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hyunsvngs · 9 months

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𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 10.4k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: idiots in love (AND THEY FINALLY ADMITTED IT!), no use of y/n, sickeningly sweet pet names (again), felix is really in love and also horny as fuck, mc is thinking about sex 24/7, mentions of nausea but no vomiting, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: you and your best friend completed the main objective of your royal lives - your arranged marriage. you’ve both finally confessed your love to each other, and it seems that nothing can go wrong… until the public’s opinion of you becomes clear.

a/n: THE FINAL PART OF FAIRY FLOWERS. I PROMISE YOU THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING AND IS REALLY CUTE AND SMUTTY AND FLUFFY. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THIS SERIES AND I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS PART AS MUCH AS THE OTHERS :D

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: oral (m&f receiving), d/s dynamics (both fulfil both roles at some point, but never anything too heavy), INTENSE BREEDING KINK, panty sniffing but they’re still on, pet names in bed, unprotected sex, creampies, slight degradation (he calls mc stupid in bed), squirting

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“How long?”

Felix hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair. He’d been trying to plait some daisies that he’d picked from the meadow into the locks, but he’d given up halfway through. “Forever.”

You sniffed. You’d been crying for what felt like hours, since Felix had confessed to you and taken you back to your room to lay down. You’d since wrapped up warm in pajamas again and were taking the day to yourselves. You both had a lot to process, after all. “Me too, Pixie.”

You could almost feel Felix vibrating with excitement. “I’m sorry, but I have to say - we are both really fucking dumb, sugarplum.”

You giggled, nodding against his chest where you were laying.

“I was so over the moon when you agreed to marry me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it hadn't been you. I just didn’t know how to tell you, I was so scared of ruining the friendship and what we had, and then… you gave me that book,” he finished. He’d said it all in one breath, and he was now almost panting. “I knew then. Or, I thought I knew. I decided I’d risk it anyway and confess, and I had this whole elaborate thing planned. But then you left!”

You groaned, moving to lay so you were looking up at him on his chest. “You can kind of blame Chan for that. He told me you’d read the book, and then you denied it, so then I thought… I thought you’d read it, and then decided I was a freak or something and didn’t want to say anything to me about it.”

Felix shook his head, smiling softly. “I think it’s one of the bravest things you’ve ever done. I was so proud of you when I had finally processed everything, sugarplum.”

You grinned back, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips. You loved that you could just fucking do that now, and it was normal.

“Do you wanna hear the confession? Like, what I had planned?”

“Um, do I? Of fucking course! Tell me, tell me!” You shrieked. You positioned yourself so that your leg was swung over his thighs, fingers dancing up his hoodie to rest on his abs in a moment of non-sexual intimacy. Your Prince still shuddered anyway.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, so. I was going to take you to our meadow at sunset, and I was going to already have a daisy chain made for you. I had plans to put some little lanterns around on a picnic blanket and have some fruit there for us to pick at and eat. I was going to tell you that there was one quote that really stuck with me in the book, when Knightley says ‘if I loved you less-‘“

“‘I might be able to talk about it more.’ It’s my favorite quote. Cliche, because it is the most famous, but it’s just beautiful, isn’t it?” Felix hummed in agreement. You started to trace circles on his soft, tanned skin.

“It’s my favorite too. It reminded me of you. If I had loved you less, I wouldn’t be so scared about risking everything, and I could’ve told you. I could’ve told you that I love you, and everything would’ve been so much easier,” Felix confessed. Your heart felt like it was about to burst with love. You’d compared you and Felix to Emma and Mr. Knightley, and Felix had done the exact same. “Anyway, I really thought about that, and I made you a daisy chain. It’s probably wilted now, but I was going to give it to you. The wedding ring means we’re married, yeah, but a daisy chain is just so us, isn’t it? That’s more of a show of love to me.”

“Not sure I would’ve understood your confession from just a daisy chain and a quote, Pixie, but sure-“

“I’m not done!” Felix yelled. You chuckled, motioning for him to continue. He sighed, looking deep into your eyes. “Anyway, I was going to say all of that, and then I was going to kiss you, like super romantically. Then, I would tell you that I loved you and that I always have loved you, sugarplum. I know it’s simple, but-“

You surged forward, pressing your lips to his. Felix let out a small squeak in surprise, but quickly took it in his stride, using his left hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t be happier. You’d finally got him - and you didn’t feel selfish at all.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“I’m so… fucking… pissed.” Felix was panting at the door to your bedroom. Your shared bedroom, may you add. You wanted to twirl your hair and kick your feet every time you remembered it. You slept together here, amongst… other things. Looking up from your book, you blinked at him. Reading Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time hadn’t been boring at all to you - there was always something in you that made you obsess over Mr. Darcy. He was the dream, seriously. Well, the fictional dream. Your dreams coming to life existed in the form of your best friend, now husband, all small frame and bleached hair of him.

He was out of breath, sweating, immediately stripping his shirt off to throw it on the floor. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he so disheveled? “Lixie… did you run here?”

“Yes,” He whined, throwing himself on top of you on the couch. You’d lit the fireplace in the room and perched on the couch in your most comfortable clothes for the day. You’d had nothing else to do, no duties. Being a Princess now meant you had so much to do all the time, so it was a welcomed change by you to be able to just lounge around comfortably in an oversized shirt and underwear, nothing else. He laid on top of you, disturbing the peace, but his limbs splayed everywhere on top of your body was also welcomed by you. “I’m so mad, I just had to run!”

“Okay,” You hummed, slotting the bookmark into your book and shutting it, putting it on the floor. You tried to stay calm, hoping that your energy would rub off on your husband and calm down the temper that he was in. Felix grabbed your hand and put it in his hair, and you dutifully started scratching. It had become so comfortable to be in a relationship with him, to be married to him for real - there were no other changes, except for the fact that you now had sex - a lot - and slept in the same bed every night. You could even kiss him without shame, which was another fact that you had yet to process. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re so pissed off then, or…?”

He mumbled something incoherently into your chest, making your ears perk. What? Seriously, he was so frustrating - just speak up! You chided yourself. He was in a bad mood, over whatever it was, and it’s totally not his fault that he’s feeling a little nonverbal about it.

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you, Pixie.”

Felix raised his head slightly, turning to face the flickering fireplace but staying rested on your chest. The fireplace lit up his features, highlighting high cheekbones and pouty lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He got more beautiful every time you saw him, especially with his exposed tan skin at that moment - the flames from the fireplace made him look warm toned, like the sweet cup of coffee you like to help yourself to in the morning. Energising and tempting. You wondered, rather inconsiderately, if you could jump his bones after he’d vented to you. You still had your legs crossed from the moment he entered the room, back pressed up against the armrest and legs obscured with a thick, fluffy blanket. He hadn’t even noticed you were clad in only an oversized bed t-shirt with your underwear underneath, your legs and the blanket covering the exposure.

“It’ll make you sad, I think. I’d hate to make you sad, sugarplum,” He whispered, almost solemnly. You hummed again. Maybe it would make you sad, but if it would make your Prince feel better, you wanted to know. You voiced this statement and he sighed almost immediately. “Okay. People are getting a bit unhappy with the royal family. You’re not really a noble, and people have been… considering you the servant’s daughter, I guess. I dunno. People have also clued in to our marriage being arranged, even though we’re denying it completely, so… They’re angry. Yeah, they’re fucking pissed, sugarplum.”

The rage hit you at once. You shut your eyes. They’re angry? You’re fucking angry. How dare they speak down on you like that? You’ve had years of etiquette training, the same fucking education as their prized Prince. You knew him better than anyone else. You wanted to scream. It had made you frustrated at Felix, when it wasn’t his fault at all.

The heat of the fireplace was now lighting your own fire, deep inside your heart that made you want to lash out against anyone that wasn’t Felix. You knew Felix, knew he would’ve done everything to stand up for you. You weren’t doubtful of that in the slightest. He’d wrap you up in cotton wool even if there was only one person saying you were slightly annoying.

Felix sat up, waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? You didn’t say anything. Are you upset…? Oh God, you’re sad, I’m so sorry-“

“Lix, shut up,” You blurted. He looked at you with the signature deer in the headlights look. You sighed. “Sorry, baby. I’m pissed off, not upset, and I’m not pissed off with you. I’m pissed off with them.”

Felix looked relieved, nodding and falling down against your chest again. “It’s so not fair, right?! They don't get to decide. We gotta show them, show them you’re exactly the right person.”

“Does it matter what they think, realistically?”

“Um, yes,” Felix scoffed. “Remember that one film we watched where they tried to overthrow the government?”

“Pixie, please tell me you’re not talking about The Hunger Games. This isn’t even a government?”

“I totally am referring to that, yeah! It’s like… you’re Katniss, sugarplum. I’m Peeta, right, except way better looking, no offence to him, and I’m a Prince. Everyone loves me, and you’re Katniss. You’re super cool, and sexy, and smart - but then the public just thinks you're evil. The public is… President Snow! Oh my God, this totally makes sense,” He was out of breath at the end, eyes wide.

You held back a laugh. “This is the strangest metaphor you’ve come up with to date, baby.”

“It makes sense though. Okay, no,” Felix shook his head. “I’m being really dramatic.”

“Well, yeah-“

“Shu’up!” He whined, thrashing around on top of you. “Okay, I know I am being dramatic! But, I just want them to love you. I want them to see what I see, you know? You’re perfect.”

His voice was quiet, heartfelt. You let a small laugh come out then, kissing his head. You had to subdue the tension, make a joke in order to make him relax a little. “I hope the public don’t all wanna fuck me, Lix.”

Felix was immediately upright, reaching down to tickle you punishingly. It was your turn to thrash around, trying to kick him, trying to do anything - you hated when he tickled you, but to be honest, you had been winding him up by trying to lighten the mood. It had been your whole goal, really, and you hadn’t thought of the consequences.

He eventually fell back on the couch, his back up against the armrest opposite the one you’d been leaning on. He threw his legs, still clad in dress trousers, over yours. Felix huffed a deep breath, and you were still panting, letting out random giggles reminiscent of the ones you’d emitted when he was tickling you. “You’re right.”

“Huh?” You heaved a loud, obnoxious breath out, still smiling. “Right about what?”

