can fuck, you might just fall for him.

Eddie prompted the audience to cheer for you one more time after the song was over, shooting you a smile as he brought you in for a friendly hug. He was in front of thousands; you knew his hands would remain in strictly G-rated areas (unfortunately), but he did whisper in your ear out of range from the mic.

“Wait for me in your dressing room.”

Bingo.

You thought about following his lead- waiting patiently in your dressing room for him to finish up his show then have his way with you- but you had a better idea. You tilted your head up quickly to bring your lips up to his ear, your clear lip gloss catching its shell.

“I’m gonna keep watching you in the wings- you can do whatever you want after that.”

Your eyes met as you pulled away, and you let yourself revel for a moment at the way he looked at you- like he wanted to, well…eat you. Eyes so dark they were almost black under the stage lights, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. Again, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline from driving him crazy when he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it; you were beginning to think you might be addicted.

As Corroded Coffin finished their set, you stayed offstage and did exactly what you said you would- you watched Eddie every second. You were like a sponge soaking up every flip of his hair, every deft movement of his fingers as they flew across the frets of his guitar. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick to where you stood, checking to see if you were still there, which of course you were. Each time he saw you, you watched as he shook his head again, or rolled his eyes, or- in one case which almost resulted in you melting into a puddle on the floor- maintaining eye contact as he belted out lyrics to songs he wrote, with a gaze so smoldering it felt as if there were no one in the whole arena but the two of you. With every minute, every note, every song- you felt him spinning a web around you like a spider trapping its prey, and you willingly anticipated the moment he would finally storm off the stage and drink you dry.

And that’s exactly what he did.

The last song ended, and Eddie wasted no time in ripping his guitar from his torso, handing it to a roadie without a second glance and grabbing you by the hand. You didn’t protest as he pulled you into a corner backstage away from any prying eyes. Before you could think a coherent thought besides Wow, I’m wet, Eddie took both your wrists in his strong, ring-dappled hands and slammed them above your head against the wall. His eyes, black with lust and wolfishly hungry, bored into yours as he used the last ounce of restraint to hold himself back long enough to ask the vital question, “Tell me, you want this?”

He bit the words out; growled them into your face as your eyes widened, desire painting your expression a gorgeous shade of pathetic as you nodded desperately. A deep groan sounded from his chest as Eddie pressed his pelvis against yours, and you gasped at how hard he was. “Words, sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

That familiar flare of indignation in your chest mingled with the flames in your core that burned for all he had to give you. Your eyes shifted, screaming rebellion that harmonized with the submission that your body so desperately craved. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a mocking half-smile. “Fuck yes, I want it, what do you think I was bouncing around out there for-”

His lips murmured a “Fucking Christ,” as he cut your sentence short, smashing his needy mouth against your burgeoning smirk. His arms crumbled as he finally felt the release of his skin on yours, caging you in as his forearms collapsed against the wall, hands still closed around your wrists. His biceps flexed, framing your faces as he all but devoured you in a kiss that was so wanting, so possessive- it claimed you. It ruined all kisses that came before it and would ever follow it.

He was ruining you, and you committed the way his whole body covered yours and made you feel both safe and coveted to memory, imprinting it on your mind knowing that you would probably never feel this wanted ever again.

Then, just as soon as he was on you, his touch lifted away.

A needy whine escaped your lips before you could hold it back. Eddie slotted his tattooed hand into the space where your neck met your jawline, thumb caressing your skin as he smiled sweetly down at you- but his eyes were anything but sweet.

“I gotta go back out for the encore. Go take these off-” you melted into his touch as his other hand played with the buckles at the front of your top. His hand at your neck crept back, taking your chin between his thumb and the middle knuckles of his forefinger as if he were scolding a child.

“-and wait in your dressing room.”

Your eyelids were heavy, and you smirked as you opened your mouth to argue-

“And don’t fucking argue with me.”

You bit the reply into your bottom lip- you could save the brattiness for later. Just as Eddie had begun to pull away, his eyes dropped to your teeth on your lip and in half a second he was on you again.

He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the soft skin before biting down firm enough to set off your mental alarms yet soft enough that you didn’t feel any pain from it. He pulled away once more, letting your lip go with a little pop.

“Been wanting to do that all night.” Eddie said, his shit-eating grin back in full force as he winked at you and jogged back to the stage. You stayed put for a second, smiling like an idiot as you heard the roar of the crowd, imagining what Eddie must look like while he returned to the stage with lips pink and swollen from his attempt at eating you alive. No one would know why he looked out of breath and a little extra happy… but you would.

You’d never walked as fast in your life as you did in that moment, making a beeline for your dressing room, fingers already beginning to work on the buckles at your sternum.

***

When Eddie opened the door to your dressing room about ten minutes later, the gigantic grin on his face fell instantly when he saw you lounging on the couch in the same clothes you’d been wearing during sound check, sans your oversized skull sweatshirt. Your black shorts and knit tank top still showed plenty of skin, but he had explicitly told you to take off your clothes and wait for him. You were still in the mood to brat out, apparently.

You looked up at him from your phone, smiling sweetly with challenging eyes. “Hi.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as it shut. “Hi.” he mimicked, crossing his inked forearms over his chest. He stared at you silently, expectantly.

You raised an eyebrow, coyly pretending not to know what he was being so pissy about. “What?”

Eddie pushed off the door, walking towards you at a pace that was agonizingly slow. “You know what.”

You huffed haughtily, looking back at your phone and pretending to be more interested in your screen than the man who’d had you panting up against a wall ten minutes ago. “Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, I’m not a mind reader.”

It didn’t take Eddie long to cross the expanse of your tiny dressing room, deftly sliding the phone from your hands and placing it on a low table beside the couch. “Should’ve known you weren’t listening earlier,” Eddie tsked and shook his head in disappointment. “I know you were a little distracted back there, sweetheart, but when I told you to take your clothes off, I meant it.”

You sighed as Eddie stared down at you from where he stood, towering over you as you laid back against the couch cushions. His gaze devoured you piece by piece as it roved over your wide eyes, glossy lips- your shoulders still shining from sweat after giving your all to the stage, your chest as it rose and fell with your quickening breath.

“Well,” you purred, like a cat who knew they were the center of attention and didn’t mind it in the slightest. “You didn’t say not to put on clothes after I took the other ones off…”

As you spoke he leaned forward, placing a knee on the couch between your legs so that your heat was only inches from his thigh. His hands splayed across your rib cage, admiring the stark contrast between his ink-covered hands and your soft, cream-colored shirt. It was thin enough to see… wait, were you-?

Eddie smirked, a breathy laugh escaping through his nose as he pulled the fabric taut, confirming his suspicions that yep, you weren’t wearing a bra.

Oblivious to Eddie’s train of thought, you continued, “...if you wanted me to just wait here for you naked then you should’ve been more specif-”

Rrrrriiiiipp!

Your jaw dropped, cold air hitting your bare breasts without warning as Eddie tore your shirt open. You squealed, your shocked voice jumping up several octaves. “Eddie!” but your eyes told a different story. You were pissed, but the anger you felt was nothing compared to how fucking hot he looked after doing something as dominant and unexpected as ripping your fucking clothes off.

He raised his eyebrows, giving you a moment to push him away in case he had gone too far- but you didn’t. Instead, you narrowed your eyes up at him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, pressing your cleavage together the way you knew would drive him nuts. “That was fucking Gucci!” you pouted.

Eddie laughed, taking your crossed arms and shoving them up above your head over the arm of the couch as he mockingly imitated your high-pitched “‘That was fucking Gucci!’” he lowered himself over you, bringing his face to the hollow of your neck, and you heard him inhale the scent of you from your collarbone to your ear. He wrapped his lips around the underside of your ear and sucked, then bit, savoring your little moan at the sensation. His mouth met your ear as he growled, “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just done as you were told, instead of being a little fucking brat.”

Eddie pulled back, sitting up on his knee that was still slotted between your legs as he cupped his hands around your naked breasts. He kneaded them, played with you like he was testing out a brand new toy. He addressed you without looking up into your eyes as he continued to paw at your chest. “You gonna be a good girl now and do what I tell you to?”

You raised your eyebrows, amused that he expected your submission so quickly. Smugly, you looked up at him through narrowed eyes, placing your hands behind your head like a pillow and sighed petulantly.

“Fucking bite me.”

His eyes snapped up at you, thick with predatory disbelief at your cheek even when he had you half naked beneath you. He’d been challenged before, sure- but at this point, when he had his woman pinned down and moaning under him, he was usually the undisputed decision-maker during sex. The smile that bloomed across his lips was devilish, almost like there was a beast within him that had been kept safely under lock and key- until you’d said that.

Eddie was on you, grabbing one breast and enveloping the nipple in a harsh suck of his lips, biting down on the little nub hard. You gasped, the sound a lewd, sharp moan that brought out a laugh in him so nefarious it gave you chills. He looked up at you with eyes alight with amusement and feral need that shook you to your core.

“Oh, baby-” he laughed, crawling up until his face hovered over yours. “-I’m gonna have some fucking fun with you.”

Taking your face in his hands, Eddie Munson kissed you like it was what he had been put on God’s green earth to do. His lips moved against yours with a beautiful mix of urgency and devotion, like you could just tell that right here, right now, there was nothing else he cared about except making sure you knew exactly how badly he wanted- needed- to make you his. He slowly lowered the rest of his body until his pelvis was flat against yours, grinding into your clothed heat and exploiting the chink in your brat armor that was the his fucking size.

You bucked your hips up into him, craving friction as you moaned into his mouth. Eddie chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “What’s the matter baby, you need something?”

You pouted against him, moving a hand to reach between the two of you and palm him through his jeans, but he knocked your hand out of the way, continuing to dry hump you to insanity. You whined as he bit your pouting lip, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue slipped into yours. It explored you, tasting you as your tongue happily let him in. You felt his hand creep down your torso, giving your abused, bitten tit a little squeeze before traveling further down to the button of your shorts.

He undid the button with ease before you registered that he was taking off your clothes after he had denied you access to do the same to him. “Hey,” you panted, reaching for him, “you first, that’s not fair. I’m nearly naked and you haven’t even taken off your shirt.”

Eddie chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. “Fair?” he asked, “Since when did you want to play fair?” He reached back down to your shorts, button already undone, and gently pulled down the zipper. “You were the one out there- as you said- ‘bouncing around’-” His hands raked up your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts and slowly tugged them down as you lifted your hips slightly so he could remove them smoothly. Eddie smirked; NOW she does what I want her to do. “-knowing full well I couldn’t do a damn thing about it… and that fucking wink-” His eyes rolled back in his head just imagining it. He groaned as he pulled your shorts from your feet and discarded them on the floor. “-what the fuck was that, huh? Trying to get a rise out of me, baby?”

You giggled, bubbly laughter floating into a breathy sigh as Eddie’s finger traced the line of your slit through your panties. “Hmmmmm, like it when you call me baby.” you hummed.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh you do?” His finger traveled up over the fabric, and he chuckled when you bucked up into his touch as the pad of his finger passed over your clit. That finger slipped under the elastic waistband of your panties, pulling it upwards off your skin as far as it could stretch. “You’re entirely too happy right now,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He let go of the elastic, making you jump with a breathy whimper as it hit your skin with a soft sting. “I’m switching back to sweetheart.”

You whined and he laughed as he continued to play with the elastic on your panties. He stared at them, entranced, before a wolfish grin took up residence on his face. “You like these?” he asked, and you knew where this was going right away.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “How kind of you to ask this time.”

The grin grew, and he took the crotch of your panties into his fist, grabbing the fabric above it with his other hand to do the same. You ground your hips against his knuckles as they brushed your pussy, already soaked and eager for any friction you could get. “Yeah, you know what,” he voiced, as if he were simply thinking out loud. “I don’t really care if you like them or not.”

And with that, another article of clothing was ripped to shreds by Eddie Munson and his stupid, tattooed, ring-covered, sexy-as-fuck hands.

This time you couldn’t even be offended; you were just fucking feral at this point. While he was still distracted by your panties, you quickly shoved yourself up to a kneeling position, startling him enough that he moaned into the fervent kiss that crashed into his mouth. The two of you knelt on the couch cushions, hands grabbing at fabric desperately in a quest to make your skin connect at every square inch you had. Eddie allowed you to pull his shirt over his head, and the shallow breath you had left was instantly knocked from your lungs when you took in the ink that decorated his torso. Some tattoos were old and faded almost blue, while others looked newer- song lyrics, mythical creatures, hellish images adorned his skin like a tapestry that belonged in a museum- but it was here, under your hands. All for you. You couldn’t hold yourself back from bending down a little lower, sliding your tongue up his sternum over the masterpieces scarred into his skin and licking a long, broad stripe from his chest until you reached the tip of his chin. You felt him shiver, arms tightening around you after shoving the remains of your tank top over your shoulders. You started to push him back, planning to open his pants and show him what else you could do with your tongue- but Eddie wasn’t about to let you be on top after the way you’d been acting all night.

“Mm-mm, nope.” he mumbled, stepping off the couch.

“I’m just trying to suck your cock, baby. Please?” You looked up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, widening your legs as you knelt on the couch facing him, squishing your boobs together in that way that usually got you exactly what you wanted. For some reason, Eddie was immune.

He placed his hand along your neck, thumb and forefinger squeezing just enough for him to feel your pulse. The way your eyes widened, looking up at him the same way you had when he’d shoved you up against a wall earlier- it brought a satisfied hum out of Eddie, and he loved the way he could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. There was no hiding what you felt when his hand was wrapped around your throat.

“You like calling me baby, sweetheart?”

You gulped. He felt it, of course, and he had to hold back a laugh- you looked so cute like this. Made him want to break you just to see what you’d be like when he picked up the pieces.

Your eyes were blown wide, like a hunted fox with nowhere to run. “Is that okay? Can I call you baby?”

His face crumpled- god, you were adorable. Eddie smiled sympathetically, “Oh you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart-” His thumb moved up to your bottom lip, stroking gently before working it into your mouth; he groaned, head thrown back when he felt your soft, wet tongue swirl around his digit and coat it with your spit.

“-don’t care what you’re calling me as long as you know I own your ass tonight.”

And then you moaned- oh, you fucking moaned his name around his finger in your mouth, and his cock twitched at the way it sounded. He wanted to record that, play it on loop, put it in a fucking song, hell- anything for him to be able to listen to it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to hear it, to know it was his name on your fucking tongue.

His thumb ripped from your mouth, replaced by his middle and ring finger, delving surprisingly deep into your mouth as you gagged around them. Your tongue quickly resumed its previous motions, lapping at his thick fingers and sliding over, under, around, between them. You reveled in the taste of metal as you tongued his silver rings. You gasped when he removed his fingers before, without warning, he slid them into your weeping pussy.

Your expression was beautifully obscene, eyes wide with surprise while your mouth- glistening with spit from his fingers leaving in a rush- fallen open in a silent scream. Eddie thrust his fingers up and into you repeatedly, forcing you open wider and wider with the rapid motion.

“Actually, I changed my mind,” Eddie grit into your ear, “I don’t wanna hear anything but my goddamn name leave that pretty ‘lil mouth until I’m done with you, aright?”

You were moaning, but evidently that was still not enough to deter you from being your snarky self. “Well that’s unrealistic, I’ll probably say more than just tha- ah! Oh fuck-!”

Eddie’s pace was relentless, fingers ripping through you with a vengeance as he muttered “Bratty little slut-” spearing you over and over as you sped toward the white-hot precipice that wasn’t quite release, but certainly what Eddie intended to pull out of you.

You moaned as what felt like a dam within you suddenly gave way, flooding your inner thighs, Eddie’s hand, and the couch beneath you. Eddie smiled wide, the muscles in his arm screaming pointlessly- he wasn’t going to stop until you’d given him every last drop there was to give.

“-yeah, not so bratty when you’re squirting all over my hand, are you baby? What, are you trying to say something? Spit it out, popstar-”

The noises tumbling from your lips were anything but coherent, Eddie knew that. He just kept grinning like a kid in a candy store as you babbled sounds that might have been his name, might have been a prayer, might have just been yes, yes, yes, Eddie, god yes!

Whatever it was, it was music to his ears.

Eddie looped his arms under your knees, pulling you into a sitting position with your legs wide open. Dropping to his knees, he stared at your spread pussy, glistening with the slick he’d just wrestled from you. His hands, wet with all you’d given him, grasped your thighs firmly but gently as he looked up into your eyes. It might have been the post-orgasmic haze you were experiencing, but for a second, Eddie looked at you with nothing in his eyes but care and admiration. His gaze shone like sunlight as he looked up at you, your stomach creasing from the crunch position he'd placed you in, your breasts rising and falling with each breath- the way he stared at you made you feel like an angel.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he whispered, hands squeezing your thighs affectionately. Before you could even react, his tongue was on you, lapping away at your soaked pussy. You mewled, head thrown back and spine arching as unraveled you from the inside out. He traced endless intricate shapes over your clit, your lips, your hole- thoughts flew from your brain as you let his mouth drive you fucking wild. His ministrations slowed at one point, causing you to open your eyes- you couldn’t even remember when you’d closed them- and look up at Eddie.

Upon looking up, you were blessed with the sight of Eddie Munson, close-cut beard soaked with your slick, shirtless, pantsless, and currently pulling off his black boxers to reveal a cock that made you salivate on sight.

You let your brattiness fly out the window- there would be time for more of it later, but right now you needed that cock in one of your holes and you didn’t quite care which one.

Eddie stroked himself leisurely, eyes boring down into yours the whole time. “Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

You spread your legs open wider for him. “Please.” you whined.

Eddie shook his head, disappointed, sinking to his knees again. “See, this is what I knew would happen,” he murmured, sliding a finger around your clit at a torturously slow pace. “I can’t believe you got fucked stupid already and I didn’t even have to use my cock, those were just my fingers, baby.” From the slick sounds you heard from below your line of sight, you knew that he was jerking himself off as he played with your pussy. It was enough to pull a desperate moan from your throat. He licked one flat, wet stripe from your opening to your clit before murmuring against you, “Can’t even use your words and tell me what you want, sweet girl’s been fucked too dumb to make decisions, is that right?”

You found yourself nodding ‘yes’, the dirty words flying out of his mouth in rapid succession throwing your brain into overdrive. He was right; you barely had the brain capacity to think right now, much less match his attitude with snark. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever he planned on doing next.

Eddie clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked at you pityingly. “That’s right, don’t worry baby I’ll just make all the decisions now, okay?” He rose, leaning over you as he placed a knee to your side and stroked himself, lining up his fully hard cock at your entrance. Your heartbeat quickened, excitement and anticipation building now that you knew his cock would be inside you soon. You mewled as his tip stroked your slit, up and down and up and down again… and stopping at your hole, hovering outside you.

You looked up at him desperately, only to breathe in sharply upon seeing his devilish grin paired with coal-black lust-blown eyes.

“Beg for it.”

You sighed so heavy it became a sob, frustrated and scrunching up your face like you were ready to throw a tantrum.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined.

“There she is.” he murmured.

If looks could kill, your glare would have sent Eddie Munson to his deathbed. He matched it with a condescending smile that spoke volumes of the power trip he was on right now. Leaning in slightly closer, he repeated himself. “Beg, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No.”

Eddie shrugged, backing up just enough for his cock to leave your skin- you knew it was over from there.

“Wait!” you cried, eyebrows drawing together desperately under his cocksure gaze. Christ you didn’t want to beg, but you might not have a choice. Eddie waited patiently, stroking his cock absentmindedly as he watched you squirm below him.

You looked up at him, giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice was honey sweet, soft and submissive.

Eddie crouched down, sticking a finger in his mouth before he used it to play with your pussy, stroking circles around your clit and pumping it slowly in and out of you. “Aww, baby…” he crooned before narrowing his eyes. “-we both know you can do better than that.”

You groaned, back arching as your hands fisted frustratingly into the cushions. “Eddie, pleaaasse-”

“Try harder, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Eddie you fucking prick, just fucking fuck me, please, I need your cock-”

Eddie smiled- that was good enough for him. “‘Atta girl.” he groaned deeply as he pushed his cock into your waiting hole, your thankful moan mingling with his.

His dick was perfect, filling you deliciously and long enough to just hit that spot beneath your clit that made your nerves go berserk. You didn’t realize how loud your moaning was until Eddie shut you up by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing down every sound you made and repaying you with noises of his own.

“God, baby- so fuckin’ tight-”

You moaned, squeezing him as his cock speared you again and again. You were so built up between your squirting earlier and Eddie’s talented tongue- you were already getting close.

As if he could read your mind, Eddie grunted out as he continued thrusting into you, “I’m nearly there already, baby, you gonna cum with me?”

You whined, nodding ‘yes’ as he pacified your mewling with his thumb. You lapped at it lewdly, covering him with a thick layer of your spit before releasing it with a pop. Eddie brought it down to your clit, working gentle circles around your bundle of nerves as his thrusting picked up the pace. You squirmed under him, chasing your release as you listened to the filth that poured from his mouth while he fucked the living shit out of you.