Felix smiled, that silly smile he does when he’s about to make a stupid statement. “I do wanna fuck you. All the time, actually. You drive me fucking crazy, sugarplum.”

You raised an eyebrow. You were going to wipe that stupid smile off of his face. You’d felt way more confident, comfortable in your own skin since you and Felix had confessed to each other and he’d wholly struggled to keep his hands off of you, even in public. You kicked the blanket off of your legs, exposing the exposed skin, and Felix’s face dropped. He stared at your legs, bare and with soft skin from the lotion you used when you showered, and his eyes widened when you spread your legs. Your core was clad with just a pair of white expensive lace underwear - some way overpriced brand that Chan’s wife had recommended to you - and you could see Felix’s gaze drop to the space between your legs. An immediate blush rose to his cheeks, crimson settling underneath the fawn freckles scattered around olive skin.

“You’ve- I… You’ve just been… like that? This whole- this whole fucking time? Baby, sugarplum, my Queen…” He was immediately moving, face moving to settle between your legs and presumably nose at the soft lace. You gripped his soft hair softly, pulling his head back and making him let out a groan before he could even meet the fabric with his button nose. “B-Baby?”

“What are you doing, Lix? You can’t just accost your wife like that,” You scoffed. His eyes were soft, looking up at you. It was new, you two playing like this - honestly, you’d only just become confident enough to key into some of your more innate desires. You loved the teasing, the push and pull, whether it was you or your Prince on the receiving end.

“Lemme eat you out, yeah? Yeah? Please, sugarplum?” He huffed, his tongue peeking out to lick over his bottom lip. Felix’s eyes were darting around, landing on you, on the fireplace, on your covered pussy. Your folds had already started to slick up with your Prince looking so vulnerable, his dark doe eyes panicked and weak. “I know you like it when I do. You love my lips, I know you do. Let me eat you out, and then I’ll… I’ll…” He was trailing off.

You smiled softly, encouraging him. “And then you’ll what, Pixie?”

Felix let out a deep groan, rasping out straight from his chest, your fingers still tight around the soft strands of sandy hair. His roots had started growing out, chestnut brown hair adding to the mix of blonde shades. You loved his blonde mullet, but a part of you missed Felix with his long, dark hair too. “I’ll fill you up. Make you a mommy, yeah? Everyone will know you’re perfect then, if we make an heir… can I? Can I cream in that sweet pussy after you ride my face, sugarplum? Will you let me?”

Your chest heaved, your breathing coming out in thick pants like a fucking dog. Your pussy felt like it was going to drip all over the couch and leave a stain that would be extremely hard to explain to the maids. You managed to nod, a small, overly timid nod that was completely the opposite of how you’d been speaking and acting. Lithe fingers dropped from the strands of hair, and Felix’s face was immediately between your legs.

“Can’t believe this… this sweet pussy was almost fucking out, this whole time, and I’ve been- fucking going on, I’ve been ranting, and I could’ve been tasting you, oh my God,” Felix whined, deep breaths flooding over your clothed core. You moaned, saccharinely sweet. The feeling of the warm flames from the fireplace had made you feel relaxed and toasty, but now you were warm for a different reason. The arousal was building deep in your tummy as Felix nuzzled his nose against your folds, inhaling deeply at the smell of your pussy. The scent of your wetness flooded his senses. It was primal, desperate, and he was whining again when he licked a wide stripe over the fabric, sodden with your arousal. “Mm, yeah. Nice and sweet for me, sugarplum. Always so nice and sweet for me.”

“Taste it then. Properly, Pixie,” You demanded. Unperturbed, he nodded in agreement, sighing with another deep breath when his fingers hooked into the underwear to pull them down your legs. To be honest, they were a sorry excuse for underwear, barely covering anything. You just liked the way the soft, thin lace felt against your skin, and clearly Felix liked them too. When your pussy was exposed to the warm air, Felix was immediately moaning out loudly, face diving into your folds. He ate you without abandon, shoving his tongue between your folds to lick you up of all of your arousal, nose buried in the softness that met him there.

Felix pressed open mouth kisses against your clit, swirling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves. You felt his thumb reach up to pull your pussy back, exposing your clit from underneath the hood to the warm air of the room. He was immediately latched onto it, sucking hard, and you whined loudly. Your orgasm was already building steadily, a white hot heat twisting in your gut at the way he was making out with your cunt filthily. He was smearing his spit everywhere, licking it up and making you flood his mouth messily with your juices.

“Oh God, I’m already- fuck- ‘m already getting close, Pixie, Lix, Lix, Felix, please-“ He nodded against your folds, pulling back to spit messily on your clit and smear it around with his fingers. He used two fingers on the same hand to press at your hole, entering you seamlessly and making you thrash around at the feeling of being full. His fingers were short but God did they feel good when he had you like this, spread out, pliant for him with only a few commands to make your Prince please you just right.

You held his head close to you, making him moan at the feeling of being commanded to make you cum. His fingers pistoned steadily in and out, and you hoped vaguely that it was in preparation for his cock to enter you - not that you needed any preparation with the way his lips were sliding around your pussy messily. You found yourself bouncing back onto his fingers, letting out whines and whimpers when he sucked your clit just right.

All of a sudden, like a sudden crescendo, your orgasm hit you. It hit in what felt like a burning, ecstatic full hour in which you thought you may ascend to the high heavens, dripping hole clenching around your Prince’s fingers tightly as you came. Your jaw dropped in a loud moan, one hand pushing Felix’s head further into you - although it was impossible - and the other digging into the armrest behind you in lieu of letting out the passion you felt. You thrashed, whining out as your orgasm went on, and on, until you were left a panting mess on the couch, sweat slicked back sliding around where your shirt had ridden up in your flurry of movement.

Felix pulled away when your hand on his head went slack, licking his lips. Despite his efforts to clean them up, his lips were still covered in a sheen from your juices and looked plush and ruined. His cheeks blushed, forehead just slightly sweaty. With a quick movement, he was kissing you, flicking his tongue against the seam of your mouth so it parts to allow his tongue inside, you letting out a little sigh once your tongues meet.

He kept kissing you, a filthy exchange of tongues and spit over and over again, building the arousal back up in your gut like the formation of an avalanche. You could taste your orgasm on his lips, making you moan, stifled by his mouth. By the time your lips separate, he’s looking at you expectantly with flushed cheeks and you’re out of breath, staring back at him.

“You gonna pump me full, Lixie?” You whispered, your low tone making him scrunch his eyes shut and nod feverishly. He was unbuttoning his trousers with one hand, pushing them down lithe legs and throwing them on the floor. Just as quick as he’d rid himself of the offending fabrics, he was laying back on the couch in the position he had been prior to eating your pussy, erection straining heavily in his boxers. It looked painfully hard, a small patch of precum staining the black fabric even darker.

“Ride me. Fuck, please, please, sugarplum. Ride me, please, all yours,” He was babbling, shifting up onto his forearms, and you managed to pull your t-shirt off on the way to straddling him. His hips were slender between the ample flesh of your thighs, and you felt powerful above him as he looked up at you, blonde strands staticy and splayed against the armrest.

You teasingly ground into his bulge, staring down at him all the while, trying to prevent your eyes from rolling back into your head at the feeling. The fabric of his boxers was the perfect friction against your overstimulated clit, and his hands instantly went into your hips at the movement, gasping out. His hips thrusted up into you and jolted you slightly on his lap.

“Want it inside, Pixie?” You heaved out a deep breath, making him nod. He’d started to babble again, little incoherent deep sentences. You ignored what he was saying, pulling down his boxers just enough to allow his length to emerge, red and leaking. “Oh, look at that. You look desperate.”

“I- I am,” Felix nodded determinedly. “Need your pussy, my Queen. God, please, just- oh my God-“

He was effectively silenced by you sinking down onto his length, wet hole embracing him in one slick slide. You let out a soft moan, rocking slightly to try and get your hole to accommodate the thickness that had breached you. He looked debauched, lips still wet and hands clutching your hips tightly as he let out deep moans and whimpers.

You started to bounce once your pussy felt like it was burning with need, letting his thick cock fill you up over and over. The slaps of skin and wetness briefly made you feel embarrassed, but you ignored it, focusing on the blissful expression on Felix’s face.

“That’s-That’s so… so good, shit,” He panted, trying to let you take control and keep his hips still. It was difficult, that much you could see by the jilting of his hips every now and again. You leaned back on your hands, gripping his thighs for purchase as you rolled over his length at a steady pace. His eyes were lit up by the fire, images of flames in the whites of his eyes reflecting the deep need burning inside of him.

You were quickly losing all sense of rationality, hips faltering over him a few times as you struggled to keep your pace. “Feels- so fucking good, Lix, I-I-“

Your Prince shifted upright, nose just barely brushing against yours and the angle changing inside of you. Just a little more that way, you thought, and- there, that’s it, shit. You gasped when he brushed your g-spot, bouncing you slowly on his cock to just let his cockhead rest on that spot inside of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands moving to grip his shoulders tightly.

“It’s okay, sugarplum, I-I got you. That nice and deep, yeah? Yeah? Am I hitting it?” He mused, and you nodded eagerly, trying not to writhe around on top of him. “Think it’ll take?” You opened your eyes confusedly.

“T-Think what’ll take..?”

“Me breeding you, sugarplum. Is the cock so good you’ve gone all stupid on me?” You moaned out at his choice of words, statements from your deepest desire making your hole clench nice and tight around him. He simply smiled fondly at you, letting his warm staccato breaths fan over your face. You felt yourself getting wetter as he started to lean back with you in his arms, keeping that same angle with his hips. “C’mere. Lay flat.”

You were confused again, but you trusted him, so you let him hold onto your waist tightly and shift you onto his front. You felt the ridges of his abdominal muscles press against your tummy, making you try to grind your clit up to gain stimulation from them. He simply cooed at you, soothing you with warm circles drawn on the small of your back before he was thrusting up into you frantically.

You were sure you’d screamed. It was so overwhelming like this, so deep, so thick, so full - you were contemplating if you could cum just from his cockhead bullying into your g-spot. It quickly became apparent to you after a few especially punishing thrusts that yes, you could.

Moving to start chasing your orgasm for the second time, you ground down against him, rendering him speechless as he gazed down at you. He still had you pinned to his chest with a firm grip, and with another shift of his hips he was fucking you at a frantic pace, matching the grinding you were giving him.

“Oh, Lix- Lix, I- I think I’ll-“

Felix nodded in the crook of your neck, watching your asscheeks bounce on his thighs as he took you hard, over and over. He was slurring into your skin. “I’m gettin’- getting fucking- so close, so close-“

“Keep- like that, like that, deep, deep! I’ll- oh my God, oh my God, oh my-“

Stars burst behind your eyelids and you screwed them shut tight, body shuddering in his tight hold as you came around his cock. You registered something wetter, a gush of fluids exploding from you in your orgasm, but you just continued to grind against him, clenching tight.

Felix believed he had died in that moment. “Oh- Oh my God, it’s so wet- so, so, fuck, you squirted, you squirted, I’m-“ Felix was biting his lip hard, almost causing blood to form where his teeth pressed into the thicker section of skin. You kissed his cheek in a daze, eyes half lidded as you let him use your dripping cunt for his pleasure. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah, yeah, sugarplum- fucking squirted, so wet, so fuckin’ wet and tight just for me-“

His jaw dropped in a silent moan at the same second his hips halted mid-thrust. You saw his eyes fluttering, rolling back into his head just as he released inside of you with thick, hot spurts. You aided him in that moment, soft grinds to coax out the rest of his cum inside of you. He pinched your hips harshly when he was done, causing you to squeak and stop moving, gazing up at him. You knew you had heart eyes in that moment - he’d made you squirt, for fuck’s sake.

A beat passed, his cock softening inside of you. His eyes were still shut as he tried to catch his breath, hands falling to smooth up and down your thighs. You felt the puddle when you spoke. “I didn’t even know I could do that.”

Felix sighed. “Please do that all the time, sugarplum.”

After getting cleaned up, Felix had put out the fire and taken you to bed where he’d pulled the blanket over you. You felt sated, muscles relaxed as you stretched out your legs on the soft mattress. He sidled in next to you, throwing his arm over your middle and pecking your cheek cutely.

“I love you, sugarplum. We’ll work on a game plan tomorrow, yeah?”

You hummed, eyes already feeling heavy. “Yeah. Love you too, Pixie.”

You felt content, pulling the blanket up to your chin and fluttering your eyes shut peacefully.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You and Felix had a plan.

It echoed your previous plan, but made a smile come to your face when you realised this was one you had made together. You were going to make up a whole schedule, activities you could do simply such as donating to charity - which you’d already been doing, who has the need for that much money realistically? But this act of good needed to be continued - and the plan that had taken place a few days after you’d created it.

Chan’s wife’s family was coming to visit. Being royals from a different kingdom, the whole town was celebrating and wanting to show off how amazing the town was to impress the other royal family. After all, they were part of your own royal family now, something that had greatly satisfied the public. Chan’s wife’s younger sister, a five-year-old Princess, was your main focus. Not only did you want to meet her anyway, Chan’s wife had decided it would be a great idea for you to go to the fruit orchard near the palace and pick some fruit together, the three of you.

You’d initially been apprehensive, given that Felix wouldn’t be present and you could be extremely fucking awkward when he wasn’t. But, she’d wanted to help, and she was favoured by the public too. It couldn’t help to have her in your company. That, and she’d become somewhat of a friend to you since the wedding. It felt weird to have real friends that weren’t Felix’s friends. It was something you were learning to embrace, and you tried not to overthink the actions you did after the outings.

You stood outside Chan and his wife’s chambers, next door to yours and Felix’s. It made you briefly recognise that you were very thankful that Felix hadn’t been next door to his mother, given what took place between the two of you on the regular. Chan wasn’t much of a better option though, with his teasing quips and boyish smile. You’d dressed nicely for the day, in a simple mid-length dress that was dark navy and long-sleeved, in case you got fruit juices on it. Felix had tried to jump your bones - for some unknown reason, the dress was probably the most conservative you’d ever worn - before you’d left but you’d managed to push past him with a teasing smile and a promise for ‘later’.

Chan’s wife bustled out of the room, a small child in her arms who was wiggling around impatiently. The Princess, you assumed, with her chubby cheeks and big round eyes. Her features echoed her elder sister, but in a more youthful, innocent way. She was in a little pink dress, a white cardigan slung over her small shoulders. You grimaced internally at the thought of fruit smearing over the light fabrics.

“Hi! This is my sister, Nari. She’s a little quiet, but-”

“Hello,” The little girl spoke, waving at you with a chubby hand. “We’re getting fruits today.”

You giggled, waving back at the little girl. “Yeah, we’re gonna go get fruit, all of us. Are you excited, Nari?”

Chan’s wife blinked at the younger girl. “Well, she’s normally quiet, but clearly not today.”

You found the little girl trailing next to you on the way to the orchards, her small hand wrapped around yours. She insisted on not being next to her sister, and you honestly felt like the shiny new toy to play with for the child - but you were fine with it. She was really cute, and it made you wish you’d had some siblings of your own growing up. You didn’t even notice the public taking pictures of you on their phones, too engrossed with the little girl telling you about her recent adventure all the way to get here.

“It took two whole sleeps to get here! Did you know that?”

Chan’s wife looked at you, shaking her head fondly at the younger. “It wouldn’t have taken two whole sleeps, sweetie, but our mother said you insisted on napping in the car. Twice,” She turned to you. “It takes a few hours. At most.”

You nodded, trying to hold back a laugh, but the little girl carried on telling her story as if her sister hadn’t corrected her. You eventually arrived at the fruit orchards, somewhere you hadn’t been an awful lot. It was lined with peach trees, given that they were in season, and your mouth watered. You loved peaches. So did Felix, actually, and you made a mental note to grab yourself an overflowing wicker basket of the sweet fruit to share later on.

Speaking of wicker baskets, your new friend had brought three, holding them in her hands dutifully. You assumed one was for her and Chan, one for you - and Felix, now - and one for Nari.

Nari was still chirping happily alongside you about some other story, you weren’t sure which. She was definitely still in the hyperactive phase of childhood, bouncing from one story to another and telling you random facts from a completely different one. You found yourself nodding along still, letting out ‘ooh, really?’ at what seemed like the right time. Nari was satisfied, her smile growing wider the more that you contributed to her tall tales.

Once you actually got set up, baskets in hands, Nari had run off to the other end of the orchard to grab some peaches off of a much lower tree, where she could just about reach on her tip-toes. You smiled, rather fondly. She really was cute. Just the sight of her in her smart little shoes and dress made you wish again that you had a sibling - or even a child of your own. It must be so beautiful to be able to spend time like this with a young mind.

Chan’s wife shook her head, laughing when you started to make your way down to Nari. “You can leave her there to tire herself out. We can still see her,” She smiled at you. You nodded, still sparing Nari a glance. “I wanted to chat with you, anyway.”

Your chest tightened, mind racing. What could it be? Had she heard something from you and Felix last night?

“Nothing bad, sweetie. Don’t panic,” She admonished, watching your eyes widen. You turned away, starting to pick peaches from the trees and still sparing Nari a glance every now and again to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t more than six feet away from you, really, but you still felt a duty of care over the little girl. “So, I’m sure you’ve been wondering why my family’s visiting.”

You started to fill the basket, humming. She’d followed you, her slender hand, nails perfectly polished appearing in front of you to start grabbing the ripe fruit. “You mean it’s not for our incredibly famous peach orchard?”

She gave you a rewarding laugh. “Unfortunately, no. It’s being announced soon. That Chan’s abdicating,” Your hand halted on one of the round peaches. “I thought you should know, since you’re technically the most important person involved. No one really knows yet, but it’s coming, in a week or so. It means the coronation will also be quite soon.”

You blinked. The most important person involved? She sure thought highly of you. The greenery of the tree leaves had started to look jarring against the light pink of the peaches. “Ah.” You said, rather intelligently.

“Yeah, ah,” She chirped. She’d filled up her basket rather quickly, and had started to continue to fill yours while you just stared at the fruit. You were grateful, but the entire situation had you feeling slightly cornered, as if there were ulterior motives to you meeting. “The abdication will be announced, then the coronation will be announced pretty much a few days after, and then me and Chan will move back to my kingdom. For me to become Queen.”

“Are you nervous?” You blurted.

She let out another comforting laugh, nodding. “I’m really fucking nervous, to be honest. It’s something Chan has always encouraged me to do, though. He seems more than ready to leave Felix in charge of the throne of the kingdom. He thinks it’ll be in capable hands.”

You found yourself agreeing. That wasn’t something you could deny. “Felix loves this kingdom. He loves his people, and they really love him.” You sounded resentful at the end, and your friend picked up on it, elbowing you softly.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” She chided you. “People have been taking so many pictures since we got here. They’re going to love you, sweetie. It just takes a bit of warming up. You know, maybe you could get knocked up or something, since it doesn’t sound to me like you’ve been struggling in that department-”

You squeaked, slamming your hand over her mouth in a flurry of movement. Being confident in the bedroom and being able to embrace that elsewhere was a difficult task to complete. Chan’s wife simply chortled behind your palm while your jaw was dropped at her choice of language, so common and straight up crude for a soon-to-be Queen. You couldn’t say much, actually. If anyone heard the language you and their beloved Prince used they’d probably have a heart attack and exile you both. Do people still exile? You realised you had to brush up on your modern royal knowledge, and you also realised you were still holding your hand over the woman’s mouth. Promptly dropping it, you scowled playfully.

“Okay. I guess I kinda had wondered if you’d heard us.”

“Oh, don’t get me started. I always wonder if you hear me and Chan when we-”

“Look, look! I got peaches,” Nari suddenly appeared next to you, barely carrying the basket that was only a quarter full. You almost laughed at the way the little girl had interrupted you, but instead leaned down to ruffle her hair.

“Awesome, Nari. Shall we head back? We can wash them and then you can eat some, yeah?”

Nari nodded eagerly, eyes wide. Chan’s wife pinched her chubby cheek fondly, and all three of you set off home.