“Jesus, fuck, so tight- my sweet girl, gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna make you come undone on my cock, just a fucking mess, gonna cum so hard on my cock-”

That last thing he said seemed to jerk him back into reality- his eyes grew wide, snapped out of his high as he looked down at you. “Shit, I don’t have a condom…baby, I’m so sorry, shit, where should I-”

You reached down, raking your nails softly over his hips. “I’m on birth control.” you said, smiling calmly. You kicked yourself for being so eager; normally you would still insist on a condom even with your implant, but Eddie just did something to you. “You haven’t been fucking any random groupies, have you?”

Eddie huffed, his laughter strained by his fast-approaching orgasm. “You’re the first in a while, angel. Last I checked I was clean, but I can still pull out if you-”

“Inside.” you whispered, grasping his ass and pulling him deeper into you. “I trust you, Eddie, I want you to fill me.”

His movements stuttered, big brown eyes wide and watching you like you were a miracle unfolding underneath him. He was still for half a second before his thumb resumed its movements over your clit as he thrusted faster, harder than before.

“Oh fuck, you want me to fill you baby? You want my fucking cum?”

His cock speared into you as deep as it could go, Eddie’s attention to your clit driving you over the edge with relentless speed. “Yes, I want it Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Fucking take it baby, cum on that cock.”

Eddie groaned as you clamped down on him, his seed spilling inside of you while your pussy fluttered around him. You arched your back until your face was pressed into the cushions behind you, muffling your whimpering voice as you moaned his name.

A few moments passed, the air thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex, before Eddie slowly pulled out of your wet heat. You laid there for a moment before you felt Eddie clean his sticky spend from your thighs and ass using a tissue.

“Normally,” he said gently, “I would use a warm washcloth to do this, but we have limited options.”

You sat up as he finished, smiling up at him playfully. “That sounds nice,” you said, “maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you earlier, made you wait until you couldn’t take it anymore and just whisked me off to your place.”

Eddie sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. He looked up at you with nothing but content sweetness in his eyes, any trace of the feral dominance from earlier gone for now. “I mean, we can still do that.”

You beamed, “Really?”

Eddie scoffed, tugging you closer. “What do you mean, ‘really’? You think I need to be desperately horny to want you in my bed?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the mention of his bed. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t know if you wanted this to just be a one time thing, or…” You trailed off, unsure of what Eddie’s expectations had been for what happened after.

Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, confused. “Sweetheart,” he said, his finger tracing circles on your thigh affectionately. “We can hash out details whenever you’re comfortable… but tonight? I would count myself a very lucky man if you came home with me tonight.” He touched his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay?” he asked.

You looked down, suddenly shy upon hearing his honey-sweet words. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before looking him in his big brown eyes. “Okay.” you whispered.

Your eyes stayed connected, melting you until your lips met his again, kissing him sweetly as his hands worked their way to your ass, squeezing as he sighed into your kiss.

“Alright,” he grunted, playfully slapping your thigh as a signal to stand up. “Let’s get you dressed.”

You giggled. “In what? You ripped up all my clothes!” you held up the shredded panties, shaking your head in disbelief.

Eddie shrugged, stepping into his boxers. “I didn’t rip up all of them, don’t be so dramatic.” He picked up your shorts, tossing them to you. “Just go commando with the shorts and wear your sweatshirt, no one will know.”

You sighed, stepping over your torn Gucci tank top and retrieving your bra from where it sat neatly folded in a chair. Eddie looked over his shoulder at you as you began to put it on and gasped.

“You did have a bra!”

You smirked, reaching behind your back for the clasp. “Yeah… I wanted to see your face when I wasn’t wearing one.”

Eddie shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he buckled his jeans. “Unbelievable.” he chided, “Was it worth it?”

You tugged your sweatshirt over the bra, taking a few steps in Eddie’s direction until you were close enough to snake your hand around to the back of his neck and pull him down for one more kiss. When you pulled away, Eddie looked down at you entranced, blinking rapidly as if emerging from a dream. He could only describe the feeling in his chest as complete and utter euphoria.

You grinned up at him, eyes alight with adrenaline that still lingered from your performance onstage and absolute infatuation with the man before you.

“So worth it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #rockstar!eddie munson #older!eddie munson #popstar!reader #inspired by demi lovato's album holy fvck #brat!reader #dom!eddie munson #rip-quizilla

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hecateslore · 4 months

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Bro with the Simon and huge babies thing I had the funniest fucking idea- so my dad was really short through all of highschool like he was 4’11 at the start of senior year but by the end of it he had the biggest fucking growth spurt and was 5’9 (i can’t imagine how much that hurt or how many clothes he went though) but imagine that happening with Simon’s kids it would be so damn funny if the guys saw the kids at the beginning of the year just being pretty short then not seeing them for a long while but at the end of the year when they saw the kids again they were all tall as fuck-

ppl with short ass dad's rise!!!

It's the funnies thing ever, Simon thought it would be cool to bring the kids to base one day, the boys were barely starting to grow into their features, they were small and lanky, super hyper always fighting with each other, and the "baby girl" as Simon likes to call her was going through puberty, poor thing was so awkward, just was always embarrassed; Just like Simon in his early years! When he brought them in, Johnny was so excited. Asking them all about their Dad, was he a big meanie at home? Was he always so serious? Gaz and price just stared cause Simon was so gentle (I'm crying). Telling the boys to settle down, teaching them random facts about his job, why it was so important to pay attention (they had horrible attention spans! emphasis on HAD.), holding his daughter close, constantly asking her if she wanted something to drink and if she was okay. He was just being a Dad. It was so obvious the group was freaked out and then some eventually got over it (ahem! Price.) .

That was until like two years later, Simon brought them again, the boys just wanted to look around, and they did. Simon's baby girl (she's the oldest lmfao) was right behind her dad, following him closely, asking him questions about what that machine does, why they have to do a task a certain amount of times. When they finally reached the lounge room where all the men stayed and hung when they were waiting for a response or more info, They couldn't believe their eyes. The two boys stood next to Simon, quiet as a mouse: with the occasional mumble to each other, They were tall and their build was similar to their father's. The mens eyes practically popped out of their sockets, it had only been like a year. Then they saw Simon's daughter and she was fairly tall, taller than the women they've seen around. She was more serious, more assertive, she stood tall next to her Dad. Gaz was the first to make an approach, asking the boys if they have any interest in the armed forces, both saying no and mentioning they barely reach the legal age. Gaz just keeps pestering them about it, "Y'know there's not a lot of guys as big as you two." "you'd be great, you have a nice build" "You just started growing this year?" "You guy's don't think you'll EVER be interested." earning light chuckles from each of the boys. Johnny and price couldn't get enough of Simons daughter, obsessed with how much she was like Simon, asking her if she remembered them, Johnny kept saying he was her favorite, Price was just staring between Simon and her watching their interactions, still weirded out by the fact he's actually a great dad lmfao. They just looked so much older, and they couldn't believe it'd been a year.

#lunden’s response ❀—#cod mw2 #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #cod 141 #cod mw3 #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #captain john price #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #Papa!Simon #ijustbetalkingbruh!#simon riley x you

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

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Not sure if you’ve heard of the ‘dad reflex’ where dads just save their small children from imminent harm (usually because the child is still learning how gravity works or just completely unaware of the world around them). I know Bruce technically doesn’t get the bat kids young but either way his batdad reflex has to be off the charts. What are his best dad reflexes? (They can be smol kids or cannon ages whatever sparks your creative juices most!)

Thank you💙💙

They're at someone else's gala and 27-year-old grown-ass Dick is swinging from a giant chandelier in an atrium 3 stories high when it gives out and Bruce "Wine drunk and raving about his kids" Wayne, who hears the tiny snap across the room, stops mid-conversation, grabs a steak knife, slashes a curtain, and swings from the balcony in like fuckin' Tarzan to grab him in the span of 5 seconds before 300 pounds of metal and glass come crashing down

Tim gets mosh pit tickets for his favorite band and Bruce goes with him because Bernard got caught up in something last minute, and after hours of waiting outside, they make it all the way to the front where, on the last song, Bruce's dad senses tingle in time to shield Tim from a malfunctioning confetti cannon all while glaring at the crew in a way that guarantees someone's about to lose their job

In a recon mission gone sideways, Bruce and Steph are taking on some goons at the harbor when one of them knocks her into the water, and without hesitation he throws aside the person he's fighting, dives into the freezing waves, and gives her his rebreather, holding his breath for what seems like forever until they resurface, and despite the ache in his lungs the next morning, it's worth it when he watches her turn waffles into a breakfast burrito

Duke's driving the Batmobile while Bruce is in the passenger's seat walking him through all the controls, and they're listening to the scanner and joking about their last mission when, just before an intersection, Bruce suddenly grabs the wheel and swerves, and before Duke can say anything a semi truck plows through the exact spot where they would've been

Cass tries to cook one day while Bruce is sitting at the bar doing some work, and he forgot what she was making, but all he knows is one minute he's answering an email and the next he's sprinting across the kitchen and sweeping her out of the way right before the pressure cooker explodes—and afterwards he doesn't let her clean up because everything is still scalding hot

The middle school holds a fundraiser at the petting zoo, and everything's going great until someone forgets to turn off their flash and the whole enclosure descends into chaos, and all Bruce cares about is scooping Damian up before a bull rams into the fence he was sitting on—then he makes eye contact with Clark, who just did the exact same with Jon

Against orders, Jason pursues a lead that brings him right to the Joker's doorstep. Dazed and disarmed, he doesn't realize what's happening until a long metallic scrape renders him frozen as those moments replay in his mind, and he thinks this is how the universe wants him to go out. Then he hears a swoosh and a click. Jason opens his eyes to Batman pointing a gun at the Joker, his silence sending a clear message: no more chances.

BONUS: Teenage Bruce tried to sneak out the window and Alfred was at the bottom ready to catch him

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50shadesofrossi · 2 years

Text

Want Me

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You're Rhaenyra's lady in waiting, by her side at all times and thus leading you to spend many hours within Ser Harwin's company, drawing the two of you together

Warnings: Smut, mentioned violence, swearing, angst (if you squint), fluff

A/N: Hi, small warning, haven't written a full smut scene for a while so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy :)

"Want me to kill him?" You absentmindedly offer to Princess Rhaenyra.

She chuckles from behind you, her fellow ladies attempting to hide their smirks and smiles whilst they finish up her hair. "I know how much you crave violence, but I can not allow you to kill him. Besides, how would you even do it?"

You pause in the mirror, your eyes flickering to find Rhaenyra's. "Seduction is a woman's greatest strength." You whirl around to face her, a cruel expression etching into your face at the thought. "A simple poison into his drink and during the night he'd cease breathing and the Maestor would declare a heart attack. An easy kill, if I say so myself,"

The princess raises her eyebrows, her lips pursing together. Tonight is her name day feast, celebrating another year of her youth and thus drawing in all the potential suitors wishing to offer themselves. One of the Lannister twins made a fool of himself, offending Rhaenyra and thus resulting in you plotting his death, should your princess command it.

As her lady in waiting, you take your role very seriously. Though, you are oft referred to as her sister, the two of you becoming close at a young age and growing up together. It has solidified your relationship with her, and in turn, you know each other inside and out.

Your sharp words and cunning nature are a breath of fresh air as opposed to the customary expectations of Rhaenyra's fellow ladies.

You glance over yourself once more in the mirror, your attention spanning over the finer details of your gown and the excellent work of the seamstress. The dress accentuates your frame, the embroidery and accessories dating back to your House and heritage.

You look like a woman, a woman grown and of power.

"Are you ready?" Rhaenyra pulls you from yourself, twirling around to give you a full look at her.

"Indeed, and must I say my Princess, you look divine." You tell her honestly.

She smiles, the two of you making your way to the great hall. Heads turn at the sight of you both, the heir to seven kingdoms and her fierce lady, who would protect her more so than a knight.

Your stomach begins to twist as you near the hall, your teeth grinding together to keep the nerves at bay. You feel a reassuring squeeze on your hand, your dear friend sensing your change in behaviour.

"If he doesn't fall at your feet and beg for your hand, I'll feed him to Syrax myself," she whispers.

You bite your tongue, though a small smile creeps out. In the past moons, you've become acquainted with a knight, the two of you sharing passions and dreams. Nothing more of talk has happened thus far, but you can't help but think that maybe he will ask for your hand in marriage, as the two of you spend most days side by side.

He makes your heart beat rapidly, with the small gestures and whispered words when no one is close. Not to mention, the way he looks at you, like no one else exists but you.

Yet, you can't help but think that you're in way over your head, too consumed to see the reality.

You have no time to ponder Rhaenyra's words, as the two of you arrive at the hall, the chatter dying down instantly. Swallowing, you hold your head high, following Rhaenyra down the stairs and toward the high table where you veer off to your own.

His eyes were on you the moment you appeared, refusing to leave even as you sit down. You look absolutely breathtaking.

Of course, you avoid his gaze, even from across the room, as you begin to fill your plate. Your skin ignites under his heated stare, your desire overweighting your sense of propriety. Glancing up, you meet him, his deep blue eyes burning into your darkest depths and tearing down every wall you've ever built.

Ser Harwin Strong, renowned for his strength throughout the seven kingdoms and his proud house.

Your cheeks heat up under the intensity, neither of you daring to break contact. You admire how he's dressed, his fine threaded clothes making him look regal, his unruly curls neatly pulled back into a bun. Gods.

The grumble of your stomach brings you to your senses, your head bowing down to begin consuming your food. You feel him continue for a heartbeat longer, before he diverts his attention elsewhere.

As the night begins to progress, you drag Rhaenyra to dance, moving with the music and enjoying yourself. You change partners throughout, making yourself known and extending yourself to the other lords and ladies currently attending for the princess's name day.

For once, Harwin doesn't grace your thoughts, until he becomes your next partner.

Your eyes widen for a moment, your breath catching. "Ser-" you start, not expecting to see him.

"My lady, you look exquisite." His rasps, his body feathering your own.

His heat wraps around you like wild vines, pulling and tugging you closer, enticing you to become lost. You hit your chin out, refusing to fall prey.

"And you, good Ser,"

Harwin smiles, a hum of satisfaction rumbling within his chest. His hand brushes your own, a part of him needing to touch you, his resolve almost snapping from the softness of your flesh. His fingers itch to press firmly, to warn off any man or lord that dare think they have a chance with you.

"Are you enjoying yourself, this evening?" He asks, his lips close to your ear as to make sure you hear him over the loud music.

You turn your head, his breath fanning your cheek. Heat pools within your stomach, want gnawing at you and demanding to be free. "I'll enjoy myself once I've had my dessert," you dare.

His eyes narrow, assessing the situation. Little minx. Before he can conjure his own smart remark, a fellow knight of the city watch approaches, pulling him away from you. You watch him go without a word, a sense of humiliation washing over you as you continue to dance alone, searching for Rhaenyra.

You find her with her uncle, enjoying themselves.

Biting your lip, you move off the dance floor, standing on the sideline. You feel deflated, watching your friends enjoy themselves and even sneak out of the hall with their suitors, and your heart's deepest love couldn't even excuse himself. He just left you.

You see him, surrounded by his companions, and more so with an older woman hanging off him. Now you feel stupid, your usual confidence and ego a ghost. The woman wraps an arm around his waist, much like a partner, and him not moving.

Of fucking course, I'm just the plaything to keep him entertained whilst his lover is elsewhere.

Grinding your jaw in anger, you inhale deeply and begin to make your way through the crowd, ignoring Harwin and his group as you have to pass them to ascend the stairs out of the hall. Your hasty exit catches many people's attention, especially the one you were hoping wouldn't notice.

You don't realise he follows you, until you almost reach your quarters. His boots hit the ground harshly, as he tries to catch you, going as far as calling out your name. You pause in front of your doors, whirling around to face him once he draws near.

Fire dances within your eyes, making Harwin pause momentarily. "Ser Harwin?" You snap.

"I wanted to make sure you're well, you left in such a hurry,"

"I'm fine," you start, your thumb running over your fingers anxiously. "The hall became too much, so I'm retiring for the evening."

Harwin tilts his head. He calls bullshit. He knows you, he grew up alongside you and knows that you are one of the last to leave the party, oft enjoying yourself too much to notice the sunrise and thus requiring an escort, usually him.

He reads your body language, depicting your sudden mood change has something to do with him. He chuckles lightly, amusement etching across his features at your frustrated glare. "You're jealous."

"Jealous?!" You repeat in disbelief, your raised voice echoing the corridor. "Me? Of what?" You ask him incredulously. You naturally begin to step closer, "of that woman? Why would I be jealous of some wench when I am the Princesses lady in waiting, I can have almost any suitor I want, I have sway within these walls and no one quite realises the extent I'll go to if I'm pushed, not to mention," you stop just shy of him, your chest heaving. "One word to my Princess, and I can have whatever I want."

Harwin peers down at you, a small smirk gracing his lips at your outburst. "I never said what you were jealous of," he says lowly, almost inaudible if not for your closeness. "I'll be sure to tell my sister you think she's a wench."

Your world crashes and burns. Sister? That was his fucking sister?! Your heart ceases beating, your breath catches in your throat and your skin clams up. Realisation and dread wash over you, embarrassment etching into your cheeks. You become a wounded animal, and respond much as they do,

"Fuck you." You don't know what compels you or who takes over your body, but you can't stop the words from tumbling out and sending them straight at Harwin.

He blinks.

Quickly you spin on your heel and make haste to your door, pulling the handle to only have it slammed shut, and a large body pressing against you. Your throat constricts, feeling Harwin's entire front against your back as his hand looms over your head, keeping the door closed.

One small movement, and he could bury his nose into your hair. "Say that again," his chest rumbles, his mouth angling down to press on your ear. To make sure you hear him loud and clear.

You're frozen, your body shutting down. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "Go on, don't go shy on me now, my lady," he presses, pushing you.

Licking your lips, you hesitantly shift on the spot, leaning your back against the door and tilting your head to hold Harwin's gaze. He pins you down, the entirety of his body caging you in, almost like a shield protecting you from peering eyes.

"Fuck you," you whisper.

Reflexively, his other hand snaps to your jaw, his fingers digging into the skin. Your lips part, your muscles relax and your body becoming a rag doll. He could very easily suffocate you like he was bunching up a piece of parchment, he wouldn't even feel your bones snap. Yet, in this very moment, your thighs press together, your garment becoming soaked with each passing second.

You know he won't hurt you. His hold on you is firm and delicate, the pads of his fingers gently holding you in place. He tilts his head, assessing you like he would an opponent, his dark eyes roaming your face and his brows twitching in thought.

You test the waters, standing straighter and in turn bumping your nose into his cheek. Harwin exhales shakily, his grip tightening if only a smidge, in comparison to his self-restraint. You nudge your nose against his, his hooded eyes following your every move.

Your breath tangles with his own, desire and hunger transpiring. Harwin's jaw clenches, his palm against the door closing into a fist. You want him, he wants you. Swallowing thickly, your lashes feather your cheeks and you take the plunge, pressing your lips against his own with uncertainty.

For a moment, you float, your body becoming weightless and your mind lost. His lips are softer than you imagined, despite his harsh reputation, soft and plump on your own. Harwin responds, before suddenly pulling you away by his grip still on your jaw.

A bucket of cold water drenches you, his sudden cold demeanour creating a crack in your heart. Not so much that he pulled you away, more how forcible it was, after he began to lose himself under the taste of you. That hurts.

Your eyes flash. You move to release yourself from his grip, but he tightens it, his head turning slightly as though to check for any movement within the corridor. With precision, he pulls you flush to his body and opens the door in one movement, shoving you inside to your quarters and locking the door behind him.

"You naïve girl," he starts, running a hand over his beard.

You scoff, creating distance between the two of you by standing at the window sill. "And they say romance is dead."

Harwin narrows at you. "You have no idea what you've just done, what if someone had seen?" His voice raises, his hand gesturing to the doors.

Confusion swirls within you at his sudden change of behaviour, at his switch from intimacy to frustration in an upsetting kind of way. "I don't see the problem," you cross your arms, raising a brow. "I want you, and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks."

"Well, you should!" You're taken aback by his sudden outburst, a sliver of fear creeping up your spine. "I am not good for you," he says your name with such emotion. "I have enemies at every turn, I can't be at your side protecting you every day and not to mention what would happen to your reputation-"

"My reputation?" You cut him off, your voice low in disbelief of what you're hearing. "You think I give a fuck about my reputation! About your enemies? Gods Harwin," you begin to pace, your hands running over your head and falling against your neck. "How fucking dense are you?"