After having a very fun, satisfying day, you hoped the public would see you differently.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Today was the day. It would be announced that Chan was abdicating. You’d helped Felix dye his hair a dark brown the night before, because apparently he needed a brand new hair colour when it’s announced that he’d be the new heir to the throne.

You stood in the mirror the morning of the announcement, brushing sweaty palms down your loose, pastel blue dress. It was off-shoulder, a mid-length dress with a conservative a-line that you’d paired with some small black kitten heels. To be honest, you kind of thought that you looked as if you were going to an office job, but when Felix had placed his chin on your shoulder he’d insisted you looked ravishing. You thought he had to say that, or you wouldn’t be the one fucking him every night.

You’d arrived hand in hand to the main hall, smiling fakely at the cheers of the nobles and the selective part of the public that had arrived at the announcement. They didn’t even like you, so why the fuck were they cheering? You tried to push that thought to the back of your head, listening to the clicking of your heels as you and Felix both arrived on the stage, taking your seats off to the side. No one knew what this announcement was for, apart from the royal family and their staff. Not that that mattered anyhow - people were already bouncing off of the walls with excitement at Felix’s new hair colour. He’d given an award-winning Prince-like smile as he walked down the hall.

The hall was decorated accordingly, the kingdom’s designated colour splashed everywhere in the form of balloon garlands and ribbons. There were some splashes of violet, the colour of Chan’s wife’s kingdom. It was meant to be a happy announcement, judging by the way it had been promoted and decorated. It probably would be happy, with Felix’s popularity.

Speaking of Felix, his thumb stroked circles onto your hand. He turned to you and mouthed ‘you’ll be okay’, full lips forming over the words subtly. You believed him, because you believed everything your Prince said.

Chan took to the stand, a podium standing solely in the middle with a mic for him to speak into. Felix and Chan’s mother stood aside of him, crown structured on her head perfectly. Chan’s wife stood on the other side, giving the crowd an effortless, perfect wave. You wished you could be like her.

“Hello, everyone,” Chan spoke into the mic, giving a pearly white smile. “I’ve decided to be the one to give the announcement today. I hope that’s alright with you all?”

The crowd applauded, because of course they did. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, and instead gave a small clap yourself. Felix looked proud of you.

“I’m going to get to the point rather quickly, so that we can get to the festivities even quicker,” Chan giggled. A few murmurs and laughs were heard from the crowd in lieu of a response. “I’m sure it is common knowledge by now that my mother, your Queen, intends to abdicate in order to give me the title of King, before she gets older. I want to thank you all for the warm welcome you’ve given me in regards to this.”

Chan’s wife was rubbing soothing circles at the small of Chan’s back, over the intricately designed suit he was wearing. He was still giving his best smile, mouth formed as if it was the only thing he ever did - grin boyishly.

“I want to announce though, that I intend to also abdicate, too,” He spoke, and the crowd went quiet. “My wife belongs to her kingdom, and I’m nothing but a feminist. I want the best for my love, and as such, I wish for her to be the Queen of her own kingdom, rather than my Queen Consort. I hope you can understand and respect my decision.”

Another few murmurs were heard, a few people nodding solemnly. Felix got up right on cue, going to replace the Queen’s position on Chan’s side. It was time. You stayed in your seat. You thought you could remember that this is where you were meant to stay, until it was time to promote and smile in the festivities afterwards.

“Therefore, I wish to announce that my younger brother, Prince Felix, will be the heir to the throne. His coronation will take place in a few days. I understand this is fast for you all, but I hope you can accept the change with open arms. Thank you for everything you have done for me and my family.” His speech ended with a nod, and there was silence over the whole hall. You waited anxiously with bated breath.

Then, the whole crowd stood up to clap. You cringed slightly at the corniness of it all, but a royal family always had people feeling as though they were in a film. Everyone was cheering, applauding and laughing, happy that the young Prince who had done so much for them would be taking to the throne. Felix simply smiled, nodding and saying little ‘thank you’s in different directions to the crowd. He clapped his hands together triumphantly when Chan moved away, letting Felix take to the mic.

The crowd immediately went quiet, watching him expectantly. They still stood however, dressed in all their finery and looking a damn sight more comfortable in it than you thought you did. “Wow, thank you all for the praise,” He spoke, deep voice rasping over the speakers. You tried to ignore the way your stomach twisted at his deep tone. Now was not the time. “I want to thank you also for the support you’ve given towards my wife, soon to be the Queen Consort.” He motioned to you.

Oh, no. He was lying to their faces and there’s no chance in Hell they would deny it, is there? He was basically forcing their approval, forcing them to admit they liked you, all because you’d shown slight sadness at finding out they didn’t think you were worthy. He was doing it to make them praise you, make them appreciate you. It was kind of…

No, okay, it was really fucking sexy. Seriously, you groaned internally, do you ever stop thinking about sex?

“I appreciate it may have been difficult to understand when we got married. She’s not from a royal background like me, but she is of great poise and elegance. I personally can’t think of anyone better for my Queen Consort, and I’m sure you all agree,” You looked out at the crowd at his words, giving a soft wave. Surprisingly, you saw people start to nod and smile at you. Did your outing the other day work? Or did Felix’s speech just demand respect for you? Either way, you were pleased.

You planned to show Felix just how pleased you were.

Later on, in the festivities, you even found the same noble from the night of your engagement party coming over to speak to you. He stood in front of you again, salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly. You blanched. He’d cornered you last time and you’d panicked. You’d have to do better this time. You stood with a plate of cheeses and fruit in your hand, having been picking at the selection since Felix abandoned you to go and speak to someone regarding his plans for foreign alliances.

“Oh, hello,” You bowed, rather gracefully if you did say so yourself. He bowed in return, smiling brightly. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Indeed, I am,” He responded. You looked out to the crowd of people eating and drinking wine. Where the fuck was Felix when you needed him, for Christ’s sake? “I do hope to apologise to you, however. I admit we all had our hesitations about you becoming Queen Consort, if the rumours of Chris’ abdication were to be true.”

“Oh. Wow. Yes, I understand.” You were feeling timid, cheeks blushing in embarrassment. You bit on a small block of cheese just to have something to do while he stared you down.

“I wish to apologise for that, Princess. We were very quick to judge. You’ve since shown such elegance, on the outing with the two foreign Princesses. It was lovely to see you enjoying it in such a sophisticated manner,” He praised you. You blushed even harder, grabbing another tiny piece of cheese from the plate held in your hand to chew on. You were going to stink of cheese if you didn’t stop eating out of awkwardness, you thought. “That, and it’s very impressive that you continue to be by the Prince’s side.”

Wow. This guy was actually being so nice. He hadn’t even dropped any bomb questions on you like before, maybe-

“Any plans for heirs soon, may I ask?” There it was. You choked on your piece of cheese, covering your mouth and trying to cough it down. God, please go down, you thought, you can’t fucking risk spitting cheese out on this guy. Weirdly, the guy simply laughed, a bellowing laugh that echoed around the hall but didn’t cause anyone to jolt in surprise. “I do love asking questions like that, I am sorry. I’ll leave you to continue with your night.”

You managed to swallow the piece of cheese. You waved at him a bit too late, as he’d already started to walk away laughing, but you still shouted out after him. “Lovely to speak to you!” Oh, God. Could you get any more fucking awkward?

You both arrived back to your room late, the sun already down and the moonlight glowing through the curtains. Felix immediately stripped off to his boxers, grumbling about the suit being tight and too ‘constrictive’. You giggled, kicking your heels off and joining him on the bed when he sprawled out on it, arms splayed wide.

You laid your head on his chest, still in your dress that you’d shucked up to your hips with your movement onto the comfortable bed. You just couldn’t be bothered to get changed yet, worn out from the big day. He’d pulled the canopy down on the four posters around the bed before you’d left, and the sheer fabric obscured you slightly from the rest of the room. “Did so well today, Pixie.”

“Mm, yeah?” His chest vibrated with the deep timbre of his voice, his arm curling around you to hold you tighter. “I’m glad. I really tried to do well, sugarplum. They like you now.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “Only because you told them to, baby.”

“Hey, absolutely not. Peachgate worked a charm,” Felix mused. You’d had so much fun devouring all of the peaches afterwards, and your kisses had tasted of the sweet juice for hours later.

You blushed at the thought of your kisses with each other, normally wet and filthy. Oh, yeah. You almost forgot you’d been planning on showing him just how well he’d done.

“Lixie?”

“Yeah, sugarplum?”

“You really did so well today,” You shifted, still laying on your side but starting to kiss his neck. His head rolled to the side to give you better access, him immediately understanding what you intended to do. “Wanna show you, yeah? I wanna show you how good you are, Pixie.”

Felix groaned when you bit slightly into his collarbone, fingers winding to push your hair out of your face so he could see you. “You gonna let me have that sweet pussy?”

“Hmm, maybe later,” You mused, fingers moving to brush against the waistband of his underwear. His jaw went slack instantly at the contact. “Gonna suck this cock first. Want to worship you, is that okay?”

Felix nodded, his breath coming out heavy now. “Of course, sugarplum. You’re gonna let me cream that pretty mouth, yeah?”

Oh. You stifled a moan, nodding frantically in response. Then, you said something that would mortify you in any other situation, but you had a feeling it would break Felix’s brain. “Absolutely, my King.”

Felix’s eyes widened. With a swift movement, he was grabbing your waist, kissing you chastely as if he was apologising for what he was about to do. He pushed you down between his legs by his shoulder, your face positioned just slightly above his boxers. His cock was already starting to fatten with arousal, thickness pressing against the fabric and rendering it sheer like the canopy surrounding you.

“You better get my cock in that mouth now or so help me God.”

You blinked up at him in surprise. It took a moment before you realised what you had intended to do, and your fingers were dragging down his boxers, revealing the cock you were so well-acquainted with. This time, your eyes focused on the full, heavy balls underneath his shaft too. You wanted them in your mouth.

Leaning forward, you ran your tongue over his leaking cockhead before curling your fingers around the base of his length. Felix let out a shuddering breath, encouraging you to continue. With a swift movement, you sunk your head down to engulf the amount of his length that you could manage without choking, using your hand to pump the rest.

“O-Oh, yeah. That’s good,” Felix hummed, spreading his legs wider for you to have greater access to him. You continued to bob your head, tongue swirling around the underside of his shaft up to his cockhead. You swallowed down any precum that accumulated in the slit. Ensuring the blowjob got wet and messy with spit, you pulled off to pump his shaft, slick with the remnants of your mouth. In a brief moment of confidence, you lowered your head and then you were sucking his balls into your mouth.

He jolted sharply, almost kicking you. He let out a high, broken moan, letting you swirl your tongue around his balls and suck sharply. “Ah- ah, that’s filthy, fuck- yeah, yeah, sugarplum, shit, that’s it. Dirty girl.”

You moaned against his skin, letting his balls slide out of your mouth with a pop and returning to suckle on his cockhead. He let one hand go down to your head, pushing your hair back off of your face so he could see you, and you gazed up at him with wide eyes.

“D-Don’t stop looking at me like that, sugarplum,” Felix slurred out, grabbing you softly by the hair to pull you off of his cock. “Fuck, can I…? Hhnnng- can you- can you open your mouth, stick your tongue out, please? Fuck, always thought about this, shit.”

You felt yourself burst with happiness at those words - that he’d always imagined this, before you followed his instructions. You opened your mouth and let your tongue loll out obediently. Before you could process why he’d asked you to do this for him, he was gripping his length and slapping the cockhead against your tongue. You could feel humiliation pooling inside of you, but it was overwhelmed by intense arousal.

Felix started to jerk his cock in front of your face, his small hand making it look so thick. He was frantic, jerking at his shaft intensely while he looked at you, grunting every so often when his cockhead managed to hit your tongue again. It was so filthy.

“That- oh, oh, yeah, that’s it- fuck- gonna, gonna-“ He let out another high, broken sound as ropes of white cum started to cover your tongue. You were quick to wrap your lips back around his tip, suckling and milking his balls of the rest of the cum he had to give you. Eventually, he fell back boneless, his eyes hazy. “Oh my God.”

You giggled, licking your lips clean. Weirdly enough, you felt so content that you’d worshipped his cock so well that you didn’t feel the need for your own orgasm, sidling up to him in bed. “Good?”

“Good?” Felix scoffed, turning to look at you. Once he looked at you he giggled cutely, leaning to nuzzle his nose against yours. He pulled you in closer before he spoke. “Fucking amazing, sugarplum. You blew my fucking mind.”

“You blow mine everyday, Pixie.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You were a Queen Consort. Officially, in full blown fucking writing. Black and white. Plain as day, your name, followed by the title of Queen Consort in swirly, intricate writing. Shit was getting serious. You were the Queen Consort, and the love of your life was the King.

The coronation had gone well. It was a process you’d honestly zoned out a little for, beneath all of the finery and decorations draped around the palace. There’d been a horse and carriage, or something. You weren’t sure. You honestly weren’t as involved as you’d presumed.

You had stood in front of the kingdom, however - it was being broadcasted on TV also for the people who couldn’t attend - when they’d announced your brand new title. Your mother had bawled. The Queen herself had actually also sobbed. Everyone in the crowd had even cheered, so they really did like you now.

You thought of your journey, from a scarred-knees type of kid in your long white socks who followed Felix around intently to where you were now. Some days, you still felt like a fraud - this had all happened in a few months. You’d gone from believing your love was unrequited, never to be returned to being married to the only man you’d ever love. You even got to fuck him every night, so that was a bonus.

You’d held a bouquet of baby’s breath at the coronation on Felix’s request. Blinking down at it while people cheered, you felt weirdly content. You’d do your best to serve the country, even if you still felt like the same young girl with an unrequited love for her best friend.

When his dainty hand was placed upon the small of your back and a small kiss was pressed to your forehead, wholly real and unfalse despite the fact that you were in front of so many people, you shook that thought out of your head. You were there, present and a different person to what you’d previously been.

It had taken a while to get here, but one thing you were absolutely sure of: you’d been in love with Lee Felix for as long as you could remember, and he loved you back unconditionally.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Epilogue

You stared at the offending object in front of you. Was it offending, really? Hadn’t you both wanted this, even beneath the whole dirty talk facade of it all?

The pregnancy test felt like it was taunting you, two blue lines clear as day. What the actual fuck? It made sense, really, you mused, finger tapping your chin comically as you thought. You’d been feeling nauseous, yeah. You’d missed your period, and maybe your tummy was feeling a little bloated and swollen. All the signs of a baby, really.

Okay, yeah. It made perfect sense. You were fucking pregnant.

When the door to your room shut, you panicked. You’d been in the ensuite staring at the test for so long that you’d completely forgotten that Felix was due home at any point now. You didn’t know what the fuck to do, and in your brief panic, you wrapped the pregnancy test up in toilet roll and attempted to flush the test down the toilet. Not your brightest moment, you’ll admit.

Especially when the toilet water started rising, and your heart started beating extremely quickly.

A knock on the door made you exclaim in surprise, pressing your back against the bathroom door as if the lock wouldn’t stop him from coming in. You had to have that extra barricade. You looked down at your tummy, hand smoothing over your skin. There was a whole fucking baby in there. Okay, no, it probably wasn’t a baby yet. It was just a bunch of cells chilling in your womb with no care in the world, if a bunch of cells could even think and contemplate life.

“Sugarplum? Are you in there?”

Your eyes widened. Oh, no. “U-Um, yeah. Welcome back Lixie. You can’t come in.”

You heard a giggle from the other side of the door. “Why not? I’ve seen you pee before-“

You blushed, still staring at the toilet. The test floated in the water menacingly. You wanted to punch it, and then yourself. “Um. I’m not peeing, I’m in the shower.”

“Oh. Okay, I can’t hear it, but I’ll just… I’ll go then. See you when you’re done, sugarplum,” Felix was still chirping happily. You grimaced. He needed to know.

“Wait.” You turned around, taking a deep breath. You could practically feel his presence on the other side of the door, as if you were psychic. He was waiting patiently. You reached up, sliding the lock open and opening the door just a crack. He stared at you, eyes wide and gazing at your appearance. You most definitely weren’t in the shower, and were standing there awkwardly, fully clothed and cheeks red. He thought you looked absolutely radiant.

You thought he did, too. He’d been horseback riding by the looks of it, probably with Chan as he was visiting. He was still clad in tight trousers, boots taken off but a tight suit jacket still zipped up around his lithe frame.

“I got somethin’ to show you, so. Come in.”

Felix looked confused. You didn’t blame him. You opened the door wider and yanked him into the lavish ensuite. He stood there with his eyes closed and lips pursed, trembling as if he was very close to laughing at your expense. You pointed at the toilet, trying hard not to be bothered at his amusement.

“Look.”

You knew this would appear insane to anyone else, but Felix’s eyes opened anyway, staring at the toilet. The pregnancy test still floated there, bobbing like an apple in a tub of water on Halloween.

“I tried to flush it. I dunno why. Panicked.”

“Is that-? Sugarplum…?” He was speechless. Oh God. You nodded anyway, clutching onto his arm as if you were scared he’d run. “That’s a pregnancy test?”

You nodded again.

He took a deep breath. “And it’s…? It’s in the toilet. Why is it in the toilet, sugarplum?”

“Um. I flushed it, because it’s positive, and I panicked when you got back,” You blushed. You were so fucking stupid sometimes. “I’m pregnant. Didn’t know how to tell you, so… I’m just telling you.”

Felix blinked. “Isn’t it kinda menacing right now? It’s just staring at us.”

You gasped. “That is exactly what I thought, isn’t it so fucking creepy? It’s like a knife or something. Sinister.”

It seemed that in that moment, the reality of the situation hit Felix, and he turned to you, looking at your belly with wide eyes. He looked up at you. Then yet again, he looked at your belly.

Then, he let out a blood-curdling yell, picking you up and swinging you around the room. You screamed in surprise, clenching onto his shoulders.

“You’re pregnant! Shit! You’re pregnant, oh my God! We’re gonna have a little mini me running around,” Felix was still yelling as he ran with you in his arms back to the room. He looked as if he was going to throw you onto the bed for a cuddle, but instead, he chose to place you down delicately after having a moment to think. He was smiling from ear to ear, moving to his knees to deliver a sweet peck to your tummy. “Little baby in there. Mini me. Or mini you. Little fucking bean.”

“It’s just a bunch of cells right now, Lix,” You giggled when he kept kissing your belly. “It’s not a living thing.”

“No, but it will be my baby. I’m gonna wait on you hand and foot, not gonna be allowed to do anything for nine months. Y’hear me, sugarplum?” You nodded in response. He started muttering in disbelief. “Fuckin’ pregnant. No wonder you’ve been looking so radiant, sugarplum. I’ve been wanting to fuck you senseless every day!”

You gasped at his words, and again when he was quickly looming over you to give you your own kisses.

You moaned when he started kissing your neck. “‘M gonna fuck you senseless, sugarplum. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you more, Pixie, my King.”

END.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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silassinclair · 1 month

Note

Hi!

Can I request Maddox with a darling who lives to read, maybe he catches her reading some old romance books in an abandoned house they shack up in or something like that

Btw I live your writing ♥️

As someone who loves to read I am obligated to write for this req 😤🫡 Thanks for the request tho!! Hope you like it :-)

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Bookworm Reader

CW// Maddox is annoying, Reader being a little perv Masterlist Here!!

The new house Maddox found was lovely. It had decently okay furniture and a vast collection of old books on the shelf. It's small with only two bedrooms and one bathroom but it was charming. But what caught your interest was the big oak wood bookshelf. You couldn't even remember the last time you picked up a book. Being on the run with Maddox made time fly.

"Who would leave all these books behind? They're all in great condition." You mutter to yourself as you take a blue and purple book with gold trim off the shelf. Tracing your fingers down the spine of the hardcover novel you appreciate the craftsmanship. It was clearly expensive, something you could no longer afford. Your Dad bought you many books like these but now you were pretty much broke. You only had Maddox to rely on now.

Speaking of Maddox you had no clue where he was. Which you didn't really care, he always disturbed your peace. Cracking open the book you sit down on the loveseat and start reading. It was a romance book about a huntsman who fell in love with a duchess. The story was beautiful as it was exhilarating.