He attempts to ignore the hiccup in his heart rate at the way his name rolls off your tongue. "I'm more than capable of protecting myself," you start after calming down a notch. You cross the room, standing before the brute and taking his large hands in your own. "Is it that hard to believe that I want you? That I don't care about everything else, about your history and reputation, about the fucking court gossip and your enemies? All I care about is you, your health and well-being, and that I know you'd never hurt me, physically and emotionally. I know you'd die protecting me, and you'd make me feel so loved, despite that shield you put in front of yourself every day."

Harwin brings your hands to his lips, brushing them over your delicate fingers whilst he closes his eyes, relishing in the moment. His coarse beard caresses your skin, planting the idea of how it would feel between your thighs.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you drop your hands down, beating him to it. "You want me Harwin?" your voice pulls to him, lulling him in. "I am right here, otherwise there's the door," you gesture.

Your chest clenches at the thought of him turning his back. You wonder how he could kiss you back, then cough up some bullshit about him being bad for you. It confuses and wounds you.

His lips part, the cogs turning in his head as he makes his decision. He surges forward, gently taking your head in his hands and angling you upward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

He walks you back until you hit the pillar, careful not to slam you into it. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue begging for entrance and his breath meddling with your own. Your fingers curl onto the front of his jacket, squeezing out any air left between you, your fronts pressing tightly.

Your lungs burn, your actions becoming erratic as you move up to his hair, tangling his curls and removing the band keeping it back. You pull at the roots, emitting a deep groan from Harwin, his own hands gliding down your body to find refuge on your waist.

You pour all your emotions into the kiss; the hunger, lusting, anger and need. He dominates you, his mouth slowly moving down your jaw, his teeth nipping along your bone and travelling to your neck, unknowingly finding your sweet spot.

You bite your lip at the sound you release, a small sense of embarrassment flooding your body. Harwin immediately comes up, holding you still with his hard stare. "Don't you dare quieten on me."

"Like your girls loud, Ser Harwin?"

He chooses to ignore your comment. You smirk, your usual demeanour washing into the shore, a calculating look flashing in your eye. Before he can do anything you shove him back, pushing him down onto the lounge.

Surprise is evident on his face, his eyes watching you curiously. You crouch between his spread legs, your palms sliding over his thighs in a soothing manner, slowly making your way to his waistband.

You quite like this image; his unruly dark curls free and framing his face, his intense eyes swallowing you whole and his knees bent outward. He looks casual, yet so fucking handsome you have to restrain yourself from fucking him there.

"Don't look at me like that," you scold, tugging on his pants.

"Like what," he grumbles, lifting his hips.

His pants pool at his feet, his hardened cock free from restraints. "Like I don't know what I'm doing." He eyes you suspiciously, waiting for you to shut down his thoughts. "I've been fucked before, if that's what you're wondering."

He hums in dissatisfaction.

"I'll decide if you've been fucked, my lady." You raise a brow at the title.

He opens his mouth to say something more, but only a loud groan escapes, your lips wrapping around his cock. His hips reflexively jut, his hand moving to your head in response to your movements, your tongue flattening along the underside.

Harwin shudders, his chest rising in deep pants under your ministrations and his fingers flexing in an attempt to hold himself back from face fucking you. You work him steadily, glancing up at him through your lashes and feeling a sense of pride roll down your spine at his dishevelled state, his head lolling over the back of the lounge.

"Fuck," he curses, tilting down to hold your gaze.

You move a hand to work the rest of his cock that you can't fit in his mouth, momentarily pausing when he grabs your wrist, and quickly heaves you off him. "You do that, and this night ends very quickly."

"I find it hard to believe that Breakbones finishes in under twenty seconds," you muse, slipping out his grip easily and situating yourself on his lap.

He groans quietly, both in frustration and need. "Believe me, my lady, that when I cum, I intend on cumming in you and filling you up."

"Good."

You begin undoing his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms before moving to his shirt, heaving it up and revealing his toned stomach. Your fingers splay across his chest, feeling his hard-earned muscles and scars from various fights. You pause on a particularly large wound along his abdomen, feathering the pink tissue.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers your name, reading the emotion on your face.

"This is an assassination attempt, Harwin." You press, flickering up to hold his stare. "Someone almost succeeded in fucking killing you." Unwanted tears spring in your eyes, raw emotion thick within your voice.

The thought of Harwin being killed, frightens the fuck out of you.

He cups your cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping a tear. "This is what I meant," he refers to his previous statement about his enemies. You still, your features hardening.

"Don't you dare, Harwin. Don't you fucking dare." You spit.

He stays silent, observing you whilst your fingers continue their path along his torso, grazing each other his scars. "Seven Hells help the next man that makes an attempt on your life," you vow, your hand splaying out over his heart.

"My little warrior," he rasps, pulling you down to him.

Your lips collide, the taste of him invading your mouth and stealing your breath away. You whimper at the feel of his hands sliding up your arms and resting on your collarbone, toying with your dress. Blindingly he reaches for the lace tying it together, pulling it apart and loosening the top section.

Goosebumps rise along your flesh as Harwin gently tugs the dress down your arms, exposing your breasts and stomach once it pools around your hips. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck, gasping under the ministrations of his hands along your breasts, his thumb tweaking the bud.

You thread through his curls, your nails scraping his scalp and your lips seeking out his neck.

Suddenly he lifts you off him, placing you down on your feet. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and a little confusion, unsure of his next motive. "Take it off," he commands softly, the low rumble in his chest making your heart rate spike.

The dress falls to your feet and you step out of it, mindful of taking off your shoes and being left bare before him. He slowly takes his boots off, never breaking contact even whilst he removes his pants.

You watch him stand, tilting your head as he comes near. He doesn't speak, nor does he kiss you again. Instead, he hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and your arms coming to the back do his neck.

He walks toward your bed, gingerly laying you down. You stare up at him with adoration, every fibre of your body knowing you're safe with this man. Despite his reputation, you could almost laugh, knowing that there is a softer, more caring side to him than anyone realises.

No one has ever touched you like you're glass, like you could shatter and slip through his fingers. He kisses you with so much passion and care, in stark contrast to his daily goings. You've witnessed him in a brawl, smashing the men to the ground without a worry and pummelling them to an inch of their life.

Yet you know, these hands handle you with love.

You slide up to the head of the bed, brushing the hair from Harwin's face when he comes to hover above you. He descends, missing your face entirely and planting kisses along your neck, slowly travelling south.

Airy breaths leave you, your body responding to his attention, more so as he pauses over your breasts, taking an erect nipple into his mouth and tugging. Fire pools within your stomach, threatening to pour out. In a way it does, your head falling back into the cushions and your lips parting to release sounds of pleasure.

Harwin continues his way down, his eyes flickering up to you through his loose curls, intently watching your reaction as he nears between your thighs, softly blowing cool air on your sensitive region. You grit your teeth, glaring down at him.

"Hurry up."

"As my lady commands," he chuckles.

Your flush at the incredibly loud moan, not exactly expecting him to dive right in. Harwin drags his tongue up your slit, finding your clit and sucking. He switches between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking, groaning lowly to himself at watching you writhe under him.

He draws more sounds out of you, snaking a hand up to tease your opening, carefully entering a finger. "Fuck!" You arch your back, your hands reaching for his hair.

He slowly pumps it out of you, enjoying the way you feel around him. He can only imagine how tight you'd be around his cock. The thought almost makes him fuck you right here.

Your stomach twists, your knuckles turning white. No man has made you feel like this, even with just his mouth and finger, the two bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He adds a second finger, wanting to properly prepare you for him, and enjoying watching you lose yourself to the pleasure he's giving you.

He can feel you get close, teetering along the edge as he begins to increase his pace. You whimper at the ache, rutting your hips upward. "Harwin," you whine at the contact of his lips enclosing over your clit and sucking, hard.

The fire burns brighter, scorchingly hot and desperate for a release.

"Let go," he murmurs, gently nipping your clit. You do, your orgasm crashing down like a wave, engulfing you.

He slowly continues to move his fingers through, allowing you to experience your high as he draws it out. He can't help but clean you up before he even thinks about moving away from the safety of your thighs.

With ease, Harwin climbs back up, claiming your lips. You taste yourself, rummaging your hands through his hair and down his back, his muscles rippling under the pads of your fingers.

He pulls away from you, question shining in his eyes; do you still want this?

You nod, leaning up to kiss him again, solidifying your answer. He hums, guiding his cock to press against your slit, teasing you for a moment before he nudges your opening. You gasp on his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders at every inch.

Harwin falls into the crook of your neck, groaning at the sensation. He stops moving once you've taken all you can, pausing to make sure you're comfortable. You clench around him in reflex, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest, his beard grazing your neck.

"Harwin," you pant. "If you don't move in the next five seconds,"

He chuckles at your warning, slowly pulling back. You bite your lip, closing your eyes at the high pleasure rocking throughout your body. Harwin lifts his head, his forehead brushing your own. He intends to watch you complete shatter underneath him.

He slams home, somewhat slow but hard, rutting into you like wild waves against a rock, your back arching and pressing your chest to his. You can't help but rake your nails down Harwin's back, ignorant to the fact that you're close to drawing blood, desperate for a way to show how easily he's unravelled you.

"Gods Harwin," you cry out at each thrust, harder and deeper than before.

He grins, his lips on your ear, "I know quiet isn't exactly in your nature, but maybe don't alert everyone in the Red Keep of our rendezvous."

"Oh fuck off."

Harwin reaches for the headboard, his knuckles turning white from his harsh grip, using it as leverage to pound harder. You chant his name, subconsciously clenching and unclenching around him, causing him to falter each time.

That burning ache brews within you, gradually growing with each slide into you. His free hand comes down to your clit, playing with the bud and drawing you closer to the edge. Overwhelming sensations spark up your body, your legs starting to shake from the pleasure.

"Harwin," you whine.

"I know," he grits, picking up his pace. He hits parts of you that you never knew existed, fireworks erupting each time he enters you deeper, if that were possible. "Good girl, you're taking me so well, hmm?"

Your head is tilted up by his hand leaving the headboard to cup the side of your face, forcing your eyes on him. You struggle to keep your eyes open, a drowsy, drunken look coming across you.

Without warning, you let go, bursting around him. "Gods, fuck!" Harwin calls your name, following you over. He couldn't last any longer, not after feeling you come undone from him.

You gape in a silent moan, relishing in the feeling of him fill you up, his hips slowing but not yet relenting. You shiver from the sensitivity, thankful for when he stops. You struggle to hold contact, fatigue seeping in.

You sigh at the feeling of him remove himself, your muscles relaxing and your spine calming. You don't see where Harwin moves off to, until he comes back and murmurs for you to spread your legs, gently wiping his seed from your thighs.

For a moment, you wonder what happens now. Does he just leave? Does he stay? What happens between the two of you? Thoughts rummage, ruining your come down.

"Hey," he brushes your forehead. "Come here." He pulls the sheets back, indicating for you to crawl underneath. All those thoughts are momentarily thrown out the window when he slides in beside you, pulling you to him.

You lay in silence, your head on his chest and your hand playing with his loose curls. "What happens now?" You can't help but ask.

"Now?" He hums, his chest vibrating. "You become my lady wife, and I fuck you whenever I please."

You laugh, rolling further into him. "You better, now that I've given you my maidenhood."

He pulls away slightly, making you look at him. "What? You told me that this wasn't your first-" he stops, reading the glint in your eye and the expression on your face. "You cheeky girl, almost gave me a heart failure."

You grin cheekily, not quite saying anything whilst you comb his hair. You've found yourself with an obsession. "Leave your hair like this," you say lowly, loving the way it frames his face.

"But it gets in my way," he grumbles, swatting your hand away.

"And I like it like this," you counter, going for his curls again, but this time running your nails along his scalp, smirking at his groan. "And I think you secretly like it too." He gives you the side eye, taking your other hand and bringing it to his lips.

#ser harwin strong #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #ryan corr #ser harwin x reader #hotd #house of dragon fic

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livwritesstuff · 2 months

Note

I've had a consistent thought in my head of the girls learning more about the upside down.

Like they know a bit: uncle Dustin still lives in Hawkins doing research on something, they've seen their dads and they know about the scars and their disabilities. They know something happened to their entire family and they know there was an earthquake that wasn't really an earthquake. But they've never learned more than that and they'll never know the details as long as Steve and Eddie have a say.

But at some point, each of them realizes that the monster hunter jokes that their dads make aren't really jokes.

In general, I think Steve and Eddie’s sentiment surrounding how they address the not-so-pleasant aspects of their past with their daughters is that they won’t lie (because that’ll only come back to bite them in the ass later), but they’re also only going to tell them as much of the truth as they literally need to.

Not that Moe knows any of this.

All Moe really knows is that her dads went through some scary-ass shit when they were her age and they don’t really talk about it.

Still, Moe has eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it when she was little, but even just the sheer amount of scar tissue her dads have isn’t exactly normal. When she asks where they got them, though, all they ever say is that a monster tried to eat them.

Moe also knows that the reason Pop doesn’t usually join them on shopping trips at the mall is because they can trigger bad migraines, and she knows the reason he gets migraines in the first place is that he’d taken too many hits to the head in too short a time, but when she asks how he’d gotten a concussion and then a TBI and then two more concussions in the span of four years he always just says something like picked a fight with the wrong Russian spy, or something like that.

And it’s public knowledge that Dad was accused of murder when he was in high school and nearly died before the charges got dropped, but when she asks about what happened, he gives her some spiel about curses and demons and portals to alternate dimensions and monsters (again, with the monsters).

They’re kidding, Moe knows. They’re giving obviously fake answers because…well, for a lot of reasons, she can imagine– not wanting to relive whatever actually happened, not wanting to put their own trauma onto Moe and her sisters.

Honestly, Moe doesn’t really even bother asking about it anymore because they clearly don’t want to talk about it, and if it really was that bad, she can’t even blame them. Besides, she’s pretty sure that dads are supposed to be total mysteries to their kids, so…whatever.

The story of what happened in Hawkins, Indiana starts to gain some public attention again while Moe is in high school – one of those true crime conspiracy theory-type stories people make Reddit threads and YouTube videos about, and apparently (because Moe has no interest, but Robbie likes that kind of stuff) Dad almost always comes up in them, Pop sometimes.

Around that time is when Moe’s dads start to get all kinds of media requests – not that Pop had any idea. He’s basically chronically offline, so no one is really able to track him down other than finding his work email on Psychology Today, but he’s got filters set up to send that shit to spam so he doesn’t even have to see it. Dad, on the other hand, is (supposedly) well-known for his books or whatever, so he doesn’t have the same kind of anonymity. He got all sorts of calls and emails from people wanting his first-hand account, but he always refused to participate, told them to lose his number and never contact him or his family ever again.

That’s the kind of thing that really rattled Pop – Moe didn’t like that. He’s kind of an immovable object in that way, so seeing him rattled just seemed wrong.

They’d even needed to threaten legal action against one online tabloid who just wouldn’t leave them alone – not that Moe is supposed to know about that, but she’d eavesdropped on a phone call between her dads and Uncle Dustin, who seems to exist as a central point in it all even if Moe doesn’t know why (maybe it has something to do with how her dads always complaining about how he still works for that lab, whatever that means).

“Are you ever gonna tell us what really happened?” Moe asks one day, when it’s just her and Pop in the car on their way home from a basketball tournament in Connecticut.

He sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Hon, can I ask you to stop and consider that maybe we have been?”

And for her dad’s sake, she does, she makes herself run through the mental log of all the lore or whatever she’s unlocked over the years.

Monsters, Russian spies, superpowers, demon-animals, curses, portals to alternate realities, government corruption, evil scientists.

Bullshit, she’d always thought, but…her dad had never bullshitted her before. Why would he choose to start with this?

Moe looked back at him, some kind of question on the tip of her tongue even though she had no idea what to ask, and this time, Pop spared a glance back.

“I’m not telling you everything,” he warned her as he looked back at the highway stretching out endlessly ahead of them, and Moe tried to keep any signs of disappointment off her face, “But I’ll tell you some.”

#ooh Moe-POV how do we feel about this #steve isn’t rattled he’s gearing up to defend eddie to the grave again #moe just can’t tell the difference #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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hellodarling1357 · 4 months

Text

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

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

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

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

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

As always, requests are open!!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 2.6k

~ 528 years earlier ~

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

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

“What did you say?”

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

Rule one, don’t question your High Lord.

Rule two, don’t talk back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

“Who are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eyes and ears. Y/N, dearest”.

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t understand…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

Thanks for reading 🥰

Tag List: @dr4g0ngirl @esposadomd @judig92 @hnyclover @sarawritestories @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @macimads @gorlillaglue25

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

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yourheart-inmyhands · 6 months

Note

I’m here to add onto the idea/request of a previous fic with the archons with a reader who is a fallen god/archon. So instead of reader being banished or overthrown like how the archons may think.. turns out reader/old text books were keeping something from them. Reader faked their death (like another certain archon *cough* *cough* zhongli) and when pressed into why they faked their death. All that reader says is ‘I fell in love with a human centuries ago yada yada and gave up some of my powers and status’ yeah turns out they’ve been human for a couple hundred years and still held onto their god like powers and life span😭. So reader is all like ‘I can be an archon if I do desire again. BUT I grew used to living as a human and I’ve gotten used to you 🫶’ (totally not because they don’t want to resume their duties and explain to their citizens why they were “dead” for a couple centuries)

hi i only did venti and zhongli for this because i'm trying to cut back to 2-3 characters per post so if you want to see the other two feel free to requests them! i'll be sure to attend to it quickly since i technically shorted you on this one, which i apologize for, i hope you still enjoy it :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, mentions of implied violence, mentions of nations being destroyed, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti feels jealous at first, you had loved someone else? But he quickly gets over it, focusing on the fact that you were in fact, technically an Archon. He couldn’t guess which one you were, so you’d have to tell him, but he’d be fascinated to hear about the stories of who your people used to be. It’s pretty clear that wherever you used to is no longer an existing place, the Archon war having wiped out any nation and their God that could not hold themself up against the powerful beings. Venti feels a sick satisfaction at the idea that he may have been responsible for destroying your previous region, he thinks it’s funny.

Venti listens as you tell of your previous home, your people and their land, your first love. He doesn’t care to think of who your first love was, praising the fact that they were dead right now and he was alive and here with you. He tries to remember back to the Archon War, trying to think of who had been responsible for wiping out your nation. It was a long time ago and with many smaller gods culled so that the strongest seven could remain in control. Venti hopes it was him who had the pleasure of destroying your lands, he thinks it would be a cute little coincidence that he had destroyed your people whilst you pretended to be mortal and ran around with a human man. He tells you that you don’t need to return to Archon status, that no one was waiting for you, and if you weren’t careful one of the others might step out of line and execute you. He would never let it happen, but he uses it as a scare tactic, wanting to keep you weaker and more human, below him.

Yandere!Zhongli would find it curious, his extensive memory bringing back the exact playthrough of what had happened back then. He remembers hearing of a lesser god passing, he remembers smiling, taking advantage of your ‘passing’ back then to overtake your land. He doesn’t bring it up to you, not wanting to tarnish his perfect image of himself in your mind.

It was kind of sickening, that Zhongli could remember way back, back when he still went by Morax, back when killing off weaker gods was something more commonplace. You had passed mysteriously, leaving behind a godless nation with no one to protect it. And Morax was all for having the upper hand. He didn’t bring it up as you reminisced about your days in power, contemplating about returning. “Who left is there to return to? In this day and age you couldn’t gather a following without it being seen as a declaration of war to one of the currently throned seven, me included.” It’s a subtle way of putting it but Zhongli made it clear that it was best you continued to lay low, lest physical action need be taken, Zhongli included. The man much preferred that you say weaker and below him on the food chain, in your place, where he could easily assert his control over you.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #venti x reader #venti x male reader #yandere venti x reader #yandere venti x male reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x male reader #yandere venti #yandere zhongli #yandere genshin

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findmeintheferns · 1 year

Text

your bestfriend’s roommate

(part one)

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: you’ve had the same plug for years, but he wasn’t replying & you were desperate. your bestfriend had been wanting you to switch to her roommate for ages so fuck it. problem is though, you weren’t expecting her to be this attractive…

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: a lil bit of smut, drug use (weed), slowish burn, kinda boring sorry lol writers block

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.2 k

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: dealer ellie williams (TLOU) x reader (y/n)

You stare down at your phone for the 100th time only to once again get met with a blank screen. It had been 5 whole hours yet still nothing. You tried not to let it bother you but at this point you were well and truly feeling impatient. You groan, flipping the phone over so you can no longer fixate on it.

Dina notices your frustration, “I’ve told you so many times that my friend is a way better plug, she replies almost instantly. Plus, she’s in my dorm, you can visit me & stock up at the same time.”

You’ve heard this spiel before, but you weren’t sold on it. You liked having a dealer that was strictly business, you’ve never been one to want to stay and chat, you just want to get your weed so you can go home & get high as soon as possible. Plus, you’ve had the same dealer for over 2 years now, going to someone else would be like a betrayal.

You go to reply but Dina beats you to it,

“Yeah, yeah I know. You guys have an unbreakable bond or whatever.”

You give her a small smile, “I mean hey if he doesn’t reply in the next hour, I might get desperate. I told Alex we could smoke & get ice-cream tonight.”

Dina lets out a snort, “Oof yeah, you’ll definitely be needing the weed if you’re spending the night hanging out with him.”

You roll your eyes, not wanting to reply to her snarky comment. You had nearly been dating for nearly a year, but she still hated him. She never really liked him in the first place, she says ‘his vibe is off’, whatever that means. After a little incident with his best friend Mia however, her dislike turned to hatred. Nothing bad even happened, you overreacted. They hung out, you weren’t aware, and you walked in on them hugging. You got upset at first yeah, but he reassured you that it meant nothing, that she was having a bad day and it was just a simple hug. You believe him, so that’s that.

Dina grabs your phone from off the table, distracting you from your thoughts.

“Just let me put her number in your contacts in case okay? Her name’s Ellie.”

“Fineeeee. I need to go anyway. If I don’t study for this exam I’m screwed, I slept through like half of the lectures.” You sigh, stressed about all the content you have to somehow remember over the span of a few days.

Dina pulls you into a hug, “You’re terrible. Good luck with that, I love you dumbass.”

You pull away and laugh at your brutally honest friend as she begins to walk away, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too I guess.”

You grab your bag, placing a tip under your now empty coffee cup before leaving the little café.

You stare at the clock, it’s an hour before you’re meant to meet Alex and your dealer still hasn’t replied.

“Ughhhhhhh. Whatever. Fine. Fuck it.” you murmur, pulling out your phone.

You really didn’t feel like texting a new dealer, you’re pretty introverted already and it seemed like a lot of effort. But what were you supposed to do.

You unlock your phone and open contacts, Ellie’s profile popping up straight away. You send a short text, introducing yourself as Dina’s friend and asking if she had anything to sell tonight, you weren’t in a place to be picky.

To your surprise it was only 5 minutes before you received a reply. Her response was short too;

ellie: yeah, i’ve got a bunch. do you want to come here & pick up? that way you can decide what you want

y/n: oh okay, sure. what time?

ellie: now?

y/n: okay. see u in 5.

ellie: you know where to find me

You did appreciate that she didn’t drag out the conversation, but you were still nervous about meeting someone new. Dina’s dorm room is only a short walk from yours which you couldn’t lie, was pretty convenient if Ellie did become your new dealer. Once you arrive at the door you stop for a moment and take a deep breath in, hoping the conversation would be as short as it always was with your normal dealer. If only Dina was here to make things less awkward, but she had volleyball on tonight.

You knock and the door opens instantly. Suddenly your whole body completely stiffens as your eyes meet the girl opening the door. You know you should be speaking right now, but you’re weren’t mentally prepared for this. She looked absolutely nothing like you had imagined. You don’t know why but you kinda assumed she’d be on the gross & dodgy side. She was in fact the complete opposite. She was wearing baggy grey sweatpants and a tank top that hugged her body. Her short brown hair was half tied up in a little knot, her fringe falling over her face. She must of been getting ready for bed. You really wish Dina had gone into more detail when describing her, you weren’t prepared for her to be this…well, attractive, for lack of better words.

“Y/n? You here to pick up yeah?” Ellie’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, yeah, sorry. Yes I am” you quickly respond, kinda embarrassed about the pause.

“All good, come in and I’ll get you what you need. Sorry about the mess.”

You walk inside the dorm, you had been in there before obviously, but not while Ellie was there. You never even really payed attention to her side of the room yet now you can’t take your eyes off it.

“So, what are you after? I’ll see if I have some.” Ellie asks

“Honestly I don’t mind. Whatever’s your favourite at the moment”

You don’t want to drag this out, you need to head to Alex’s soon and you already feel awkward from the previous interaction.

“Hmmm. Probably blue dream then, it’s mostly Sativa. Really helps with relaxing.”

You shrug “I trust you.”

She puts your weed into a small ziplock baggie and you pay. You quickly try and say goodbye as you walk towards the door but she stops you

“Yeah you’re gonna have to stay at least for a little longer.”

Confused, you stare at her blankly, “Umm, why?”

She returns your glare, “Have you never picked up before or something?”

This kinda offends you and you don’t really know why.

“Yes I have. For your information my dealer just isn’t responding tonight. This is a one off.”

Ellie scoffs, “Huh, lemme guess. Derek is your dealer?”

This takes you back for a moment,

“Yeah… how do you know that?”

She laughs, relaxing her stance and moving to lean back onto her bed.

“Makes sense why you don’t know pick up etiquette. You need to stay here for a little so it doesn’t look sus. Otherwise cops will catch on, just like with your friend Derek. He was lazy and now he’s screwed. You definitely won’t be hearing from him for a while.”

Great. Well that makes sense why he wasn’t responding. You sigh and flop down onto Dina’s bed, staring up at the roof. You really don’t feel like staying here for any longer.

“Aww, am I that terrible to hang out with?”

You roll your head to stare at her, but she’s already looking at you. You wonder what she’s thinking.

“It’s not that” You lie, because it kinda is. “I’m just meant to be meeting up with Alex right now”

She laughs to herself again, “Oh that’s right, Alex, your boyfriend.”

“What’s funny about that? How do you even know that?” you retort, pissed off at this point.

“No, no, nothing. Dina told me is all.” She smiles

You sit up, ready to leave, “Right, well, I need to go. Thanks for the weed.”

You move towards the door but once again Ellie stops you before you can open it.

“Hey, I’m sorry” She says softly “I didn’t meant to upset you, stay a little longer and have a joint.”

The way she’s looking at you makes your stomach churn, but not in a bad way. There’s something so endearing about her, even when she’s pissing you off.

“I really should go, I’ll be late” You respond, trying to not be tempted by the offer.

“It’s on me, just because I annoyed you” she smirks.

You know you should decline, but it’s a lot harder than it would seem.

“Fine. One joint”

So, you didn’t just have one joint, you both shared quite a few. You weren’t sure if it was just the weed that made being around Ellie more manageable, but you were actually having fun. You unintentionally lost track of time, talking about anything and everything. Ellie told you all about her Astronomy major and her favourite astronaut, Sally Ride. You told her about how much you hated math and your inability to focus during lectures. You had moved closer together so that you were both laying down, squished on the same bed staring at the roof. Ellie turned her head to face yours,

“You look pretty stoned” she whispered, a big grin on her face.

She was so close to you it made you nervous, but also kinda excited. She looked incredibly attractive, you kept trying to deny it, but you couldn’t help it. The way she held herself, the way she spoke, her looks, all of it was pulling you in even though you knew it shouldn’t.

You giggled, wanting to reply with a snarky comment but being too high to think of one. You went to take the joint from her, but got distracted by the tattoo on her arm. It was pretty big, it was some sort of moth and a fern. You followed it down until it ended, stopping at her hand. You intertwined your fingers with hers, lifting it up so you could get a better look.

“What?” she laughed, confused as to what you were trying to do.

You didn’t think, you just spoke, “You have really attractive hands Ellie”

For a moment she looked taken back by your comment, but she was too high too overthink it. She moved so that her body was on top of yours, your hands still connected. You felt yourself getting wet, too horny to think about the consequences of what was happening right now. She grinded her thigh into your pussy causing your eyes to roll back as you let out a soft moan. She leaned down and pushed your hair behind your ear.

“Oh yeah?” she whispered, replying to your previous statement “You should see what they can d-“

Ellie was cut off by the sound of ringing. Fuck. You jerk up, grabbing your phone. Surely enough, it was Alex calling. What had you done.

“Fuck, fuck-fuck-fuck” you mumble under your breath, picking up the phone call.

Alex: “Y/n? You okay?”

Y/n: “Alex I’m so sorry I was studying and I must have fallen asleep.”

Alex: “Ah, no weed then?”

Y/n: “No weed, I’m sorry. Rain check?”

Alex: “All good, love you.”

Y/n: “Love you.”

You felt incredibly guilty, probably the most guilty you’ve ever felt in your life. How could you lose track of time like that? How could you act on impulse like that?

Ellie broke you out of your train of thought “Shit. I don’t even know how that happened. Y/n? Are you okay? Fuck I’m sorry.”

You knew you had to leave before you made an even more regrettable decision. Quickly grabbing your stuff you began to walk to the door,

“All good. I need to go. Thanks, erm, for the weed”

Ellie tries to say something else but it’s too late, you are out of the dorm in no time, almost sprinting back to your room.

That night you got barely any sleep, mad at yourself for taking things so far. You knew it was wrong, so why did you feel yourself wanting more.

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #wlw smut #smut #the last of us hbo #the last of us #wlw #fanfic

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ego-meliorem-esse · 1 year

Text

I present to you my years long obsession - female America.

This is not a Nyotalia version it's just a concept of "what if everything is the same but Alfred was born a girl". Like i see so much potential! In a world where all the odds are stacked against her, she despite it all gets to where she is today. Making good and bad decisions along the way.

A lil hc/backstory for my main girl:

• Given name (by dad Arthur) is Elizabeth Felicity Kirkland but during the revolution changes her last name to Jones. Her first name change happens in the 1820/1830s when she changes it to Alexandra, also dropping her second name. (I was young when I came across the name and it means "defender/protector of man" and I was /obessed/ so i just stick to it since she is a loser and just thinks it's a cool sounding name)

• She goes by Alex/Al and I think that's neat :)

• My girl is tall. Like 181 cm tall. Sender but with visible muscles. She does want a bigger behind but her Anglo-Saxon genetics say nah.

• As a child she spent more time in England due to her being a girl so I think even if Arthur was absent he didn't allow her to spend much time alone in the colonies. She resents that ofc

• Just like with Alfred, Alex is very fkn close to Matt even if she forgets to call him or check up on him for months at a time. Al: "Hey man I know I just called a while ago but how've you been? Matt: "you called me 5 months ago..."

• Works at NASA as a part time aeronaitical engeneer. Loves physics, hates chemistry (self projection im sorry)

• During the revolution she dressed up as a boy but the people she worked with knew she wasn't one. People went along with it anyway.

• Other than during the American revolution, she dressed in feminine presenting clothes up until the 1930s. After that it was trousers all the way!

• Alex was never a nurse during wartime but definitely did accountaint work in ww1 and later joined the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) where she stayed until 1943 when she joined her men fighting on the ground ( Conversion to Army status, Women's Army Corps - WAC). That's when she saw actual combat.

• Isn't fond of birds. Canaries are fine. Eagles are unsettling.

• Obsesses over a certan thing/hobby at a time up to a point where she perfects her skill. When she was about 14 (human years) it was the whole freedom and equality of man and all the politics regarding it. In the 1890s her obession was cars and motor vehicles. The 1910s brought a new obsession on womens rights. 1960s was space exploration where she devoted almost all her time researching and working for NASA, disregarding her goverment/state duties as a country. In the 1980s it was the internet. In 1990s she got really interested in the Balkan wars (self insert >:)) for whatever reason. Today her attention is mostly on social media and her attention span ia short af. Still really likes all things tech.

• Hasn't got many properties/real estate. Al does own a penthouse in Seaport, Boston and a late 17th and early 18th century colonial home in Newbury, Boston (that she needs to renovate asap). The only other real state she owns is in California, though modern and recently buit, it's not big nor does she spend much time there.

• Her personality is basicaly Alfred if he grew up as a woman and had to face opression based on sex and inequality that came with it. So still bubbly, extroverted, a social butterfly but also self-serving, idealistic, manipulative sprinkled in with sarcasm, cautiousness and craftiness. Same feckin sense of humour tho.

• In 1783, at the Treaty of Paris in Versailles both her and her father had to sign the document that started her independence (She herself had a human representitive 'cus of her age/sex bla bla but it was mostly formalities). At that signing Arthur gave her a flintlock pistol that he himself used in the 1640s. Not many words were exchanged, he just put it in her hand to keep. She still has it in her attic. Somewhere. She'd find it if she just takes the time to look for it I'm sure.

• In 1889 she straight up did her first war crime/murder of a fellow nation (if you don't count shooting her pops face off at Saratoga in 1777). After an altrication with Antonio that resulted in him insulting and slapping the girl for her audacity and mouthiness, she punched him straight in the jaw. A fight insued where she got ahold of his belt and straight up strangled him. Took her a while to process that and accept it. On the bright side Antonios scilence was heard around the world and while perplexed and insulted, older and influential (mostly male at that point) nations started to feel a glint of respect forming for the young startup.

• Al was given a family pocket watch by her father in the 90s (No more empire for Arthur so he sad :(((((( ) that was suppoaed to go to a firstborn son of a lord as an inheritance symbol. Everyone thought Jack would get it since Matt is techincally not Arthur's son. But even he would be expected to recieve it before Al. Then in an unexpected turn of events, while visiting her grumpy and nostalgeous empire-missing dad, Arthur pulled out the watch while eating stale kebabs in front of the telly and gave it to her casualy without as much as a word (The empire started with her, it shall end with her). She keeps it in her work desk drawer in a wooden box.

• Al and Zee have an interesting relationship. While being different in almost every aspect, there ia a mutual respect for eachother from eachother. While not really being able to see eye to eye, they are sisters in a certain roundabout and very fucked up way. Girls who learned that they are very much judged by their sex despite being daughters of a high ranking British lord. While aware that she will never be Alex/Elizabeth in her fathers eyes, Zee still gets treated as a treasure by her father. Much to Zee's annoyance.

• It's still Matt who's in Alex's shadow. Despite the dificulties she rises above and is the perfect child of an empire. Smart, intelligent, inquisitive, a fast learner and incredibly aware of the political and historical situation at all times. Even despite being a girl and less than a son in the eyes of a 17th/18th century society, she suceeds.

• Arthur wanted a son to come from his colonial endeavours, as all empires/nobility at the time did. And as all other empires at the time had. But ofc karma is a bitch and he's the only empire with an only child being a daughter. Though at first thougrly dissaponted, when he lays his eyes on his daughter for the first time, the only emotion he can feel is /joy/.

• Instead of sowing/knitting Al's education was very much focused on natural sciences, since that is where Arthur quickly realized she exels at. He swapped her Violin and General History of Music lessions with Astrophysics and The History of Astronomy. All in an attempt to stop her from making his ears bleed from the constant prattling about The Four Square Theorem or The Brachistocrone Curve. It only got worse, but his daughter was happy and content.

I have sooooo many more of these jfc i might do more later but for now this is all I can think of.

TLDR: Female America is great and has so much potential as a character hghhhhhhhh

#i needed yo get this out here eventually #its just so faacinatingghh #also no glasses us 1 i cant draw em for ahit and 2 ber sight is relatively good #she looks a bit like arthur but thats on purpose i think #oh welllllll #hetalia #hws america #aph america #nyo america #nyo!america #nyotalia #my art #myart #historical hetalia #alfred f jones

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hanihazeljade · 28 days

Text

TikTok Tim

TikTok has been a blast and of course, Richard has been bothering Tim to make an account for siblings bonding. But Tim got himself a newfound confidence and a new way to irritate Lex.

(CW: thirst traps, TikTok, possible femboy content, swearing)

"Can we just talk about Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne?" A TikToker with million followers said, "Like this dude is seventeen turning eighteen in like 3 months and what he done in his almost 18 years of existence?" It showed a screenshot of a headline way back when he was attending grade school that he skipped two grades, "He skipped 2 years in school and even though he dropped for two years, because some tragedy happen in his life, he still managed to graduate high school the same year in his age range." Which is true, but with all hacking the school systems, he graduated.

"And I also discovered that he is emancipated from his foster parent, Bruce Wayne. Like at first it was insane because you got the Wayne to finance you but look at him, he is one of the biggest shareholder in the Wayne Enterprise and he already got so many praise especially from Lex Luthor," and then screen showed a clip of Lex saying, "I commend the young Drake-Wayne, even he doesn't have any degree in business, he knows how to handle one unlike some people that I know that have bachelors degree. But if you think about it, it must be in his blood after all his mother is Janet Drake, that woman is the scariest socialite in Gotham." And the screen turned back to the TikToker, "Dude doesn't have any degree yet get a praise from Lex Luthor? He is a genius I tell you." and with that the TikTok video ended.

It all started with that one video on how perfect and genius Timothy Jackson Drake. And it snowballed to edits, a thirst trap if you will, of Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. One TikTok video and the whole internet has been sleuthing every single picture, video of the new most eligible bachelor of Gotham City. And with that, #tim drake on TikTok have millions of views in span of 2 days. And it also doesn't help that Tim's life has been exposed in the different tabloids since he was a kid, being a member of a elite society especially in Gotham. He doesn't really know and care but with so many people doing a deep dives in his life, it kind of unsettling.

He scrolled again and it was a thirst trap edit. And he decided to exit the app, enough internet for the day.

"Timmmyy." Dick whined as he was begging Tim to make a TikTok account for 1, he can do those trends with Tim and two, he wants Tim to see those thirst traps edit of himself and it has been seven days straight. And Tim's patience has been wearing thin.

"I will, once I finished these reports." he said with no intention of doing it and gonna said that he forgot about it.

"No, do it now. I know your schemes, Timmy." Tim sighed with the insistence, "Then come back here later for you to remind me then."

++++++

"So, my brother Richard has been keep bothering me to make one of this account and apparently, many people tried to make a little clout so I am going to make one to gather all the clout." Tim said with a blank stare but let out a snort at the last part. "I will probably never upload anything again but yep, hope you are happy, Richard." and with that the video ended. 2 hours later after that video got uploaded, his account boomed to 2.3 million and his first video got featured in some internet forums and articles were being published online.

++++++

"And he finally succumbed to the Tiktok." Jason said as soon as he walked to his penthouse and Tim rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing here, oh mighty Jason?" Tim rolled his eyes, sarcasm is dripping to those words.

"I thought you are better than Dick but it seems like I was mistaken."

"Pot. Kettle. Just because I was on the side of edit Tiktok and you are in booktok doesn't make you the top. You are giving pick-me vibes, ngl."

"Did you really just said ngl instead of not gonna lie?"

"Did I stutter?"

++++++

Tim thought it will be cool if he just upload another Tiktok video after months of abandoning his account. He look at the trends and some old trends and he particularly got stuck in the transition videos and he took liking on the one audio edit of Jade West saying, "What's the prob, dog?", and he is a gremlin for a reason.

So, he was there chuckling at himself with the thought of the internet will never know what's gonna hit them.

+++++++

Tim likes to do a little bit of thirst traps in his content but he also like just to gave his audience what he does in his free time whenever he is done reading and signing the needed papers, like typing in his computer or solving a rubiks cube. And he keeps getting millions of views every time and it is such a ego boost for him.

But he also likes the videos with prominent people in United States, most is just him and Lex Luthor doing stupid shits and every time it will happen, both the stocks of WE and Lex Corp is going up and somehow that made both Tim and Lex being close yet hating each other so much.

The Justice League, specifically Superman, is very much annoyed and not happy about Tim's association to one of the prominent villains in the existence. But all Tim does is send them a lip sync video of him with the audio of, "Do I give a fuck? No, not one. How many fucks do I give? Zero. Exactly, so therefore your comment is irrelevant." And he called it a day. He is still fucking salty of about his worst year of his fucking life. He will not going to forgive those assholes when they didn't even apologise.

But somehow the limit of his TikTok freedom is having him doing a thirst trap in a form of being a femboy. Listen. Tim knows he will never be a brickhouse like Jason and Bruce but god forbid his BMI doesn't go up to 20 even in his peak body mass. He was always has been a twink and he also doesn't like that but apparently, that type of body is a perfect "bottom/submissive" material based on the different manhuas he having been indulge himself the past month.

++++++++

Dick was scrolling at his fyp page that was full of animals, gymnastics and Justice League edits - because, and he got in a video of a guy sitting on a red couch doing a simple transition of throwing his black shoe and then changing his casual fit to a more formal attire and it was a smooth transition on Dick's observation and he subconsciously goes to the comments because he wants a laugh at the thirsty comments.

Did anyone notice how smooth that transition is?

Lol, that is a big ass shoes

He is a mighty fine fella

WHY DOES NOBODY IS COMMENTING THAT THE ACCOUNT IS TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE?

Dick blinked once at that comment. And he blinked again. He closed the comments and swipe left. And the comment is right, it take him on Tim's verified account with now two videos.

When did Tim had a 5.6 million followers?!

Tim already on the same following count as him and he was still definitely gonna get more. Dick is now kind off regretting his decision if putting Tim in TikTok.

+++++++

The next month was shown that Tim doesn't have any schedule that follows his uploading, it seems like he upload wether he like. But the ones that broke the internet is the one thirst trap that Tim posted.