"Oh wow, you into that kinda stuff?"

You snap the book shut instantly, a mini cloud of dust poofs from the pages. Maddox chuckles huskily behind you, leaning down and resting his chin on the back of the loveseat.

"Oh don't be embarrassed princess, it was getting to the good part. What did it say again? Oh! Ahem-"

Maddox coughs into his hand and smirks. Deepening his voice he quotes the passage in a deep, British-like accent,

"He caresses the duchess' milky thighs, her womb felt of silk wrapped around his ma-"

"OH HUSH!" You whip around and smack the outlaw's head, his hat nearly flying off. But he only laughs at your flustered state.

"You're filthy." You groan and put the book back on the shelf where it was. But Maddox follows behind you and takes the book into his own hands and opens it up. Skimming through the pages he smirks.

"I'm filthy? Sweetheart you're the one readin' this junk." Maddox shuts the book and puts it back. Putting his hand up on the shelf he leans against it while looking down at your shorter self.

"Well it is a romance book." Rolling your eyes you choose a different book. This time you pick a title you're familiar with, Pride and Prejudice.

"Now leave me alone you brute. I'd like to relax for once." With that you walk away and go outside. Finding a nice tree you sit beneath it and read the book. Reading reminded you of home, the home that was ripped from you. In a way it was escapism which is unhealthy but a girl can dream right?

Hours pass and the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the cloudy sky. The words on the page become harder to read as the sun sinks lower and the moon rises. You didn't want it to end. You know you could read inside but that damn outlaw was inside. You just wanted to stay out here forever with the natural ambience of wind and birds.

Footsteps approach you and you already know who it is. Looking up you see him. Black denim jeans, a burgundy vest, twin revolvers around his waist, and a dark brown cowboy hat on his head. And of course that bandana covering the bottom half of his face. Anytime you asked him about his face he got ticked off so you avoided the subject. But you couldn't help but be curious.

"You're starin' sweetheart." His husky voice breaks the silence. There’s a hint of a Spanish accent mixed in with his Southern drawl. You can't help but think about what it would be like if you and him met under different circumstances. Would he save you from bandits? Offer to buy you a drink at the saloon?

Would you two have a storybook romance just like in the books you adore?

"Hey."

He's right in front of you now, crouched to your height. His gloved hand pets your hair and you're frozen. He has you in a trance that you make no effort to free yourself from. His dark amber eyes are crinkled in slight concern over your unusual silence.

"What..?" You say softly.

"It's gettin' dark. Unless you wanna be dinner for the coyotes then I suggest comin' back in. I'll cook up some beans so hurry your little bum up."

Well there goes the moment. You groan and get up off the grass, your back cracking as you stretch. Your eyes watch as Maddox walks back into the house. His hips sway as he walks, you never really payed attention to that before. His ass looks pretty round in those pants to-

"Ugh, what is wrong with me.." Groaning, you follow after him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #obsession #maddox graves #yandere cowboy #cowboy #western

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hiro-doodlez · 6 months

Text

LIST OF ENGLISH ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS (the random letters that people use sometimes)!! FEEL FREE TO USE AS A REF (reference) SHEET!! In alphabetical too!!

Tone indicators at the bottom!

GENERAL:

AFK- away from keyboard

AKA- also known as

ASAP- as soon as possible

ASL- American Sign Language

B4- before

BC- because

BF- boyfriend

BFF- best friends forever

BTW- By the way

BTS- Behind the scenes/back to school / that one band

BRB- be right back

CW: content warning

Cya- see ya

DM- direct message

DW- dont worry

EZPZ- easy peasy

FB- Facebook

FW: flash warning

FAQ- frequently asked questions

FYI- for your information

GF- girl friend

GG- good game

GJ- Good job

GL- good luck

Gnite- good night

GTFO- get the fuck out

GTG- got to go

Gud- good

H8- hate

HBD- happy birthday

Hella- really

HMU- Hit me up

HW- Homework

IDK- I don't know

IDC- I don't care

IG- I guess / instagram

IK- I know

IKR- I know right

K- okay

Lmao- laughing my ass off

Kewl- cool

Kk- okay

Lol- laugh out loud

ILY- I love you

ILYSM- I love you so much

IMO- in my opinion

IRL- in real life

IYKYK- if you know you know

JFC- Jesus fucking chrkst

Jk- just kidding

L8R- later

LMAO- laughing my ass off

LMK-let me know

LOL- laughing out loud

Mkay- mm okay

NE- Any

NE1- anyone

NGL- not gonna lie

NM- Nothing much

NP: no problem

NSFW- not safe for work

NVM- nevermind

NW- no worries

Obv- obviously

OFC- of course

OMW- on my way

OP- original post(er)

OTP- one true pairing

Ova- over

Pic- picture

Pls-please

Plz-please

POV: point of view

Ppl- people

Prolly- probably

QOTD- quote of the day

R- are

RB- reblog

Ref- reference

Rly- really

RN- right now

RP- role play

RPG-role playing game

RT- retweet

Sec- second

SH- self harm

SMH- shaking my head

SMP- survival multiplayer server (Minecraft) / social media platform (?)

S.O- significant other

Sui- suicide

Sus- suspicious

STFU- shut the fuck up

T- testosterone

TBA- to be announced

TBF- to be fair

TBH- to be honest

TF- the fuck

Thnks- thanks

Thx- thanks

TLDR- too long didn't read (usually a summary)

TMRW- tomorrow

TOS- terms of service

TTYL-talk to you later

TW: trigger warning

Vid- video

WTF- what the fuck

WYD- what are you doing?

YOLO- You only live once

YT- YouTube

YW- you're welcome

—————

If the one youre looking for isnt here, either i forgot or its a fandom! Id suggest looking it up if youre confused!

Extra note: if you see 8 in one of the acronyms, then it usually is used as an “ate” sound. So h8= ate, gr8= great ect.

—————

TONE INDICATORS:

/aff- affectionate

/c- copypasta

/cb- clickbait (?)

/f- fake

/gen- genuine

/genq- genuine question

/half joking

/ij- inside joke

/j- joking

/lyr- lyrics

/lh- light hearted

/lu- little upset

/neg- negative

/nf- not forced

/nm- not mad

/npa- not passive aggresive

/nsrs- not serious

/p- platonic

/pa- passive aggresive

/pos- positive

/q- quote

/r- romantic

/ref

/s- sarcastic

/srs- serious

/t- teasing

/th- threat

I HOPE THIS HELPS!! and if i forgot to add one feel free to send an ask ^^

#hiro.txt #abbreviations #english help #tone indicators

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thisapplepielife · 3 months

Text

Written for the @steddiemicrofic February challenge.

So Here Is Us

February Prompt: Edge | Word Count: 509 | Rating: T | CW: Post-Apocalyptic, Pre-Existing Injury | Tags: Canon Divergence Post-S4, Hurt/Comfort, End of the World, Survival, Just the Two of Us, The World is Bleak, But We're Together

Steve's been walking forever.

He was goddamn certain there was a town nearby, and now he's scared. Scared he's made a mistake. Scared Eddie can't survive him being wrong.

Steve studies landmarks, memorizing his way back to the abandoned building. Back to Eddie. He repeats the directions he's been making up in his head:

Straight towards the burned out car, past the tall tree, turn at mile marker 365…

With no map, he repeats these markers, over and over, making sure he'll be able to find Eddie again, because if he doesn't, they'll both be dead. Eddie from infection; Steve from the insanity of finally being truly alone.

Eddie had looked at him, his expressive brown eyes shining with pain and fever, and begged Steve not to go. Begged Steve not to leave him. Steve hadn't wanted to, had scrubbed his hand over his face, pinching his nose, terrified, and trying not to show it.

But, Eddie can't walk anymore.

So, Steve had to leave him somewhere safe, stashed away from monsters, despite every instinct in his body telling him no, don't because you don't split up. That's rule number one. But, Eddie's got an infected demobat bite on his side, with lines of red shooting upwards, towards his heart. He's balancing on the edge of trouble, real trouble.

Steve's scared to death if he doesn't find antibiotics that Eddie won't survive the next few days. And if Eddie goes…

Eddie can't go, can't leave Steve all alone out here, on the raggedy edge.

Civilization is gone, decimated by Vecna, and yet, somehow they've survived. And Steve needs them to keep surviving. Needs Eddie to keep surviving.

"How will you find me again?" Eddie had asked, sweat dripping down his temples, as he tried to hold back the shiver that wanted to break free.

Steve had held Eddie's overheated face in his dirty hands, and pressed his dry lips to Eddie's, "I'll always find you again."

Now, when Steve finally sees the abandoned small-town pharmacy, he wants to cry. The sign says Steve's Pharmacy, and he wonders if he's dead. If this is a nightmare Vecna's trapped him in.

No. He doesn't have time for a crisis. Eddie doesn't have time for Steve to have a crisis. The door to the pharmacy is standing wide open, already ransacked.

But the pull-down gate over the pharmacy hasn't been breached, somehow, and behind the locked metal barrier are shelves full of pill bottles.

Steve digs in his backpack, gets his bolt cutters, and goes to work. It's hard, nearly impossible, and his hands are blistered and throbbing by the time he's made a hole large enough to squeeze through.

There's a drug reference book on the counter, laid open, abandoned, and Steve reads. Finds the matching bottles, stuffing his backpack full. Taking everything he can carry.

Taking the book, too. They'll need it again, he's certain.

Back on the abandoned street, he starts repeating as he walks:

Turn at mile marker 365, past the tall tree, towards the burned out car…

Notes: This was set in the same little universe as my fic for the November prompt, Miles to Go, was. Can be read alone, or continued there, if you're so inclined.

Title is from a quote from Serenity: "This job goes south, there well may not be another. So here is us, on the raggedy edge."

Picture is from The Walking Dead. I was like, "I need an abandoned pharmacy, like the one that was in that early ep of The Walking Dead. Maybe I can find a screenshot." I did, and but I definitely did not remember it was called Steve's Pharmacy. Hilarious. That was just a gift from the universe, lol.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️

#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficfebruary #thisapplepielife: short fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steddie short fic #steddie fanfiction #thisapplepielife: steddiemicrofic

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robo-milky · 10 months

Text

What if Cloche were to stay in Twisted Wonderland? Worst Case Scenario (Delusion)

CW: BLOOD//GORE (Written?)