Ashley, look at me

Tim made the hand movements for the transition and from the Saint Laurent sweater, it is Jason's, Dick knows because he just saw Jason wear it like two days ago and it was paired with a black slacks and it turns into a oversized silk dress shirt and it looks like nothing underneath and Dick hopes that there is a boxers underneath because God forbids, he will delete Tim's TikTok account. In that video, it showcases Tim's long, pale, scarless legs, which is a fucking lie, he doesn't how Tim did it but that is a fucking lie. And oh boy was the comments are wild.

He is a sugar baby with the money of a sugar daddy

I'm straight but damn

yeah that's it, I'm bi now

I can hit that any time if he hit me up

Wait! I AM CONFUSED

Am I.. into this?

bottom vibes ngl

Dick stops reading the comments. TIM IS HIS LITTLE BROTHER! Sure he's nineteen but Dick felt uncomfortable looking at his brother's thirst trap, that he made himself. He immediately message Tim to stop posting thirst traps and Tim just reply with, 'Well, you have to face the consequences of forcing me to this damn app'.

He will be damned, he thought.

#tim drake #fanfic #chaotic tim drake #unhinged tim drake #dcu #jason todd #dick grayson #tiktok #batman #ceo tim drake #femboy #thirst traps

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atelierlili · 7 days

Note

What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?

How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?

How many years apart between them in age?

Your headcanon for their name?

Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?

Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.

Thank you :)

@curiousthg

You’ve made a grave mistake because I have so much to say and some art as well(becuase I’m so sane for them I swear)

So I’ve always headcannon that Katniss had her first baby in her late twenties-early thirties. In my head the 5, 10, 15 years go like this. Year 5: Katniss is open to the idea of children now. The games are done, but is Panem really safe yet? Is she ready yet. No, not really. Year 10: okay, Katniss feels safer and braver now. If it happens it happens. They won’t actively try for it and will let nature take its course. Year 15: Toast boy and girl are born within a 5-ish year time span.

Katniss names the girl Marigold for the golden flowers that Peeta planted next Katniss’ Primroses. Marigolds represent warmth, creativity, joy and good luck, but they were also given away during times of grief as a gesture of kindness and solidarity as the flower’s vibrant colours helped ease the pain of grief. Gold is also the colour that represents the bond between the district 12 team that comprised of Peeta, Katniss, Effie, Haymitch, Portia & Cinna. So it’s also carries some sentimental weight as without them and their bonds, this little girl wouldn’t have been born. Of course, Peeta calls the girl Muffin. Because she’s his little muffin. His little cupcake. It’s not until Effie decides that Mary is too bland a nickname for her favorite niece that we get the girl’s most used nickname- Muffy.

Muffy is a bundle of joy to their lives. And Katniss loves being a mother more than she’d thought. Having Muffy made Katniss yearn for the mini Peeta she dreamt of on a beach in the QQ.

Toastboy pops out about three and a half years later. The age gap is so close to be about the same as Katniss and Prim’s that it makes her heart squeeze again. His name is Cress, after Watercress (wait plz don’t leave), the aquatic plant that can be found in bunches at Katniss’ special lake. They are a highly nutritious plant to eat and is said to believe to have medicinal uses like treating swelling and fevers. The name is also a small nod to Annie Cresta and Finnick because of the water connection. His curly blonde hair gets him the nickname Goldilocks from Johanna.

Both children are highly artistic and connected to nature, Katniss teaches them both to hunt, but the kiddos don’t like it as much because they don’t like to hurt animals. It hurts Katniss a little bit, but she’s glad that bloodshed and violence (even to survive) aren’t a daily part of their lives.

Muffy is a performer. She’s definitely daddy’s little girl because she loves to yap. She could yap all day and still find something to talk about. She grows up loving to dance and then wanting to sing and dance- the dreams of making it big in the Capitol as a actress. (To Katniss’ complete and under horror) She’ll definitely develope some complex when it comes to being the Mockingjay’s daughter. Especially when she starts getting movie offers to play her Mom, even when after she tries going out of her way to distance herself from Katniss by going under a different stage name.

Cress is very much not Muffy. He’s a quiet little guy who follows after his big sister like a little duckling. He’s the only one who doesn’t get tired of her yapping and genuinely listens to her. Peeta and Katniss were a little worried when they started noticing that he wasn’t speaking for a while. They go to doctors and they can never find what’s causing this speech delay, but one day he starts talking at the age of 2, and he has the softest most sweetest voice in the world. He’s a very quiet and observant kid, that gets into more trouble than you’d think. While Peeta’s art is very imagery and emotionally (and politically) focused, Cress’s art is not. He’s super talented with a pencil and really skilled at realistic/technical drawings that he’d probably go an illustrate diagrams for scientific textbooks on nature and stuff. Growing up, he probably feels like his art work is too cold and unfeeling compared to Peeta’s splash of life. But in reality, the difference between they art styles are indicative of how they see and filter the world through their art.

Anyway, this is taking waaay to long so here is some early concept art of the toast babies. I’m still messing around with the tones and hues of their design, so none of this is final. I’m probs gonna switch Cress’s skin tone to a more golden undertone as opposed to Katniss’s reddish one to match his hair color, which might get a tad darker (or lighter tbh. In the books Peeta’s an ashy blonde) Meanwhile maybe I’ll give Muffy the redder undertone? There’s something off bout her that I need to keep experimenting with. She screams Movie Katniss baby, not Book Katniss Baby, but maybe that’s only because Jen has blue eyes.

#everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg #everlark fanart #the hunger games #atelierlili #my art #answered asks #toastbabies #Marigold Everdeen-Mellark #Cress Everdeen-Mellark #I’m so normal about them #my OCs

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explicit-tae · 2 years

Text

Cruel Intentions (Part 5)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: mafia!jungkook,

Warning: smut, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, nipple play, handcuffs, iceplay, dirty talk, impregnation kink, sadistic behavior (only slight), creampie, dubcon,

Word Count: 17,174

Description: A look back onto your and Jungkook's relationship days before the wedding - and the decision he makes that causes you to finally escape him.

"You're a man now." Jungkook hears the deep, sinister voice of his father say to him, smirking down to his son. Jungkook wants to laugh - because no 15 year old - freshly turned - would be considered a man. Yet his father had insisted that he was coming of age and would have to act as such. Jungkook is seated in a large, lounge chair in the middle of the dim room. There are mirrors hung on all four walls and his eyes connect with his reflection across from him - the reflection screaming at him to stop this. To not agree with this - to go against his father.

But Jungkook doesn't move - he can't find the will to. No teenager should be inside of here - the Brothel - with their dim red lights to add the lore of seduction and appeal. He can't help the way his heart beats out his chest and the way his palms grow sweaty by each passing second.

Bangtan had an old tradition spanning out for decades. It was an old practice that didn't need to be done any longer - yet his father was nothing but a man that followed old traditional rules. He knows his Hyungs didn't have to do this - he would often wish his surname wasn't Jeon. The Kim's, Park's, Jung's or Min's didn't allow this practice in their homes - they allowed their sons to become men on their own.

"You can enter." he hears his father say as he opens the door and walks out of it.

Jungkook gulps as the girl enters the room. She had to be at least 18 - Bangtan didn't do anything younger than that. He wouldn't call her a woman because her features appeared nearly identical to the girls he went to school with besides the fact that she dressed in skimpy lingerie and saunter seductively into the room and shut the door behind her.

She smiles at Jungkook - one he doesn't return. He doesn't know what to do, so he does nothing when she climbs into his lap. Both of her thighs are hugging his waist closer and her hands roam his body, her lips placing themselves upon his own.

Your eyes widen at Jungkook. His demeanor appears calm after his recant. You're unsure how to speak to him, afraid that you'd end up saying the wrong thing.

After the night you had with Jungkook at the underground casino, you tried anything to get the man to sleep with you. You often told yourself that it wasn't because of Shu-hua - because it wasn't. You at least wanted to go into this honeymoon with him experienced enough. However, Jungkook insisted time and time again that it wasn't the right time - that he was positive you weren't ready. No matter how many times you insisted you were.

Your mind had wandered today after he rejected you once more to how he lost his own virginity. It was different for men unlike women - you've heard many men over the years speak about their virginity and how disposable it was. You pondered if his was the same - sleeping with someone he deemed attractive enough or perhaps a girfriend of his.

That was until he explained that his virginity was lost due to a "coming of age" ceremony his father had put together with a woman of the Brothel. You were astonished at the revelation - even more so when he spoke about it emotionlessly. He declared that it was something that happened for years and he wasn't the exception.

"I-I don't know what to say." you murmur to him. Jungkook rarely speaks of his childhood and past all together - but now you understood why.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Jungkook chuckles.

You're laying down, eyes watching him as he chuckles - as if he hadn't admit his father allowed him to sleep with an older girl just to lose something sacred as virginity.

"It's not everyday you hear something like that." you murmur.

Jungkook shrugs. He places his fingers along your lips and traces them. "I'm not a child anymore." he responds. "And my father isn't alive any longer so...karma I suppose."

You widened your eyes once more but couldn't find the words to say. You allowed Jungkook to trace your lips more as your mind tries to process the information. Was this the reason why Jungkook was the way he is? He had a sick way of thinking at times - but it was as though he was born into toxicity. His father giving away his virginity for decades old tradition to be deemed as a "man" to the man he's became now.

You lick your lips. "Is that something...everyone has to follow?" you ask him after a moment. You couldn't help but ask - you're expected to give this man and child. And no, you were holding off for as long as you could - but it you did ever fall pregnant with a son, the last thing you wanted was for him to lose something sacred to a prositute.

"No." Jungkook responds, glancing away from you. "I have no intentions on continuing that tradition."

You release a sigh of relief. You're unsure why - you told yourself that you had no desire to give Jungkook any children unless it was absolutely needed for the sake of your family. Yet - just the thought of what if. What if you bore a child for Jungkook - a boy at that. You couldn't sit by and allow your son to be treated the same way - go through what his father allowed Jungkook to go through.

But you weren't an imbecil - what Jungkook told you about his father was just the tip of the iceberg. You could only imagine what Jungkook was leaving out and that frightened you more than anything.

"I won't allow our children to go through what I've gone through with that man." Jungkook's words come out cold when he speaks of his father. You tell yourself it's too early to ask - but that doesn't mean you can't listen to him when he announces it. "Nor would I involve them in our drama."

Jungkook swallows. He was just a child when he would tremble behind his elder brother when his father beat his mother. He had no regrets in killing the man that was hurting the mother of his children - but he knew he didn't wish to repeat history. He had no intentions of allowing his children to witness whatever qualms he had with you - no arguments or disagreements. And though Jungkook had no real objective of putting his hands on you, the last thing he ever wanted was for his children to be there witnessing it.

"I want our children to be close like you are with your siblings." Jungkook admits. "I want them to love one another without judgment." Jungkook offers a small smile.

Jungkook knows the reason why you've agreed to stay with him. It doesn't hurt him or make him love you any less - he knows deeply that you are slowly beginning to enjoy your time by his side. The love you had for your family makes him admire you greatly - the fact that you're willing to put your own needs aside for them told him so. You doing anything in your power to attempt to get Hyun-woo help and to even sell yourself to pay off his debts told him you were the perfect woman for him. The perfect woman he could ever ask for the be his wife and the mother of his children.

Jungkook places a kiss on your lips before lifting himself up. "Get up. Hyung says he has a surprised for you."

"Me?" you furrow a brow. "Who?"

"Jimin. Something about," Jungkook lifts his fingers to make air quotations. "making the home appear more domestic."

Soobin enters the station, his eyes following around the amount of men in police uniforms. It was hectic - far too hectic - but that didn't discourage him. He walks to the first officer he could find willing to stop and speak with him - he was an older man that could be around his mother's age. "I-I need to file a police report?" he murmurs, his statement turning into a question.

It was evident Soobin was out of place having never done this before. The older police officers nod his head and led him away from the rowdy crowd of officers. Soobin sighs as he enters a smaller, quieter room and the officer motions for him to sit down.

"Alright," the officer crosses his arm. "go on."

Soobin explains the situation - how he met you months prior while you were pregnant and seemingly afraid of civilization. He explained how his mother and him had allowed you to stay with them without asking too many questions. He even had photo evident proof - his hands trembling as he shows the officer the envelope. When he got to the most recent part of you and Jungkook, Soobin's hand began to clench. He felt as though he failed you as a man - not being able to protect you from the very threat you were running away from.

"So you're telling me this woman...left with her husband?" the officer eyes Soobin who nods. "Willingly?"

Soobin shakes his head. "Y-Yes but she was forced to leave!" he announces. "I just explained the entire situation to you!"

Soobin was becoming stressed about the situation. His mother hasn't returned from the Hospital yet even after you've been gone for a week now. She asked about you and Jin-Seon, ensuring that he was to keep the both of you safe and he had failed not only her - but you and Jin-Seon. The stress of her well-being, on top of the mountain of bills he has to pay for such care and his mind wandering to a dark place when it comes to you.

"There's nothing I can do about this. It's a marital dispute." the officer shakes his head.

"Nothing you can do?" Soobin murmurs, his eyes growing wide. "I just told you she ran from him for months! He pointed a gun at me after breaking into my home and you're telling me there's nothing that can be done?!" Soobin wasn't one to lose him temper - he had a high tolerance for bullshit, yet the words coming from the officer didn't make any sense to him.

"Calm down." the officer raises his hands towards Soobin. "What I can do is take their names down and if something comes up..." the officer makes a few hand gestures in an attempt to speak. "...I might be able to address the situation. As of right now, they're still married and if the woman herself doesn't come forth and state theres any abuse..."

"Nothing can be done." Soobin scoffs. "All I know that his name is Jungkook."

The officer nods his head slowly.

Soobin lifts himself up and leaves the rowdy police station - it was a waste of his time coming here. No one took him seriously - they never did. His mind was ticking as he made his way down the familiar road to his home. How could no one think about how you acted around Jungkook as suspicious? It was obvious he done something to you that harmed you in a way that would make you want to escape him.

As Soobin's eyes catch his home he stops in his track at the unfamiliar black car waiting just outside of it. He cannot see anything inside of it, the tint being fairly dark. There's no tags on the car and his mind is screaming at him to run the opposite way - but he doesn't. His eyes doesn't leave the car as he makes his way to his home - so much so that he doesn't see the figure seated on his steps.

"You must be Soobin."

Soobin nearly jumps out of his skin at the voice he hears. His head snaps to it. The man was tall with broad shoulders - dark hair covering his forehead as he holds one hand a large briefcase and the other inside his pants pocket.

"Who are you?" Soobin attempts to stand tall but it's visibly obvious he's scared shitless. No one visits them and having Jungkook and this unknown man come within a week was like having alarms ringing in his head.

"My apologies. My name is Kim Seokjin." the man chuckles. "I am here to talk with you. Do you mind if we go inside?"

"I do mind, actually." Soobin nods.

Seokjin's smile falters but he doesn't dwell on it. "Alright." he nods. He proceeds to take his hand out of his pocket and hold the briefcase up. "I would like to give this to you."

Soobin glances at the black briefcase and then up at Seokjin. "What is it?" he asks. "And who are you? Why are you here?"

Seokjin opens the briefcase. Soobin's eyes widen at the rolled cash stacked neatly inside. It was as though the briefcase shined a light upon him. It was diffult to look away from that much amount of cash, but he does. "What do you want?"

"Think of this as..." Seokjin shrugs. "A thank you courtesy of Jeon Jungkook. For taking care of his wife and son."

Soobin feels his throat tighten. His heart beats at hearing Jungkook's name mixed with 'wife' and 'son'.

"Get off of my property." Soobin snaps. He feels sick - ready to vomit up anything in a few seconds. He pushes past Seokjin and places his key into the hole to unlock the door. "I don't need that mans money."

Seokjin slams his hand onto the front door just as Soobin was ready to slam it. "I know your mother isn't in the best condition. You can use this for whatever bills come your way."

Soobin clenches his jaw. Jungkook had a great amount of nerve for allowing someone to come here and buy him and his silence - especially using his mother as an excuse as to why he would need it.

"Jungkook thinks he can flash money around and everything would be alright?" Soobin hisses at Jin. "After he broke into my home, put a gun on me and take Y/N and Jin-Seon against her will?"

Jin takes a step back. He hadn't heard about the entirety of the situation concerning Jungkook and Soobin - and he really didn't want to know. The fact that Soobin remained alive still to this day was remarkable - but he can thank Y/N and Jin-Seon being present for that.

"Tell Jungkook there's a special place in Hell just for him." and before Jin can respond, the door is slammed in his face.

Jungkook was no fool to Jimin's action. His hyung done this time and time again for years - and you being his fiance wasn't going to stop him. Jimin was like a magnet that made anyone attracted to him naturally but Jungkook would admit seeing the two of you laugh and smile at one another makes something stir in him. You're seated besides him - too close for his liking - both cooing at the small kitten in your arms.

Jimin had come by the estate with a small, meowing kitten. It's high-pitched meows make Jungkook's head hurt. The black ball of fur was now playing with your wiggling fingers, wide emerald eyes following their every move. He scowls, shaking his head. He wasn't a cat person in the slightest - but he knows you're far too smitten with the little feline now. Your eyes are sparkling at the meowing creature.

"It's so cute!" you coo, lifting the kitten up to rub your nose against it. "I just want to eat you."

"Please don't." Jungkook deadpans, his narrowing eyes staring holes into the kitten.

You roll your eyes at Jungkook but go back to rubbing noses with the kitten. Jimin smiles besides you, placing his hands on the kittens little head and rubbing gently. Jungkook tilts his head, eyes watching Jimin.

"Thank you so much, Jimin!" you giggle to the man, placing the kitten back in your lap. "It's so unexpected."

"I thought you two needed something to make this place," Jimin glances around the modern estate - all dull colors of black and grey. "more domesticated. It's far too quiet."

"Only because Soo-ah isn't here." you murmur but smile at Jimin regardless. "I'm sure Rasu will liven this place up."

"What the hell is a Rasu?" Jungkook scoffs, crossing his arms. Jimin raises a brow, simply knowing his dongsaemg was jealous of a kitten. He hated when the attention wasn't on him - just like a child.

"His name." you declare, glancing at Jungkook just to roll your eyes at him. "It's cute."

"It is." Jimin nods in agreement, sending Jungkook a smirk. "We should get him a bell for his collar. We don't want Kookie to step on his."

Jungkook snickers. It would be a great idea - the kitten was jet black except for the small white stripe on its neck. He would blend in far too well and he wouldn;'t hear the end of it if he accidently stepped or sat on the small feline.

Jungkook couldn't do anything while he sats ignored while you and Jimin play with the kitten. Jimin was a natural people pleaser and his mind tells him that it wasn't fair that you warmed up to Jimin easily with just a kitten as a gift while he had to pay for your acceptance. Maybe it was childish to think of it. Jimin wouldn't try anything with you - with another woman from a man he didn't care for? Yes. But not you - but that doesn't make the boiling in his blood lessen.

Day after day while you keep the kitten in the home, Jimin has visited. He had brought far too many gifts for the kitten - different types of wet food and toys. Even though you had dragged him to the nearest pet store to get everything for the kitten - customed kitten shirts, toys the damn feline touched once and never again and mountains of wet and dry food and treats.

Jungkook sat in disbelief when you and him sat at the breakfast table and you placed a bowl of food on the chair next to you for the kitten to eat, claiming that he also deserved a chair for himself.

Jungkook was growing irritated with the kitten. It was obvious that he had made himself far too at home. He didn't sleep in the expensive cat tree he was forced to buy - or the expensive cat bed or wall hammock you insisted the feline needed. He preferred to sleep in cabinets he had no idea how he got into. That, or the feline made his way inside the bathroom - somehow - and would sleep right inside the tub.

Jungkook was tired of hearing how grateful you were of Jimin for gifting you the gift of Rasu - the small emerald eye cat that lived a better life than most adults. Jimin still came by to check on Rasu - but Jungkook understood that it was just to fuck with him. Jimin enjoyed riviling his dongsaeng just because he knew he could. Jungkook was an extrememly jealous man.

So much so that he found himself now inside a pet store with Soo-ah, searching for his own gift for you and him. He could make his own home domesticated.

"Uncle! What about this one?" Soo-ah cries, her wide eyes staring at a puppy.

Jungkook shakes his head as he tears his eyes away from the tiny tea-cup puppy. "That one is too small, Soo-ah. I might sit on him."

Soo-ah pouts but goes onto the next one.

Jungkook already had a cart full of items. Dog toys, collars food and supplements. Now all he needed next was the dog. Having a pet before having children with you would show you that he too can be responsible - show you how domesticated he could be.

"Uncle!" Soo-ah tugs on his hand. "Look at this one! It's so cute!"

Jungkook nods in agreement. The puppy was black and brown and tilts its head at them as they look through the small cage. Soo-ah wiggles her hand between cage to pet the puppys head.

"I think I want this one." Jungkook smiles to himself. The puppy appeared calm enough and eventually he'd be a bigger dog.

As Jungkook enters the home with Soo-ah in one arm and Bam - the energetic puppy - in the other. You're seated in the sitting room with Jimin - for whatever reason - when he saunters through.