(Edgification— My love/j)

Events:

• If Crowley never finds a way to send Cloche back home, Cloche’ position as a prefect is solidified. Cloche would also be granted greater authority over other students.

• The longer Cloche stayed in Twisted Wonderland, the stronger Binding Bells became. Cloche had less of a conscious choice when following orders, and it got to the point where orders become automatic and were harder to reverse. Crowley didn’t take any actions to contain the curse, under the impression most of Cloche’ orders were harmless, until the incident she lost her eye. From that point on, Crowley finally recognized the severity of Cloche’ cursed obedience and set a password on her. The password makes it so that Cloche doesn’t have to follow anyone else’s orders, and that she doesn’t have to address others as “Master/Mistress”.

• Cloche lost her eye to first years who didn’t know any better. The freshmen were skeptical of the curse and wanted to see the full extent of it, so they cornered her when she was alone. They ordered her to freeze to cut her hair, and were surprised Cloche was so complaint. Still under the impression the curse was fake, and cutting hair didn’t cause any physical harm, they went out of their way to order Cloche to take out one of her eyes. Their curiosity turned to horror, when Cloche actually did it. Even if they tried to restrain her, she can’t stop until the order is fulfilled.

• The freshmen weren’t expelled, but suspended and heavily reprimanded. Crowley wanted to keep any and all incidents of violence under the wraps, as best he could. After the incident, Crowley realized Cloche had the potential to kill if ordered so, and temporarily fixed the obedience aspect of Binding Bells.

Changes:

• Cloche becomes more paranoid and stern after the incident. Her emotional apathy also worsens as a result of not being able to go back home. Cloche never felt a big connection to Twisted Wonderland and NRC in the first place.

• Since Cloche is less emotional now, she’s less likely to go feral.

• Cloche takes off her maid accessories and is finally given a form fitting uniform. With her hair cut, she also fits in with the boys more.

• The first year gang (now second year) are more protective of Cloche and keep a closer eye on her (especially ADeuce + Grim)

• Grim acts as Cloche’ second pair of eyes to make up for her worsened depth perception.

• Cloche comes to terms with the fact she may never be human again, and accepts the beastman features as apart of her.

• Unlike her first year self, second year!Cloche takes her role as a prefect more seriously, and actively tattles on troublemakers. She’d even go as far as to document suspicious activity her ear bells pick up on. She’d garner a reputation similar to Riddle. Thanks to Crowley’s protection, she can make reports without worrying about others trying to get revenge on her.

• In place of a magical pen, Cloche wears a NRC badge with a whistle behind it.

[Notes]

• Second Year!Cloche is designed with the intent to foil the Cloche who can return to her world, to foil the Cloche who did get her happy ending.

• I went for a police/military vibe with the design and pose to establish power

• Her iris will be forever shrunk to show the constant paranoia and unease.

• Cloche isn’t necessarily bullied here, but she happened to run into dumb kids who didn’t make the best decisions. The justifications of their actions is up to you

• She is twinning with Leona <3 Both felines with scarred eye ;)

• Shout out to the friend who said quote: “What is wrong with you?” when I showed the OG sketches— everything. Nobody deserves to be happy (except for sweet baby Leikata and Otomine uwu)

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astarionfixation · 28 days

Text

Chapter 6: "It won’t hurt but a moment, darling"

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: Mature for mentions of sex and blood

CW mentions of sexual assault, sex trafficking, panic attacks

Word count count: 6.5k yep, I was away for a week but at least I come bearing gifts words

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/138874459

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

The scene at the inn looks extremely familiar and he's sure some corners of it resemble quite accurately the night before. Except his delusional hopes to find a solution to his current parasite predicament have all but dissolved, yet maybe shape shifted towards an unlikely alliance with her. Small, insignificant human that she is, yet each and every one of his companions seems to have a fascination with her.

And indeed, he catches her eye from across the room, as their accidental mutual friends are buzzing around her, certainly grateful to have their health and strength back without apparent consequences from the night before. And he is sure it's just gratefulness but from the way he sees the wizard getting closer and familiar to her, hand on her shoulder that drops to her hip, certainly with the excuse of the crowd around her, surely he lowers his head and gets his filthy mouth way too close to her ear to make her hear whatever he thinks will impress her.

He finds his teeth gritting and he swears it's just because

*No one gets to tamper with my food!*

In that instant it is almost too convenient that this lovely, smiling barmaid seems intent to care only for whatever he is going to ask, forgetting every other shouting creature that demands her attention for another pint of anything.

“How may I serve you, my lord”

And he has to bite his tongue not to laugh at the epithet, despite how convenient his looks have been in gaining him access to every place -and person- he has ever set his eyes upon.

“Well sweet thing” he begins with his mellifluous tone set to persuade fairies to give up their own light for him. A long, delicate finger reaches for a strand of her straw like hair and wraps around it, inviting her closer so he can whisper to her.

“I would be so, very very grateful if you could get me two glasses of the most precious drink you offer in this fine establishment”

His movements are studied and rehearsed and his brain might as well focus on the corner of his eye, searchin for Her and considering options to send back to Waterdeep different pieces of the mage in different boxes if his excuse for a flirt does not promptly focus on someone, anyone else but Her. He's not jealous, of course not, *of him?!??* And he knows, from her lips, from her mind how all of herself is pulled to him.

*It was my name on her lips last night! My name on her darn little book! Not any wizard from Waterdeep or otherwise!*

He's brought back by the clinking sound of two goblets that are definitely more elegant and rich looking than anything anyone else is holding in the tavern, and he knows once again how far his simple charm can get him. The girl is smiling at him, full of hope, pulling herself closer from behind the bar so that her bosom is almost obscenely exposed in front of him. And he would be lying if he didn't admit to the flattery it always was to see people stumble upon their own feet in an effort to please him, to be chosen by him for the night, blissfully unaware of how that meant their luck had turned on them forever.

A dark flash threatens to take away his attention from the scene and he knows it's much better not to linger on memories. In one of his exaggerated movements he finds the hand of the girl to bring to his lips, his eyes fixed on her cornflower ones. He plants a long, wet kiss that holds so many promises, none of which he will keep, and he lingers a moment longer so she can have her fill of his attention. As he slowly pulls away his index finger goes to tuck a strand of her hair just behind her ear, brushing lightly on her skin and he can tell already: a word and he would have her, she probably wouldn't even make it upstairs. He holds her gaze and her trembling lips just barely audible let him know that

“Not to worry my lord, it's on the house”

*Of course it is, why do you think we were playing this game, darling?*

His hand swiftly abandons her hair to grasp at the glasses, his work done. As he turns around to find in which ways he will have to skin the mage, he realises his lips are way too close to her ear, but her eyes are fixed on… himself. And they are somewhat even darker than usual? The look on her face he would have called imperturbable yesterday reveals something akin to disturbance today.

*Maybe I will actually have to skin the wizard tonight if he's the reason of her bother*

His head moves slightly towards the stairs to give her a sign and immediately he sees her wriggle out of her company and towards the path that leads to the upper floor.

*Still such an obedient little thing*

And he is only too happy to follow.

—-------

“What was that? What did you tell her? Did you give away your secret so easily just hoping she would let you drink from her?!?!”

He's genuinely confused, it takes him a moment to realise she must be referring to the barmaid that he already barely remembers. What did she have the impression was happening? Doesn't she know how he speaks and addresses everyone? How his charm is the one thing he has to keep in control of every exchange?

*Or is she actually Jealous?*

And as he closes the door of her room behind him, the glasses resting now on a surface, he begins to slowly circle -stalk- her just as he just did that afternoon at the glade, his eyes and smile focused completely on her agitated self, the soft traits of her face trying their best to look upset, yet all he can think is just…

*How adorable…*

But this time she's following his movements and turns around to look at him, her back now to the door, and the corner of his lip might be pulling ever so slightly as he considers the possibility of this ruse being just that, that familiarly naughty side of his brain already envisioning her throwing herself at him as they both fall on the bed and

*I might actually let her ride*

“If this is your way of offering yourself instead my dear, I thought we were already clear on the matter. But don't let me stop your plans of persuasion. In fact…”

He takes a step closer and his hand knows already where to find that sweet, pulsating spot just behind her ear, the idea of tearing at the skin and finally finding her sweetness without the need to imagine any longer makes him swallow emptily in anticipation, and his fingers are almost tingling due to the warmth of her skin being so close now and his muscles tense ready to pull her in, fangs almost bared when… she takes a step back?

*What is she playing at? We both know she wants this, she wants me…*

“Come now darling, there's really no need to play coy, at this point it would be only be a waste of time considering what we already shared”

The honey in his words betrays a slight irritation at the distance she put between them, his tone every bit the charming one he has rehearsed thousands of times and has never once failed him.

And thankfully! Thankfully, going through the pages of that little insignificant book allowed him to fill the gaps in ways he truly had no idea.

But now he knows, he has seen it in her eyes, transfixed on him despite the blood, or perhaps exactly because of it.

“But if it pleases your wounded pride you can tell me all about your protestations from your sweetly plump lips while I relieve you of every. single. piece. of clothing. that stands between my mouth and your lovely skin. Because that's what you want, isn't it?”

He knows how to punctuate and accentuate every word to paint an image.

And not that the mere idea isn’t inviting, he feels his own reaction both in his stomach and his crotch. The notion that, for once, he would actually enjoy taking something -He- wanted, -He- needed, for -himself- and not for anyone’s command or amusement, is almost reason enough to make this the version of the story he committed to.

“Don’t tell me that is not exactly what you envisioned whilst you…. How was it?”

And consequences be damned! Let this be a good use of that little vexing book, to cut any avenue she might think of going up to escape her own desire for him.

“ ‘Lay yourself down with my Voice pouring honey in your ears?’ No need to imagine my dear, in fact let me show you…”

*I will not be denied, and I won't let you deny yourself either sweet thing*

This is as good a version as any if it will get him access to her blood, maybe even her body because surely…

“I can't believe the privilege that has been afforded to you to still behave like a child and have people find it charming!”