"Hyung," Jungkook smiles tightly. "you're here as if you don't have your own home. Or wives." Jungkook murmurs. "Do I need to set a room for you?"

Jimin snickers and nods. "That would be nice." he retorts, offering Jungkook a sickly sweet smile. "Is that a dog?"

"Yes it is." Jungkook beams. "I'm more of a dog person."

You furrow your brows at Jungkook, eyes watching the dog sniff around in his surroundings.

"How are we going to have a dog and a cat together?" you ask. You refused to allow Rasu on the ground with such a big puppy.

"Y/N, baby, that's just a myth of cats and dogs being enemies." Jungkook waves you off. "We're pet parents now." he beams, eyes glancing at Jimin.

Jimin wants to laugh at Jungkook's jealousy. What he was willing to do to one up him was amazing, but it was fresh to see Jungkook happy with you. It was also great to see you - the same woman who tried time after time to escape him - now adjust to your surroundings. Soo-ah loved Jungkook with all her heart and Jimin knows he feels the same. If Jungkook only knew that each time he visited you and Rasu that all you and he ever did was discuss him, his dongsaeng wouldn't be jealous now.

But Jimin wouldn't tell Jungkook - it was a private conversation, after all. He would simply continue watching how far Jungkook would go to attempt to win you over when you were already.

You sigh but smile at Jungkook. "What's his name?"

"Bam!" Jungkook declares and the dog barks as if recognizing his own name.

You giggle and nod your head. "Bam and Rasu." you coo, placing the kitten on the ground next to the puppy who paid the small feline no mind and continued to sniff around.

Jimin places his hand beneath his chin as he watches you and Jungkook. He could only pray Jungkook doesn't do anything to make you lose you - because little did the younger know, he had you right where he wanted you.

Soobin carries the flower arrangement in his arms - nothing special, a few flowers he embarrassingly picked along the way to give to his mother. He was informed she was awake now and he wished nothing more than to see her. The halls were quiet - surprisingly so - as he makes his way to her room.

Days have passed since he met one of Jungkook's...men? Friend? He wasn't sure who the tall man with broad shoulders was to him, all he did know was that he had the audacity to come with a briefcase full of money. It made his blood boil to think that he could be bought off by Jungkook - the man who taken you from him.

Soobin wasn't a possessive man. You were your own person, he was aware. Yet you cried when you left with him. The months he has gotten to know you, he hasn't seen a ring on your finger. You haven't spoke of your past with Jungkook but Soobin was no idiot to see that whatever he's done to you was nothing but abuse.

Soobin rounded the corner, his mother's room the last one to the right. He glances at the clock on the far end of the hallway and sighs. There was still no word from the police - he called back hours later asking if they were willing to investigate and now Soobin knows that "We're looking into it" means that they weren't. It was a ploy to shut him up.

Soobin straightens his back as he reaches his mothers room. The door was cracked only slightly and he pushes it back to see his mother smiling. Who she was smiling at was what caught him by surprise. "Who are you?" Soobin asks, eyeing the man.

Byeol turns her eyes to glare at her son. "Don't be rude, Soobin." she hisses lowly. She then turns to the unknown man and smiles. "This is my son - Soobin." she introduces.

The man turns his eyes to Soobin and nods. Soobin eyes his appearances - all black attire with jewlery that appeared more expensive than anything he could even think to afford. The man stood tall - even if he was shorter than Soobin - and eyes him with intense eyes, but the smile on his lip never falters.

"Why is he here?" Soobin asks his mother, not caring how rude he was sounding. The last time he saw an unknown man, it had to do with Jungkook. He didn't need any of his men coming around his mother.

"Soobin." Byeol's words were stern and final. It told him he needed to stop with his disrespect.

"My name's Park Jimin." the man holds out his hand to Soobin who hesitantly grabs it - only does so because his mother is watching him. "I'm the man who has loaned your mother the money for her surgery."

Soobin snatches his hands away and turns to his mother. "A loan shark?" he hisses. "I thought-"

"You have enough things to worry about with Jin-Seon and Y/N." Byeol shakes her head. "I don't need you worrying about me, as well."

Jimin hums to himself as he smiles at Soobin. Soobin is no fool to catch the glint in his eyes and his breathing quickened. He goes to place the flower arrangement on the nearest table to see that he was late. There was already one there - this one was expensive. He couldn't name any of the flowers arranged. "W-Who brought this?" he asks his mother, eyeing the flowers.

"A colleague of mine." Jimin spoke up.

Soobin shoves his flowers next to it and turns to face Jimin.

"Jeon Jungkook." Jimin stares straight at Soobin as he speaks. "He's also an investor such as myself. We love to give families a second chance and lift a little weight off their shoulders."

Soobin feels his palms go sweaty under Jimin's gaze. Whoever Jungkook was, he had an abundance of influence. That told Soobin that this was a powerful man that had the world at the palms of his hands - and an unlimited supply of men willing to come to his aid.

"Can I speak with you outside, Jimin-ssi?" Soobin murmurs, not waiting for a response before he walks out the door himself. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, contemplating how he was going to explain this to his mother when she returned home.

Soobin hears the door close behind him. He turns to face Jimin to see the man have a bored look on his face. "Tell Jungkook he has no right to keep interfering in my life." Soobin hisses at Jimin who only smirks. "I'm serious!" he then hisses at the smirking man. "I don't want his money or yours."

"You know," Jimin leans away from the door. He takes a step towards Soobin "you're ungrateful. I haven't even heard a thank you come from your lips." the man says, tapping Soobin's lip with his index finger - just to fuck with the fuming man.

"Don't touch me!" Soobin hisses, clenching his fist. He takes a few steps back from Jimin and hisses once more, "What the hell do you want? What does he want? He's taken everything already-"

"You mean Y/N?" Jimin furrows a brow with a scoff. "You mean...another man's wife? My dongsaeng's wife at that?" Jimin shakes his head and soon he's laughing - an amused laugh that does nothing but mock Soobin. "You were trying to play house with a woman and a child that didn't belong to you?"

Soobin gulps. Jimin's laugh makes him want to do nothing but wipe that smirk off of his lips - but if Jimin was anything like Jungkook, that only meant that he was armed and just as narcissistic as him. Possibly even pyschotic.

"Cat got your tongue?" Jimin pouts his lips, feigning pity. "Aww, that's sad. Regardless, boy, my dongsaeng did you a favor by sparring your life. Of course, you can thank Y/N and Jin-Seon for being there for that." Jimin steps closer and with each step Soobin takes one back. "Jungkook would never put his wife and child in harm's way. And now, they're better off without," Jimin eyes Soobin up and down, a snicker leaving his lips. "you. And that run down shack you call a home."

There it was once more - someone talking down on him and the home they lived in. He doesn't want to show it, yet it does cause a sting in his heart at the harsh words Jimin says. Similar to the ones Jungkook said to him. It was evident what they meant by it - he wasn't good enough for you. He didn't have the money and power Jungkook had. He couldn't afford expensive cars and couldn't have you live in a high-end mansion that he was positive Jungkook had you in. By the way Jungkook scoffed at the home they resided in and stated frankly that his son could never stay there. Now Jimin repeating it...

"What do you guys want from me?"

Jimin catches the crack in the young boy's voice. He pitied him, of course. He was innocent in this - it wasn't Soobin that took you and held you hostage. You left on your own accord. However, Jungkook would blame him until his last breath out of pure rage and jealousy. Soobin had the luxury of being with you while pregnant with Jin-Seon. He had the chance to witness you grow larger as the months pushed along and saw the pregnancy glow. It's one of the best moments to be around your wife as she's carrying your child - he would know having not just one wife and daughter, but two.

Jungkook knowing that Soobin - someone he deemed lesser than himself and not having the resources he did - had the chance to be with you and hold his child before he did...Jimin shakes his head. Soobin was a lucky man to be alive today and again, Jin-Seon and you were his only weaknesses.

"Stop going to the police." Jimin finally answers. "They aren't going to do anything but tell us."

Soobin stiffens. He tries to look for any detection that Jimin was playing any mind games on him - but he wasn't. No wonder the police didn't appear the least bit concerned with your whereabouts.

"You're lucky he called my hyung and not Jungkook." Jimin continues. "Even though he promised Y/N that he wouldn't hurt you. The 6 of us made no such promises."

Jimin could see the glint in Soobin's eyes - a glint of a man recollecting his own life before his eyes. He felt for the young boy, once again he had no dog in this fight. He appeared to have a good soul - rare for a man in this day of age - yet he couldn't allow him to come between you and Jungkook. The sheriff being on their payroll only meant they had the advantage, but there was no saying what lengths Soobin would go through in his attempts to bring you back to him.

"Your mother's surgery bills have already been paid for." Jimin added. "You're alive and well. So is she."

A bitter chuckle leaves Soobin's lips. "You'll kill me?" he asks, his eyes on the ground. "For caring for a friend?"

"I'll kill you if you try to come after Y/N or my nephew - yes." Jimin responds without a second thought, giving him a nod.

Jimin wasn't one for threats nor did he prefer killing - but he wasn't against it. Jungkook was happy again - crawling out of the dark hole he placed himself in while you were gone. He actually smiled again and when he would visit to see Jin-Seon, there was never a time Jungkook's eyes would leave the baby for long. Any whine had Jungkook in a frezny wondering what was wrong with his son. Jungkook never turned down anything that involved Jin-Seon - a changing, washing or feeding. It reminded Jimin of himself when he first became a father and it was truly a beautiful sight to see.

"I'll be taking my leave." Jimin announced. He doesn't wait for Soobin to respond before he turns down towards the hall.

Soobin watches Jimin's back, his mind clouded with the new found information. He gulps and sniffles before realizing that he's crying. Jimin's figure get's smaller by the seconds until he can no longer see him nor hear his footsteps.

A month has passed far too quickly for your liking. One moment you're in the large estate with Jungkook, agreeing to marry him for the sake of your family to now depart the country and entering Kefalonia, Greece. How Jungkook managed to get a hold of a private plane for your family to come shouldn't shock you as much as it does. When Jungkook stated that your wedding would be the best - far better than his Hyungs - you didn't believe how much he was willing to put into it.

You never been to Greece before - the brightness of it all with the clearness of the water marvels you. However, you're nervous as the seconds go by. You never imagined yourself getting married - and even though this isn't the ideal marriage moment, you're still fearful. You try to ignore the circumstances of why you agreed to be with Jungkook and at least make an attempt to enjoy yourself. Greece was beautiful and knowing Jungkook, he was paying a hefty amount of money to just win the one-sided competition with his Hyungs.

Your siblings were astonished by the luxury of the land you were residing on - all having several condos for each family not far from the beach. You loved seeing their faces of happiness to be away on vacation. None of you ever vacation outside of the country somewhere luxurious. It makes your decision to be with Jungkook a greater satisfaction - to know that you weren't just thinking of yourself but of your entire family. You just wished Hyun-woo could be here but understanding that he was in rehab was the best gift you could be given.

Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist as you were staring out the large window of the master bedroom. You could see the others enjoying their stay, already playing at the beach. Soo-ah and Hye-jin were burying Namjoon in the sand while Momoka and Hee-sun were dipping their own feet into the water, babies in their arms.

"Do you want to go and join them?" Jungkook asks. He places his chin on your head as he speaks. He relished in being with you now with only a day away from being married to you.

You shake your head. You turn away from the window and make your way to the bed, Jungkook following behind you until he's laying beside you, arms wrapped lazily around you. He inhales the scent of your hair - the vanilla aroma engulfing his nostrils. It always calms him - the familiar scent of you.

"I'm nervous." you admit, eyes blinking to the ceiling. "I don't like to be stared at."

Jungkook snickers, but grips your waist.

"I'm serious." you groan, turning away on your side away from him. "What if I fall on my face?"

"I'll fall then." Jungkook chuckles. "So we'll both look a mess. Together."

You roll your eyes but smile slightly. You place your hand over Jungkook's that is rubbing along your thigh tracing random shapes. The silence that falls between you and Jungkook is comfortable and welcoming. You would have never thought that you'd be here with him willingly after your life over the course of months - nearing a year. It's insane to think that you once despised Jungkook to not minding if you did spend life with him.

Yes, there was the thought of what if's. What if you didn't get involved with Jungkook? What if you didn't go to the underground Black Market and offer up your virginity - or worse, what if Jungkook wasn't there and you would've been bought by some older man? You wouldn't be in what you were now - but was this truly as bad as you initially thought? Your family adored Jungkook and they now lived comfortably. You didn't have to work - not that you minded it - and it was relaxing not living check to check.

'Jungkook could be worse.' you tell yourself, snickering mentally. You couldn't believe you laid with him now willingly and even taking his side. Jungkook could be extremely more controlling than he was. Sure, he chipped you - but he also chipped himself to make you comfortable with getting it. Yes, he forced you into a marriage - but another man wouldn't do what he's done for your family. You couldn't imagine another man managing to get your brother out of prison and into rehab.

Jungkook was a patient man. He didn't force you into anything you truly didn't want. Your mind tells you this because, truly, what man wouldn't have coherced you into sex by now? Sometimes you think you're the one constantly forcing yourself upon him.

Your mind tells you that maybe living side by side with Jungkook wouldn't be too bad. Maybe you'll grow to love him like he claims to love you. Maybe you could eventually give him the children he often speaks of - but not too soon. You didn't forget the birth control pills in your possession, grateful that Jungkook hadn't found them just yet. You would give him the benefit of the doubt as a husband - but you can't trust him just yet as a father.

"What are you thinking about?" Jungkook's words startles you back into reality.

"About you." you admit, leaning back against him. "And us."

"Good things?"

You nod.

"Good." Jungkook murmurs. "You're going to look beautiful in the dress."

"You already saw me in it." you retort. You turn to face him again to find him glancing down at you. "Defeats the purporse of complimenting me."

"Never." Jungkook declares. "It doesn't matter if I already saw you in it. I'm still going to cry."

"You're being dramatic again." you laugh, but the gesture does make your heart warm. "If you cry then that'll make my sisters cry. Then I will cry and I can't risk ruining my makeup."

Jungkook laughs aloud, throwing his head back. You follow suit, joining in on the laughter. You feel Jungkook brings you closer to him. His embrace is warm and it reminds you of the many times you and him were entangled like this - far too many times to count.

You're the first to lean in. You connect your lips to his urgency. It wasn't long before the two of you were tangled together, hands roaming the other body. You're left breathing heavily when Jungkook disconnects your lips, just to kiss along your neck, even nibbling. His hands raise to squeeze your breast through your clothes, lips kissing your collarbone.

Jungkook hums, swirling his tongue onto your skin. "Wanna taste you." he huffs.

You could only nod your head. You weren't capable of deny Jungkook when it came to his tongue.

Jungkook doesn't waste any time in tugging the shirt off of you. He dives into your breast, wrapping his mouth around one nipple while pinching and tugging the other. Arching your back, you huffed out a moan at the sensation.

Jungkook could suck onto your breast for hours - he was just a man. There wasn't any pleasure he got from it - but to get to see you squirming beneath him, moaning out his name and getting to touch you adds to the excitement. He's had sex with many women - it came with the job - but couldn't care less if he pleasured them enough. Yet with you, pleasuring you solely was enough for him to cum. Your moans were always so sweet for him and they often replayed in his mind time and time again - even when the two of you weren't intimate.

Jungkook's fingers trail between your legs, lightly tapping your clothed clit to tease you. He trails his lips down, fingers hook under your shorts and tugs them of, your panties going along with them.

Jungkook grunts when his fingers feel just how wet you were already for him. As much as he enjoyed kissing and sucking your skin - it was his favorite to get to watch the way you squirmed while he fingered you. You were tight, but his fingers always entered almost effortlessly.

Jungkook hovers above you, his eyes trained on the way his fingers play with your clit. Your stomach is churning at the pace he sets - Jungkook always dove right into it but you never could complain. You relished when Jungkook put your needs before his own, content with not getting anything in return from you.

Jungkook places two of his fingers into his mouth and shivers. "I'm gonna taste you now." he rushes between your legs without a second thought, tongue flat against your clit. Both of his hands roughly slap against your thighs to allow him entrance before he goes to ravishing you.

You're arching your back in seconds - Jungkook's tongue always has this effect on you. He doesn't hold himself back, his head swinging back and forth while his tongue assaults your clit. The squelching sounds mixed with your sweet moans are an added bonus. You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging on it.

Jungkook moans against your clit. He adored when you pulled his hair, his high tolerance of pain being nothing but a blessing for him. He loved when you slapped him, pulled his hair - even the light choking. It gave him the masochistic pleasure - only when it came to you, however. He could never allow a woman he didn't love be dominant over him. Besides, you thrived in being sadistic to him.

Jungkook wouldn't say he was a complete masochist - a woman like you always had to be put in her place. You loved to be choked just as much as you loved choking him - he would say the two of you were truly meant for one another.

Jungkook lifts himself from between your legs and places a quick kiss upon your lips. You yelp when Jungkook flips you around, his back now firmly on the bed and he's tugging you to sit upon him. Jungkook's guilty pleasure was you sitting on his face - maybe it was the lack of air he had, but he would never complain. It was a good way to go out.

You squeeze Jungkook's thighs, biting your lip at the pace Jungkook sets as he licks and kisses on your clit. You lick your lips, eyes focusing on the bulge in Jungkook's shorts. You place your hand upon it, squeezing it tightly. You could feel the vibration from the groan Jungkook does - and it entices you to do it again. You dip your hand beneath it to get out his cock and it sprungs out. His cock was always so pretty - the tip already dripping with pre-cum.

Jungkook's hands rub your body, the sensation of your naked skin on his palm sends goosebumps and shivers around his body. His fingernails dig into your thighs when he feels your tongue - so warm and soft - against the tip of his cock.

You wrap your tongue around the tip of Jungkook's cock, moaning at the salty taste of pre-cum. You would've never thought you'd enjoy sucking cock - especially Jungkook's. The way he would whimper and moan each time you'd wrap a simple tongue around his cock gives you the power to suck harder and faster - even deeper.

Which is what you do.

You bring his entire cock into your mouth and bob your head. You could feel the saliva dripping down your chin within seconds, but it does nothing but turn you on. Your hands wrap around the length of his cock and stroke him as you suck.

Jungkook curses, jutting his hips. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lips. You always knew how to suck him so well, always using your throat to pleasure him. You didn't understand how much he adored you - how much he was willing to do for you. You had him in the palm of your hands - literally and metaphorically.

Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you, curling them. He kisses your clit as he pumps his fingers inside of you. You're tight, yet he could still feel you clench around his fingers and he couldn't stop himself from thinking how tight you'd be around him.

You lean back against Jungkook, cock in your mouth but you couldn't suck. His fingers pumping inside of you clouds your mind. You feel it deep in your stomach - the churning and rumbling. You begin to breathe heavily and you remove his cock from your mouth. You hung your head, fidgeting in his grasp.

Jungkook is positive that you're going to cum - he knows your body well now. You're jerk in his embrace, shake your head, clench around him then...

"Fuck!" you hiss, arching your back as you were cumming around his fingers.

Jungkook hums, removing his fingers from inside of you. He licks them, closing his eyes and sighing. He was horny - excessively so. But, as you rest he was going to rub one out in the shower before dinner - it appeared to be enough for him. As Jungkook places you onto the bed beside him, he goes to kiss your cheek. Before he could, you turn your head towards him and place a kiss upon his lips.

Jungkook melts into the kiss. He could feel your hands grip his shirt to bring him closer. "You seem happy." Jungkook chuckles against your lips. "And horny."

"I am." you murmur, kissing along his jaw. "Shouldn't you be?"

Jungkook licks his lips when he feels you nibble on his neck. "I am."

"Then we should do something about that."

Your hands trailing lower and lower with your lips kissing, sucking and nibble has Jungkook weak.

"What do you suggest we do?" Jungkook gulps. He understands fully what you mean - but we wants you to say it.

"Would it be too vulgar to ask you to fuck me?"

Jungkook shakes his head. He laughs aloud, placing a hand onto his head. You knit your brows at his laugh, glaring at him.

"I'm not fucking you." Jungkook says. "That sounds...too harsh."

You sigh.

"Don't look at me like that." Jungkook quips. "You're a virgin. I can't just fuck you like some animal, baby." Jungkook places a hand on your cheek. "It has to be more special than that, don't you think?"

You nod your head slowly, shrugging your shoulders. You were never the daydream type of girl that imagined rose petals and candles for her first time. But your mind was telling you that you understood why Jungkook doesn't want to go through with it. He was a man that didn't have a say in the way he lost his own virginity - no matter how desensitized he's become of it.

"I don't want to be a virgin on our Honeymoon." you claim. "I want to know...what I'm doing."

"You're not going to be a pro in a few days." Jungkook couldn't help but laugh. "What's the rush? You don't need to do this because you think I want to."

"I'm not." you assure. "Is it bad that I want to have sex with my fiance?"

Jungkook hums, he likes the sound of you calling him that. Still, he couldn't fathom just fucking you - not while you still had a sense of purity left. He didn't want you to assume he wanted nothing but sex from you or that there was a time limit.

Even though there was - in a way, but he doesn't know yet how to tell you.

"It'll hurt." Jungkook murmurs.

"Eventually it'll feel good."

"You aren't going to let this go, huh?" Jungkook's thumb is now rubbing your cheek. He watches your lips tug into a smile before he exhales. "If that's what you want...then alright."

Widening your eyes, you lean forward to stare at him. Jungkook continues to lay down, watching your expression.

"Okay...how do we do this?" you ponder aloud and all Jungkook can do is laugh.

You couldn't keep your hands off of Jungkook - even after it's only been 2 days - leaving just a few more until your wedding. The first night was awkward - weird even. You weren't sure how to feel once it was done and over with - but you recall thinking to yourself; "Was that it?" The act of virginity always appeared to be an act that would be either the best moment in life or the complete worse - to you it was right in the middle. It wasn't bad - but it couldn't be good with Jungkook's nerves getting to him. He was nervous and didn't want to hurt you - constantly asking if you were okay and needed him to stop.

However, you were the first one to initiate the sex that same night, trying to get the feel of it. It wasn't as awkward as the first time and Jungkook was surprised how well you were growing accustomed to him. So much so that you would request being on top of him, asking questions if it felt good and were you doing everything right - and he said yes each time. There wasn't a wrong way to ride him, he'd enjoy it either way.

By the fifth time the two of you had sex there wasn't any awkwardness or embarrassment. You went back to your sadistic ways - slapping him the way he enjoyed, pulling and tugging on his hair that had him cumming and wrapping your soft hands around his neck. He was convinced that there was nothing you could do to him that he wouldn't love - that could be deadly for him, yet he didn't care.

Jungkook remained astonished at your high sex drive. He wasn't complaining and never would when it came to you, yet he'd never come to the conclusion that you would want him all the time. When you weren't enganging in sex, you often asked questions about it - pondering just what he liked to do in bed. That's how Jungkook finds himself here with you in Greece in a sex shop. The embarrassed look on your face makes him laugh and it doesn't help that he keeps teasing you about it.

Sex shops usually didn't have carriers - yet the nice clerk had offered a bag once she noticed Jungkook holding more than 5 items in his arms.

"Who's getting handcuffed?" you murmur towards Jungkook as he throws a pair of cuffs into the carrier.

"Doesn't matter to me." Jungkook smiled - and he meant it. Just the thought of you cuffing him has him thinking of ways to not get excited just by the thought.

But even the thought of you being cuffed to the bed excites Jungkook once more. He gulps.

"You can get stuff, too." Jungkook assures. "Whatever you're into."

You bite your lip. It wasn't like you thought about coming to a sex shop and exploring their vast items.

Jungkook watches intently as you look around, touching stuff before shaking your head.

"You don't have to be embarrassed." Jungkook places a hand on your shoulder. "If you see anything you like then we can get it. If not then it's alright."

You and Jungkook leave that shop with many new items. You grabbed nipple clamps and a blindfold, always being intrigued by them. Jungkook grabbing a vibrator surprised you, but he only gives you a toothy grin when you ask about it. It was a tough night attempting to get away from the amount of people - Jimin insisting the two of you attend an event on the beach while Taehyung asks if you wanted to accompany him to a jazz show. It was nearly embarrassing to say you were blowing everyone off just to have sex with one another.

As you enter the room, one thing soon leads to another and somehow you're naked with Jungkook aggressively fingering you. He's hovering above you, eyes intently watching the way you're clenching around his fingers. You're so tight that he adds a third finger, arousal dripping down his wrists. He's thankful that you've agreed to be hand-cuffed, it makes the entire situation much more exciting.

"Let's try something new." your ears catch Jungkook's voice - a moaning statement.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you and lifts himself off of the bed. You watch as he goes towards the black bag of sex toys. You lick your lips and gulp. Jungkook returns with a smirk on his lips, the blindfold in one hand and the vibrator in the other.

"Let's put these on you." Jungkook hums and climbs upon the bed.

You nod, offering a short smile. Jungkook places the blindfold over your eyes - the cotton mask hiding the world around you. You could hear and feel Jungkook moving around the bed. "I'm going to try something, alright?"

You nod your head and continue to wait. You hear clanking metal and now are left even more confused until you feel a sudden coldness on your nipples. You yelp and jerk your back - startled by the sudden coldness.

"Have you ever heard of iceplay?" Jungkook's words come through your ears and you conclude that he's directly next to you.

"N-No."

"We'll see if you like it." Jungkook murmurs.

You feel Jungkook trail the ice along your breast and nipples, his lips - warm and wet - kissing and sucking along your neck. The cold touch of the ice feels weird upon your skin, but you wouldn't say it doesn't arouse you. It brings out an odd erotic feeling within you that has you moaning for more - and Jungkook delivers. He trails the ice along your belly button and between your thighs before he stops at your clit. You're shivering at the feeling, but you don't want him to stop.

Jungkook loved observing your reaction to the ice - it was expressive as always and he knew you liked what he was doing. It was amazing to see you now - handcuffed and allowing him to do whatever he desired to feed his sexual desire for you, the way you'd moaned his name so lovingly - he would do anything in his power to keep you comfortable and safe just as you felt at this moment.

Jungkook kisses your cheek before taking hold of the vibrator. He goes between your legs, eyes catching the way you bite your lip. He turns on the vibrator, the buzzing sound loud and powerful. He kisses your clit before placing the vibrator against it.

You arch your back, releasing a loud moan. Your stomach sucks in as you inhale, the vibrations driving you crazy. Jungkook holds your thigh open each time there's an attempt from you to close them - his eyes adoring the way you drip onto the bed.

"I want you to cum, baby." Jungkook mumbles. He removes his hand from your thighs to enter 3 fingers inside of you.

You jump at pressure and in normal jungkook fashion, he doesn't hesitate in pumping inside of you. The vibrations along your clit mixed with Jungkook fucking his fingers into you has you tugging against the handcuffed restraints. You shake your head side to side - wishing you could watch Jungkook between your legs, but the blindfold adds even more arousal to you.

Jungkook presses the vibrator harder against your clit, his fingers not halting their pumping. "I can feel you clenching around my fingers." Jungkook chuckles, curling his fingers. "Are you going to cum?"

You nod your head hastily - you could feel the pressure coming from deep within you. Jungkook knows when you were close to cumming - the way you'd begin to gasp for air, clench your stomach and around his fingers.

"I love to see you cum for me, baby." Jungkook moans - his own cock was hard and throbbing, itching to just be inside of you. He was sure that he would be content with just watching you be pleasured - but now knowing how your walls felt; so tight, wet and warm...

Jungkook groans at the sight of you dripping onto his wrists, your throat releasing a loud moan. You're curses out lowly to yourself as your high gets to you. Jungkook nods his head with a smirk on his lips. "You're so beautiful when you cum for me, baby. I love it."

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you and the vibrator from your clit, turning it off. You're twitching while attempting to catch your breath. You lean your head back once you feel Jungkook remove the blindfold from your eyes. You blink a few times to adjust to the sudden light - Jungook's smirking down at you.

"Take these cuffs off of me." you murmur to Jungkook with a bite of your lip.

Jungkook does just that, making sure to rub your wrists to make sure they weren't hurting from being in the same position for who knows how long. "Are you-" Jungkook feels your palm connect to his cheek and he's stunned - but it doesn't frighten nor anger him. He feels you climb into his , wrapping your legs around him.

You crash your lips onto his and Jungkook wastes no time. He moans when he feels your tongue enter his mouth, the both of you fighting for dominance - but he had no problem with allowing you to dominate him.

As your tongue dances with his, your fingers catch Jungkook's hair and you yank on it. The moan that the man lets out makes you clench around nothing. There was something about Jungkook that you admire - the way he allows you to hit him as hard as you wanted and never does anything about it. No matter how hard you'd pull his hair, he would just smile at you with lust filled eyes. When your hands wrapped around his neck and he coughed for air but the way his hands would rest lovingly on your waist - it excites you.

But even you had your moments. As much as you relished witnessing Jungkook - the powerful man who had men at his disposal - become completely submissive by you, you also cherish when he does the same. It was insane to think that only days ago you were a virgin and now you and Jungkook couldn;t keep your hands away from one another. The way you felt around him was complete - as iconic as it was to admit to yourself. The same man who bought your virginity and ordered for you to be his wife was now the man who made you feel...loved? Cared for?

Whatever the feeling was, you prayed it'd never changed.

"I want to ride you." you whisper in Jungkook's ear - sending goosebumps up his arm.

Jungkook nods his head hastily. He'd allow you to do anything you wanted to him - that fact was obvious.

While you were naked for him, Jungkook was fully clothed. Not for long - he yanks down his shorts and removes his shirt. He begins to lay back and hold your waist when you stop him. "I don't want you to touch me."

Jungkook knits his brows. "What do you mean?"

You fight the satisfied smile from forming onto your lips. Your eyes glances towards the handcuffs laying onto the bed. You grab them in a quick movement and placing one onto Jungkook's wrist. "It's your turn." you tease, blowing him a quick kiss before handcuffing the other wrist behind his back.

Jungkook can feel the excitement running through him when you push him to sit against the headboard. He appears like a child in a candy store - doe eyes wide and waiting for you to do your next move.

And you do - not hesitating when you sit onto his cock that was already painfully correct for you.

"Shit." Jungkook clenches his eyes shut. You're wrapping around him just right and he's positive that he wont be lasting for long.

Placing both hands onto Jungkook's shoulder, you dig your nails into it. It causes Jungkook to squirm, but he couldn't care less if you'd draw blood doing so.

You start your pace in riding him - you weren't a professional at this so it feels weird. But Jungkook was having the time of his life no matter how inexperience you were on top of him - he grunted and groaned out your name while clenching and unclenching his eyes. He was unsure where he desired to look - your goregous moaning face, your bouncing breast or your pussy wet and gripping around him.

You quicken the pace, feeling Jungkook deep inside of you. The sensation was amazing and you were certain you never wanted to stop. Jungkook's cock was perfect - the size was just enough to please you. Your mind - obviously clouded - thinks it was sculptured this way for you and only you.

"Your pussy feels so good, baby." Jungkook exhales - at this moment you're not crashing against him, each thrust sends him flying into the headboard. Neither of you care about being loud - a plus since the whole house was for just the two of you. "It feels like it was made just for me."

You swallow hard, throwing your head back. Your arms bring themselves back to hold onto his thighs as you continue to ride him. Jungkook couldn't help his eyes from watching your breast - perfectly rounded with hardened nipples - bounce as you fuck yourself against his cock. It was a sight that he would never forget for as long as he lived. He bites his lip.

"I'm not going to last long." Jungkook admits embarrassingly. How could he when you were doing this to him?

"Why not?" you laugh - a laugh that taunts him. "You can't handle it?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "I-I can."

"You sure?" you squeeze around him and smirk at the way Jungkook curses. "If that's so then don't cum until I tell you to."

Jungkook gulps. He closes his eyes - it was worth a try. If his eyes didn't catch onto the beauty that was you, then maybe he had a chance in not cumming. However, his eyes already have your sight engraved into his brain and even when he wasn't looking at you, you were all he could see. The sounds of your skin slapping his mixed with his moans aren't on his side, either.

"I love you so much." Jungkook groans out, it was low and he's unsure if he intended for you to hear him - but you do. At this moment he's moments from cumming and he's babbling, a few gibberish and some you could actually hear. "I can't wait for you to be my wife."

You yourself close your eyes.

"You're going to look so beautiful." Jungkook sucked in his breath - he's making an effort to not cum without your command. "You're going to look even more beautiful when you're pregnant with our child."

You moan out aloud this time - Jungkook was a professional at dirty talk. He said things you would have never in a million years thought would turn you on.

"Your stomach's going to be so swollen carrying my child." Jungkook continues, his hips jutting to thrust into you and this causes him to go deeper until he's hitting a sweet spot. "I can never get you off of my mind..."

"S-Shut up." you hum. You were suppose to be in charge and all he's doing is making you slowly become submissive.

"You occupy my mind all the time. All I can think about is you." Jungkook tugs at the handcuffs but it doesn't unlock. "Take these off of me." he commands, his voice deep and threatening.

You stop your thrust to open your eyes. You find Jungkook already looking at you intently. His eyes compell you to do as he says slowly. Once the last handcuff was off of him, he flips you. He enters you without a second thought and starts at a harsh pace. A hand is wrapped around your neck and he arches your back so he could continue whispering into your ears.

"I think about loving you. Caring for you..." Jungkook's thrust was powerful and echoed off the walls. "I think about breeding you. I know you'll be the perfect mother for our children."

You feel tears sweel in your eyes because damn did he have a way with words when it was time for him to be in control.

"I promise nothing will ever happen to you or them." Jungkook places his head on top of yours - you were tightening around him and he understands you're going to cum. So was he. "I'll always protect you and our children."

"Please cum in me." you cry out, the tears of pleasure already streaming down your face. Your mind is blurred and all you can think about was having him inside of you completely - your sober mind wouldn't agree, yet she wasn't here with you now.

Besides - you were on birth control.

"Please cum in me, Kookie." you beg once more and it's what sends him over the edge. He nods his head at you before doing so - deeply. It sends both of you tumbling over.

Your eyes feel heavy when you feel Jungkook wrap an arm around you. Unsure of what else to do, you do what your body wants and fall into a state of slumber.

Yoongi takes a fussy Jin-Seon in his arms and rocks him gently. Jungkook watches how his son calms down in his Hyung's arms and releases a sigh of relief. He leans back into the chair and continues to eye his son, noticing the way his tiny fingers spreaded themselves out and he couldn't help but smile.

He had Jin-Seon while you rested - surprised that you did so. You didn't have an issue with allowing Jungkook around Jin-Seon, knowing he would never intentionally hurt him. But, he understood you were a mother and naturally was protective of him, so when you agreed on getting a bit of extra sleep and trusted him to watch Jin-Seon tells Jungkook that you were (ever so slowly) beginning to trust him again.

And this time, Jungkook would take your trust into account.

"Who knew you could be so soft, hyung." Jimin teases.

"We've known Yoongi to be a fraud for years now." Jin waves his hand with a laugh. "He treats Holly better than he treats us."

Jungkook stands when he hears a few whimpers come from Jin-Seon. "Is he alright?" he asks Yoongi who rolls his eyes.

"Yes, Jungkook, he is." he responds. "He just wants you to hold him is my guess."

Jungkook nods and takes Jin-Seon back into his arms, making little noises to calm him down.

"You know," Jimin crosses his legs. "he will eventually start crying just because he knows you would always come."

Jungkook furrows a brow at Jimin. "I'm his father." he deadpans. "Why wouldn't I come?"

"Got a point." Jimin smirks and leans back into his seat.

Jungkook wiggles his finger in front of Jin-Seon and cheers lowly when his son wraps his tiny hand around his finger. He understands that Jin-Seon was already spoiled - he often took him in his arms whenever he heard the slightest whimpers or coos. He couldn't help himself - he only knew of his sons existence for about a month and blamed only himself that he wasn't there during your pregnancy.

Jungkook also understood that his father wasn't much of a father. His mother had thousands of photos and he couldn't find one where his father held his as a baby - but he found one too many of his uncles - his Hyungs fathers - holding him and his brother. He had no desire for his son to grow wondering if he ever loved him because he would already know the answer.

"I think it's time for us to go." Jin claps his hands together. "We've been with Jin-Seon for hours - I know he's growing tired of us."

"May be tired of the rest of you." Hoseok says, strolling towards Jungkook and a yawning Jin-Seon. He places a finger on his forehead. "But he loves me."

Jin-Seon whimpers and Jungkook takes a step back from Hoseok. "That's enough, you're upsetting him." he frowns at his Hyung.

Hoseok scoffs but leaves it alone. Jin-Seon was a trader - never once did he whimper or cry in his arms. "I'll be back and he'll love me." he says down to Jin-Seon.

Jungkook rocks Jin-Seon in his arms as his Hyung leaves. By his feet stood Bam, walking behind him as he strolled around with his son. He was once afraid that Bam would attack the infant - but it was the opposite. All Bam was interested in doing was smelling him - Rasu was more hands on. He'd often climb wherever the baby laid and would sleep besides him, no matter how many times he'd tell the feline not to do so.

Jungkook raises his son into the air, smiling as the baby looks down at him uninterestedly. "So cute." he laughs, lightly lowering and raising his son. "So, so cute - damn it!" Jungkook quickly places his son on the furthest end of the leather couch. He removes his shirt - now stained with white baby spit up. He uses the shirt to wipe his face and throws it to the side.

Jin-Seon begins to fuss. Jungkook places him back into his arms. "I'm not upset." he coos at his son. "I'll never be upset at you."

Jin-Seon squirms in Jungkook's arms, his head towards his bare chest and mouth open trying to feed on nothing. Jungkook frowns, his bottom lip forming a pout. "You must be hungry." he murmurs down to his son before standing slowly, afraid if he done so far too quick he'd drop Jin-Seon.

Jungkook makes his way to you. You had woke a few moments before his Hyungs had nor were you far, only in the next room organizing Jin-Seon's nursery when he arrived frantically. Jin-Seon was seconds away from crying, the low whimpers telling him so. "He's hungry." Jungkook says as he enters. You're folding Jin-Seon's clothes when he does. "I don't want him to cry."

You roll your eyes before turning to Jungkook. You wouldn't admit it - but you found it cute how concerned Jungkook was whenever Jin-Seon cried. You've dealt with children since a young age with the amount of nieces and nephews you had and knew that them crying would be the least of your worries. You attempted to tell Jungkook this - yet he was convinced that whenever Jin-Seon cried it would be the end of the world. "Why are you shirtless?"

"He...spit up on my shirt again." Jungkook glances away.

"Black shirt?" you ask, but only because you know the answer.

"...Yeah."

"I told you to stop wearing dark clothing - it'll just stain." you shake your head with a sigh - but Jungkook didn't care, you knew this. He told you that he'll just buy more. "Men never listen." you smile at Jin-Seon. "Do you want to feed him?" you tilt your head. "Jae-Beom got me a pump as a late gift. I only got enough for one feeding. It's warming up now."

Jungkook's eyes widen as his eyes watch you go around Jin-Seon's nursery and grab what you thought he needed to feed him. He was nervous - he never fed Jin-Seon before since you breast fed him, but he enjoyed watching. Not in a sick perverted way - but getting to witness you caring for his son was a sight he was thankful to experience.

You usher him to sit down and place the bottle in his hands. Jin-Seon was seconds from crying and Jungkook's nerves were kicking in. "What if he doesn't want me to?" he questions. "He's use to you."

"If he doesn't like it then we can switch." you responded. "I think you give him too much power. He's a baby."

Jungkook remains quiet but listens on how you instruct him to put the nipple in his mouth. He does and sighs in relief that Jin-Seon begins to suck without a care who was feeding him. He smiles a low smile the way Jin-Seon stops squirming. His eyes are stuck on his sons face - so peaceful as he is fed. Not a care in the world - no problems to face.

You go back to folding Jin-Seon's clothes for the next few minutes, organizing everything around you for an easy find. The room is quiet and you're humming to yourself lowly. Jin-Seon was going to be a hungry child when he grew - all he wanted to do was eat. And knowing Jungkook, he'd allow Jin-Seon to do whatever he wanted as long as he wasn't hurting himself.

When you turn around to check on Jin-Seon, your eyes catch Jungkook's appearance and are taken aback. "Are you crying?" you whisper, unsure if you were intruding on a personal moment or not.

Jungkook feels the tears drop from his cheek and onto Jin-Seon's onesie. He takes a deep breath then swallows. "I can't take back what I've done to you Y/N. I wish I would've listened when you begged me not to." Jungkook wipes a few tears away with his shoulder, careful not to disturb a carefree Jin-Seon.

You've never seen Jungkook cry before - it startles you. One moment he was alright, smiling down at Jin-Seon as he feeds him and now he's visibly disturbed.

"Jungkook, what-"

"I love you with all my heart for making me a father but I hate myself for how it happened. I know..." Jungkook's eyes stare at Jin-Seon, his eyes watering even more. He wasn't a cryer - especially not in front of others. But the thought of his son growing older and despising him for what he's done to you makes his blood run cold. "I would do anything for you and Jin-Seon and I will spend forever trying to redeem myself."

Jungkook removes the bottle from Jin-Seon's mouth and begins to burp him.

Your step closer to them, your eyes on the unfamiliar mark on his chest. You squint your eyes to see just what it was. Jungkook lifts his head and notices your attention on your chest.

"I forgot to tell you." Jungkook murmurs. He gently stands, holding Jin-Seon to his chest. "I got it done when you were...gone. I added his name the day after I brought him home."

You glance upward to Jungkook then back down to the tattoo engraved into his skin - right above his heart.

Jungkook feels your fingertips touch his skin, tracing the tattoo of your and Jin-Seon's name followed by numbers. You take note that it was the day you and him married - and the day Jin-Seon was born.

You're unsure how to feel. Jungkook had many tattoos littering his body, yet this was reasonably more personal. It being tattoo right above his heart tells it all.

"I'm not telling you to forgive me." continues Jungkook. Jin-Seon was now asleep, his small hand in a tight fist held close to his lips.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say."

"Nothing." Jungkook answers with a shake of his head. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

You cross your arms but turn your head away.

"I told you about my father and what he's done to me and my hyung..." Jungkook starts, he feels his throat swell up. "...and I...I took advantage of you that night. You begged me to stop-"

"You don't have to-" You didn't want to hear this - or relive that night.

"You begged me to stop, Y/N. And I didn't!" Jungkook hisses. He sniffles when Jin-Seon jumps in his arms, but doesn't wake. He rushes to place his son in his crib. He turns towards you, clenching the crib. "I told myself I would never be like that man and I became him."

You didn't know what there was to say to him. You could feel your own throat swell at the sight of him - he's clenching Jin-Seon's crib far too tight that his knuckles were turning white. His eyes were teary and a single drop falls into the crib as he watches his son sleep.

"Thank you for coming back to me." Jungkook's words are sincere. "I know I put you through Hell. I know I didn't give you a choice..."

Jungkook faces you now - even with blurry eyes does he noticed the hurt in your face.

"I don't want our son growing up questioning if I love you or him." Jungkook steps closer to you, gulping. "I want to be the father I never had. I...I..."

Jungkook hangs his head. He doesn't know what to say. It would be cowardly to apologize to you - he has already. Many times, however, it felt wrong. He knew what he did was wrong and to apologize to you once more would be like a slap in the face. You didn't want to hear it - he was sure of it.

"You're not like him." Jungkook hears your low voice through his ears. You curse at yourself for doing this - you owe Jungkook nothing, not even your kindness. But what you heard of Jungkook's father, you knew well enough that his son was nothing like him, no matter what he's put you through. "Jin-Seon...I know he'll be happy to have you as a father."

Jungkook widens his eyes at your words. You aren't looking at him but he appreciates your words. He doesn't deserve them - not after all he's put you through. He steps even closer to you, hands shaking. "Can I hug you?" he mumbles. "It's okay if you-"

"Okay." you nod in agreement. You feel his arms wrap around you and it brings back a flood of memories with just his scent alone. You gulp and exhale.

Jungkook holds you close to himself - tight but not enough to make you uncomfortable. He wasn't one to do this - to show such vulnerability. He was tired of being the man he was since you've been gone - the things he's done to people, especially the women at the Brothel. He felt unlike himself, hating the world for something he's done. You would've never left if he could just say no to whatever bullshit tradition that didn't mean anything. He could've had the chance to see you grow pregnant with his child, to take pictures with you and deal with whatever cravings you had. You and him would be a family - the one he never had when he was a child.

"You never told me you could paint." you cross your arms. Your eyes catch the painting he has with Soo-ah and Hyejin. Both girls are painting rainbows while Jungkook had painted a museum worthy piece - a waterfall surrounded by an array of trees and a stream.

"You never asked." Jungkook snorts, glancing your way.

"Well...it's not like people in your line of work do this." you defend, eyes admiring the painting. The amount of detail you catch was amazing - so amazing that you were sure that this could be a profession Jungkook could work in.

"Is that so?" Jungkook furrows a brow. "Namjoon-hyung also paints - as a hobby. He also writes books."

Namjoon was an intelligent man, you didn't doubt that. If these men were normal people - and not apart of whatever Mafia like gang, you wouldn't doubt for a second that Namjoon was a writer and Jungkook an artist.

"Never judge a book by its cover." you shrug.

You leave it alone - Jungkook was allowed to be talented. He was more ways than one - not only in sex.

Speaking of sex with Jungkook, as you woke this morning you felt the aftermath of the night prior. It hit you like a train, but you couldn't bring yourself to regret it. Sex with Jungkook was always wonderful - and each time you woke up just like this.

What you weren't expecting was the words Jungkook spoke to you. Sure, he was a natural dirty talker and got off on speaking such dirty, praising and sometimes degrading words to you. His words last night got to you, so much so that you begged him to cum inside of you. It embarrasses you each time you think of it, but did you really regret it? The sex was good and consensual. You asked him to and he delivered - you couldn't say you felt indifferent about it.

You grab a quick breakfast - some juice and a bagel. You weren't hungry at the moment and haven't been since you arrived in Greece. Making your way into the back of the beach out, you stroll your way towards the Gazebo that sat a few feet from the pool. You sit and admire the scenery - the mountains are miles away but seem so close. The trees surrounded them are moving around in the wind and you wish you brought your phone to take a picture of it.

"Hello."

Your head snaps to the voice - an unfamiliar one. You straighten your back at the woman. She offers you a smile as she seats herself across from you. She's an older woman with a few wrinkles around her eyes, but you cannot say just what her age was. Her hair was cut into a short bob - jet black with a few strands tucked behind her ear.

"You're Y/N." she states and you nod, bowing to her. There was something about this woman that was familiar to you, yet you're unsure how. "I'm Lee Young-Hee."

"Y/L Y/N." you smile, nodding your head respectfully. You take a sip of your drink. "Do you know my fiance?"

Young-Hee nods her head. "I know my son well."

You widen your eyes in horror. Quickly, you bow, apologizing to her. You're unsure how to now face her - how could you not know what his mother looked like. Yet, you blamed Jungkook. He spoke fondly of her always - yet pictures of her weren't around his home and you never thought about questioning when you'd meet her.

"My son spoke of you often. I was wondering when he'd allow me to meet you." Young-Hee scans your appearance, checking for anything she could on your skin that stood out. "I got the invitation to your wedding just yesterday. Got on the next flight here."

You're confused. Jungkook was the one that set the date - and everything else. Why would he purposely leave his mother out of the wedding?

"I'm just as confused." you admit.

You notice the way she looks at you, as if she's trying to find something.

"Are you with my son against your will?"

You stiffen. You look into her eyes for any sign of her joking - but she wasn't. Her eyes were serious and at your lack of response, she placed a hand on yours. "You can tell me." she nods her head.

"I-I don't understand." you laugh humorlessly. It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but your laugh was so dry that no one would believe it. "Where is this-"

"His father was a terrible man." Young-hee shakes her head. "I wished I would've left when I had the chance. Before I got pregnant with my eldest son. It was too late for me then." she stares into your eyes and you see it. The glint of truth - what Jungkook was telling you of his father rang far true, more than any of you knew. "It's not too late for you to leave if he's forcing you to be with him."

You can't bring yourself to respond. It was too late for her to leave - did that mean it was too late for Eun-Young? She had a baby and by the looks of it, she didn't want you to go through what she's gone through - her words exactly. You haven't noticed any bruises on her - even while she was in Greece. However, the way she acted around Jung-hyun was concerning - she always had her head and eyes down and remained behind him, rarely side by side.

"Eomma!" Jungkook calls. You snap your head towards his voice to see him running towards the two of you. "When did you arrive?"

Young-hee sighs and turns towards her son. She rises from her seat and wraps him in a hug. "Just a few moments ago. I could have arrived when everyone else did if I was properly invited."

There's venom behind his mothers words and Jungkook could only chuckle nervously. He glances behind her to you. You were already watching him. There was no telling how long his mother was with you and what she told - or asked.

"It happened so fast, eomma."

"Don't lie to me, Jungkook." Young-hee pats his shoulders and lets go of him. "Lying doesn't suit the man I raised."

"Yes, eomma." Jungkook responds quietly. "Eomma, this is Y/N. My fiance." Jungkook reaches his hand out for you to grab. You do and stand, entangling your fingers together. "I've meant to have you meet her but..."

Jungkook turns his head to you and you smile. You place a kiss on his nose - it catches him off guard only for a second.

"We couldn't wait to be married." you tell her, a smile on your lips.

You had no desire to be caught by his mother. You're unsure what mother she was truly. You've seen mothers who were far too emotionally invested with their sons and didn't like any woman (or man) they brought home. There were mothers who were disconnected from their children that they didn't have a car in the world who they associaed with.

But with her concern if you were being with him against your will, you note, was maybe her way of preventing history from repeating itself. She couldn't save Eun-Young - she had a child to worry about - but there was a chance she could save you if needed be.

But you couldn't allow her to. You weren't caring for just you - but for your family. There was no telling of what abuse - if any curenntly - Eun-Young was allowing. Yet, you can't say Jungkook was as abusive. Controlling at times? Yes. You were chipped like a dog - but so was he. He funded your lifestyle and willingly funded your families - you know those dance classes for Soo-ah were not cheap, neither was rehab for Hyun-woo.

But Jungkook was kind when you were. He didn't force himself onto you and you iniciated almost every sexual act since the beginning of being active. He doesn't act the way Jung-hyun does - you can stand side by side with him and he'll be just as comfortable. There were many times in which he could've taken your freedom away and left you with nothing - but he hasn't. Even when you slapped him in front of his brother - a sign of ultimate disrespect - the worse he's done was keep you close to him.

And chip you - yet with a little more reassurance, you were positive he'd remove the chip if he could trust you.

"Well then," Young-hee shrugs. "allow me to have some girl time with my daughter-in-law. You've kept her hidden long enough."

Jungkook squeezes your hand gently and nods at his mother. He gives you a kiss on the cheek before departing.

Young-hee gives you another scan. It wasn't though she couldn't trust her sons - she loved both of them dearly! Yet, they were also shared genes with their father and though he has been deceased for many years, they may share the same views. She's tried for years to steer her sons away from the "traditions" their father were forcing into their heads. Jung-hyun was more traiditional, less harsh than their father, yet Eun-Young was visible traumatized.

Jungkook always took after her. Quiet, mellow and reserved. He was sensitive and didn't enjoy seeing anyone be hurt. He was a man now and she understood that her son being in the business that was Bangtan alone meant that he was far from innocent - but he was a good person when needed be.

"How did you and my son meet?"

You lick your lips. "An auction."

"Oh?" Young-hee furrows a brow. "What were you selling?"

'My virginity.' you thought with a bitter laugh. "Nothing." you giggle. "I was just...browsing. That's how we met."

Young-hee nods, but isn't convinced.

"How well do you know my son?"

"I know what he does." you assure her. Your eyes catch Jungkook from inside the beach house, head peaking out the window. "I, um, don't come from this world but...I'm willing to be a part of it for him."

"I was like you once." Young-hee takes both of your hands in hers. She gives you a weak smile, a reassuring one. "I thought I could tame the monster that was his father..."

"J-Junglook's not a monster."

"I know he isn't. He's a good man..." Young-hee rubs her thumbs over your hands. "Yet, trauma lies deeply within him."

You understood this - Jungkook has informed you of such trauma. His behavior for keeping you against your will wasn't excused - yet now you could say you were far from against your will.

"Since you know what he does as a livelihood...what do you think of Bangtan's traditions?"

You shake your head with a sigh. "I-I don't agree." you respond. "Jungkook doesn't either and we have no intention of going along with it."

Young-hee is surprised - the wide eyes tell you this. "Is that so?" she murmurs. "But, it's been in Bangtan for generations. His brothers all went through with it. Are you telling me he will be the first to go against it?"

"I think he should've been allowed to decide when he wished to lose his virginity. And by whom." you disagree. You'd never agree to anyone being forced to lose something sacred to them at another persons liking.

Young-hee's face falls and she drops your hands. For a moment her mind tells her that Jungkook was different - the exception. But, he was not. And you know nothing of what she was speaking of.

"He has not told you about the consummation tradition."

"Excuse me?"

Young-hee looks into your eyes - she pities you. How long was her son going to put this off before telling you. Was he ever?

"A better term is a bedding ceremony. Bangtan is all about..." Young-hee scoffs. "...expanding their family. It's a tradition that's gone on for decades. It's how all the marriages in Bangtan had went along and Jungkook would be no exception."

You feel your throat tighten. A Bedding ceremony...

What you knew of such act was allowing people to watch you consummate your wedding with Jungkook.

You feel your stomach rumble and you felt sick.

"E-Excuse me." you bow your head. You needed to get out of here immediately.

"Shit." you hiss, scrambling to grab your phone. It had rang, you forgetting to put it on silence before putting Jin-Seon to bed. "Where is it?"

Jin-Seon begins to wail, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, upset that his precious sleep was interrupted by the loud blaring of the phone. You mentally curse yourself as you searched for your phone.

"Is Jin-Seon alright?" Jungkook enters his sons room, already by his sons side. The boy - now 1 - reaches out for him, whimpers 'appa' and Jungkook takes him in his arms.

"I thought you were in a meeting." you groan, still looking for your blaring phone.

"I heard Jin-Seon crying." Jungkook grabs his son. "Eomma forgot to turn off her phone." he pretends to cry with his son. He rocks him back and forth as you continue to search for your phone. Jin-Seon was getting heavy but his son enjoyed nothing more than being held by his father.

"Got it." you huff. You grab the phone and answer it, bringing it to your ear without knowing who it was calling you.

Jungkook sways with his son as he eyes you. Since you returned a year prior, you had many calls from your siblings, all wishing to see Jin-Seon after realizing you were back home and with a baby. You had apologized for being gone for so long, claiming to be depressed and needed to get away. Yes, they had all collectively screamed at you - but they were also concerned about your well-being and safety. It was a cover up when Jungkook claimed to "find you a few weeks later and send you away for treatment".

"Hyun-woo?"

Jungkook stops swaying with his son. Jin-Seon now had his head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck. His eyes narrow at you as you laugh as you speak to your brother. He can't hear what he's saying, but he knows well enough that by the way you're talking it only meant that Hyun-woo was doing great in his recovery.

Jungkook hadn't kept up with Hyun-woo during rehab even if he was paying for it. He had no desire to. Nor did he have a desire to have Hyun-woo in his sons life and back in yours. You were doing better - much better - and having Hyun-woo enter and disturbing it weighs heavy on his mind.

"Yes. You can come see me when you come tomorrow!" you turn around to smile at Jungkook who does the same in return - though a fake one. "I also have someone you should meet..."

Jungkook places Jin-Seon back into his bed and crosses his arm, tongue in cheek. You continue speaking with him for the next few minutes before bidding your goodbye. You turn to him with a wide smile that makes his heart swell. You hadn't had a smile that wide and excited on your lips in so long - he longs to see it as much as possible.

"Hyun-woo is being released from rehab. He's better now and..." you step closer to Jungkook and wrap him in a hug, head pressed against his chest. "...thank you for paying for his treatment."

"You...you don't have to thank me." Jungkook murmurs. "You know I love you."

You remove yourself from Jungkook's chest and smile nervously. "Can he...come here? And visit?"

No - Jungkook doesn't want that addict around his son or you. But, you were slowly growing closer to him again and he wanted to do anything for you to be able to trust him. Hyun-woo would do nothing but cause harm to you growing closer to him but he'd never let that happen.

"Okay." Jungkook hesitantly agrees. "I need to be here for that to happen."

You nod your head vigiruosly. "I promise he won't steal anything." you assure. Jungkook didn't care about what the man stole, he had more than enough money to replace them.

"I don't care about that. I just want to make sure you and Jin-Seon are safe." Jungkook places his hands on your shoulders. "You and our son are my top priority."

You take a deep breath. You lick your lips.

The last year for you and Jungkook was hard. You and him agreed to therapy. There was no leaving anymore - not when Jungkook knew about Jin-Seon. He agreed to see a therapist that specializes in couple and familiar drama. Every day you and Jungkook went and talked about anything.

You learned of Jungkook's past - the therapist seemingly numb of learning Jungkook had murdered his father to protect his mother. You learned more about Jungkook in therapy than you've ever thought you'd learn just being by his side. Slowly, you can feel yourself warming up to him. What Jungkook has done to you done a number on you - yes, however, witnessing the way Jungkook put everything aside whenever Jin-Seon called him warms your heart. Jin-Seon is only 1 and can only say a handful of words, sadly Eomma isn't one of it.

"I can't wait to see him again." you admit. "He sounded...better. Like himself. Like the man I knew growing up."

Jungkook nods but he can't bring himself to appear happy. One thing for certain, Hyun-woo coming back couldn't ruin his family. He would never allow it.

"Please don't do this Jungkook." you pleaded, the tears streaming down your face at a rapid pace.

The day had finally come - and to say you were less than pleased was an understatement. That night you had screamed at Jungkook for not telling you. You were embarrassed having to learn of such a tradition from his mother - and then it made sense. She was warning you for far more than abuse when it came to Jungkook and Bangtan in a whole. It made sense why he rushed to your side when noticing her speak to you.

Jungkook had pleaded with you to not be upset or angry with him - that was a laughing matter. Was he going to tell you? Or was he going to allow you to find out when everyone crowded into the room to watch the two of you?

"They won't be in the room." he assures, yet that was worse. The fact that they watched you without you being able to see them didn't make it any less humiliating. How could you face these people after they witness you get fucked?

You didn't speak with him - no matter how much he tried. Days passed and the wedding came. It was a hectic day - and it was evident you weren't happy. Before meeting Jungkook's mother, you were actually expecting your wedding day. Now, it makes you bitter. You got your hair and makeup done without a word and your sisters attempted to cheer you up - but they were unsuccessful.

Jungkook was a bucket of nerves. He often checked up to make sure you were even still where you needed to be - you were. You hadn't tried to escape but he couldn't think of anything else. He cursed his mother for telling you about the tradition - but it wasn't her fault. He should have told you about it, but the possibility of you running away and him ruining what the two of you shared weighed heavy on him.

Jungkook knows he ruined what the two of you had regardless.

Jungkook smiled when he saw you in your dress for the first time in a month. Your hair was tied in an updo with loose curls lining your face. Your makeup enhances your beauty and he's in awe. He smiles as you walk towards him - but the smile on your lips is for show and he catches onto this. Still, he couldn't help but have his heart beat when you reach his side. "You're so beautiful." he murmured to you, yet you remain silent.

The wedding goes by in a blur and the party that ensures after is chaotic. Jin cried while giving his own speech in claiming that he saw Jungkook grow up. Yoongi even sheds a single tear before mumbling about being drunk and not emotionally invested in his dongsaeng.

It didn't take long for your siblings to get drunk - but it was alright to you. At least they were content and thriving - something you couldn't say for yourself. You took a few shots yourself and lingered around. You wished you could go with the children when they were brought back to the beach house after partying too hard on sparkling juice. But, you had to stay with Jungkook and be fucked in front of the other members of Bangtan.

You couldn't understand the reason - it was a different time. You'd already willingly had sex with him. Why did these men need to watch you have sex with your husband to ensure you'd been imgregnated?

"It'll be okay, baby." Jungkook tells you, shushing you quietly. "What did I promise you before?"

You lick your lips. You can feel the eyes on you and your mind is wandering. Were they interested in what they were seeing? Were they laughing? Did they think you were being overly dramatic?

"I'll never let anything happen to you." Jungkook murmurs. He pushes you onto the bed, holding your face in his hands. "I'll protect you until the day I die. You have to trust me."

The room itself was bland but bright. You can see the camera in the corner ceiling of the room but try to ignore it. Your seated on the bed, the only furniture in the room.

"You trust me, don't you?" Jungkook wipes the tears from the corner of your eyes. He leans down to kiss your forehead.

You're unsure, but nod your head.

"Good girl."

You glance at the camera when you feel Jungkook's hand sneak its way between your legs, pushing up the night gown. He rubs your clit. When he leans down and press a kiss on your cheek, your hand swings at him.

Jungkook feels your fist connect to his cheek and huffs. He glares at you, ears red. "Y/N." he hisses out a warning. "It'll be easier if you just-"

"Don't do this." you whimper, clenching your fists.

"Y/N." Jungkook hisses. He grasps your chin with his hand and yanks you to face him. He leans down and hisses, "I will never hurt you. I love you."

"If you'd love me you wouldn't-" You feel Jungkook pushes you down. He gets atop of the bed and hovers above you.

"You have to trust me, baby." Jungkook loses the anger in his voice. He didn't want to scare you - he loved you. He didn't want to put you through this yet he had to - it was a tradition. "The faster you cooperate the faster we can be done, okay, baby? Then we can go home."

You feel his hand once more between your legs.

"Okay." you nod in defeat. "I...do this...we can go home." you repeat - more to yourself. It was to coach yourself into being comfortable.

You turn around on the bed, allowing him to remove the underwear you wore and lift the nightgown. You feel the tip of his cock twirl around your clit until you're wet enough.

Jungkook enters you and your fingers clench the bedsheets. Your head lays on the bed. You're unaware that you're crying until you feel it on your cheeks. You can feel Jungkook's thrust quicken but all you can do is look up at the camera facing you in the corner of the room.

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