He is so used to leading the game that this interruption comes too abruptly to leave her unscathed by his anger at seeing his plans crushed.

And if throwing her own words at her didn't make her confess her own desire for him, there is certainly more to use and hurt her from what he can remember of the little insignificant book. Something they share even. His voice comes out as sweet as the choice of words is cruel

“Oh you want to talk about childhood, do you? Do you want to go over how incredibly wise and mature you were “for your age”, darling? How that clever little mind of yours justified every kind of attention you were at the receiving end of because you were just… too enticing”

He inhales to punctuate the next words

“and how flattering that felt for you.”

He went too far. He knows it before he spits out the last word. He can see her jaw clenching and the deep inhale she takes, seemingly vexed whilst really, her heartbeat is telling a different story about the exquisite way his words were just the extension of his dagger at times.

Quick scenarios flash in his mind's eye,

*Is she going to cry? Is she going to storm out? Can she have anything in her arsenal to hit me back with?*

and to that his body stiffens like a spring ready to jump and react, as if any words she next throws at him could physically hit him

*Because isn't it just what I've done to her?*

It was right, it was fair, and he stood up straight with a hint of pride on his face because no stepping down now could mend her from the hurt his words just inflicted on her. He knew exactly what it had touched, he remembered every single *fucking* word he had committed to memory that night he first had his hands on her book. On her mind. He will not admit he even considered the idea they could have bonded over their shared trauma…

“Get out”

*No. No no no! This is all wrong! Where's the attack? Where are the words I can sneak around and throw back at her?! I need to build her up to crush her down! No!*

The fear of losing her anxiety-inducing presence fills his thoughts with venom, and if whatever this was has to come crashing down now, she can be sure she'll get as much damage as the loss of her brings to him.

“Well fine then, I'm sure it won't take me long to find someone kind enough to share their bed and blood with me tonight, in fact you're right, I might just go looking for that lovely barmaid again, she was so eager to please. Believe me darling, I won't be left out in the cold”

Her eyes narrow.

“You're delusional, as if you're the gods gift to every pretty girl who would open her arms and legs to you”

And that's it, that right there is the space between words that he knows will hurt just right, a cold sharp hit from the throat to that spot just above her heart that decides where her lovely colour and warmth will spread next. His crimson eyes narrow and he moves closer to her and when he's just about to move past her and grab the door handle he whispers with his head just slightly bent, so that his breath can hit her skin as much as his words will her heart

“Well… looking at you darling… I thought it was fairly obvious: she doesn't have to be pretty”.

He can feel how her body tensed up. How a strained sound gets trapped in her throat and a sharp inhale through gritted teeth have her swallow. The light of the candles is strangely reflected slightly more intensely by the corner of her eyes and that is how he knows the blow has hit just right and a strange satisfaction takes over in his chest, making him walk just a bit taller, just a bit prouder because all those decades using his body to get what his master demanded turned him into the perfect offering to anyone's desires and the least of his problems will indeed be to find someone, anyone, ready to take him in, if only he's available to give them anything and everything they might want that his body can provide. It doesn't even matter, he won't even have to think, his body has been marked and bent sinuously so many times his mind doesn't have to be there to give anyone anything they might want. Tonight won't be anything more or less special than that and the price for a warm place to sleep *maybe warm blood to drink* is something that comes as second nature to him.

He's out of the door and his feet guide him automatically towards the stairs, his mind trying to focus on the faces of any of the patrons of the inn whose sight might have already lingered a moment too long on him because that's how he knows, how he has always known that his job will be easier, his elegant form already paving the way towards a comfortable place to spend the night in as soon as he gives them what they want, and they all want the same thing anyway. His head shakes as if his mind better not dig further at that thought, and as he takes the first step down he finds his body slouching down instead, coming to sit on the step as his head bends down between his own knees, his long delicate fingers shaking as they pull at the back of his neck so that his head falls just lower and lower.

And among the flashes his mind offers of all the times he had to offer his body as the matter of an exchange for his own survival, a corner of his brain screams at the door now closed behind him and

*how could she let me go out in the cold again??!?*.

His shoulders shrug as he tries to make himself smaller. Maybe spending the night on the stairs is just as acceptable, easier, safer for everyone and safer for him, and how deep his mind must have kept him, attempting to avoid memories of useful seduction techniques coming back to him, to not hear her steps, if not her heartbeat, until the warmth of her hand is once again scorching his neck and he flinches too suddenly for his unaffected facade to remain unbroken.

He tries to turn around, his arms still protecting his face, wrapped around his knees and just his crimson eyes and dark circles peek through, looking at her in a way that might seem unthreatening enough that now her arms have gone circling around his shoulders… and it all suddenly feels warmer and there’s also something… weird, something he can't quite pinpoint, but something that feels like there’s no requirement for each and every one of his senses and instincts to be ready to react.

She breathes loudly, louder than even her need for air requires, and the noise alone should be annoying but after a few breaths he realises his own body is following her rhythm even without the need for it, but the slow, measured breaths are bringing an unexpected calm that washes over his tensed muscles, his jaw unclenches and the grip of his own arms around his knees, so tight he didn't realise it made him tremble, is now getting flushed.

*Because if she has her arms around me I don't need to hold on anymore*

The thought is fleeting and he will deny thinking that, but in the next exhale his body finally relaxes into her warm embrace. She hasn't said anything, done anything but holding him and guiding his breath with her own, and while a slight fear crosses his mind -because if she is to hit him with any word now, he would certainly dissolve- he’s also so tired of the charade by this point he can’t hold onto his persona anymore. It comes as a whisper that a part of him still feels betrayed by sharing, because it is the truth and how will that not be ammunition for her to use at a later time?

But his breath is not his own now, following in unison with hers and so the words escape his pale bloodless lips anyway

“I'm sorry, I couldn't do it, I'm sorry”

She leaves the silence holding space in the air for what feels like an eternity after his shameful confession, but he can suddenly feel her arms pulling him tighter to her. Crouching next to him, his head finds a way to nestle in the crook of her neck where he instinctively inhales deeply and the scent of mulled wine and flowers fills his entire being once again, and besides bringing back a hunger pang down in the depth of his stomach, there is now something almost soothing about what's become so familiar and intrinsically associated with her. He must be so stupid to allow himself to feel what seemingly resembles safety, if nothing else because he never knew what that actually meant, but he's so tired. Tired in a way no rest or trance can bring him peace and so even if her warmth is a lie he's making his peace with it, he'll pay the price in time, but for now he can just slightly rub the tip of his nose on that pulsating spot just behind her ear, her scent emanating from it as a sweet siren song for the beast his fangs belong to, but not without an unexpected and reassuring comfort to some other side of himself, something he hasn't felt stirring in such a long time that he had no reason to believe was still there.

The silence, filled only by their breaths, has become so familiar he might be convinced the stairs could be a welcome spot to spend the night if she keeps holding him like this, but that's when his own train of thought is interrupted by her low whisper

“Come on, come back, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry too”

And at that he shouldn't feel the warmth radiate from every spot their bodies are in contact with each other down to the centre of his stomach, but it does and it's as unfamiliar as it is pleasant. His body follows hers as her arms still circle him and help him to his feet, his head still following her scent, by convenience that also means his eyes don't have to raise from the floor to meet hers and that makes going back to her room easier.

She helps him to sit at the edge of the bed and that's when her arms retract their support and the loss of warmth feels incredibly wrong. With furrowed brows his eyes look for her to understand what he's done wrong to lose her embrace but they find hers as they seem to be just roaming across his shoulders to the leather atop his shirt. His shoulders move almost of their own volition and the leather is quickly discarded on the floor. She suddenly crouches down on the floor and the movement catches him by surprise, not sure what he should brace himself for until he realises her hands are reaching for his boots.

She might have sensed his discomfort because her next movement is announced by her voice before it happens

“I'm just going to help you out of these so you can lay down and rest if you want, is that alright?”

And he finds himself nodding before the end of that sentence makes it to his ears, the finesse with which her fingers are pulling and undoing his old boots is not something that aligns with a thing that has been broken and torn down too many times to repair and yet the careful way her hands find the way to undo them make it seem like she's dealing with something of invaluable worth.

He's slightly transfixed looking at her movements that only when her eyes meet his again, only then he realises she's done, and with a bit of uncertainty she's back up on her feet.

“Rest here, I will be on the chair and we can talk more tomorrow if you want”

But his hand goes immediately to grab her wrist because the idea of losing that safe feeling her warmth gives him now just isn't something he's ready to do without. He pulls wordlessly until she's sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and that's when he scoots back until his back hits the headboard and then his arm extends towards her in a silent invitation.

He can't read her expression but within seconds he doesn't need to because she's removing her own boots and

*surely she didn't mean to crawl across the bed to reach me in any way other than functional*

but another part of his brain seems to stir now at the sight of her on all fours moving slowly *languidly* towards him, until she's taken the invite and nestles her body between his extended arm and chest, her own arm now circling at the back of his neck.

“Is this…? I can't… nothing needs to happen, we can just rest, I am here for you”

And that sounds way too much like a challenge for his body not to stir, pulling her closer so that his nose can finally trace her hairline down to her ear again. Until the memory of her words make him shiver

+He holds a grace in the tiny bone of his wrists that clerics cannot give on freedays+

And it's both consoling and disappointing that the moment he can lose himself in her scent again, feeling her body so close to his, the words she chose to describe him come back to his mind, blessed with the curse of an impossible detailed memory that in this occasion lets him know, beyond what she could say out loud, all the ways in which her body, but most importantly her mind, have been devotedly dreaming of him, in a way that lets him know for the first time in his whole life and undeath, that someone other than himself cares about his existence, not only his survival.

*Maybe just as long as I can grant her immortality too, but still, she needs me now as I need her*

He nods as his head is nestled between her jaw and her shoulder, certainly agreeing but also to spur another whiff of that delicious scent only her skin, hair, sweat and blood could conjure, and that's when another side of him replies in a low, trembling tone coming from his chest

“I promise I won't go too far… but please…”

And with that plea his lips part slightly, his teeth now brushing against that pulsating spot with a rhythm that's been hypnotising him since the beginning of this game. His lips closing upon it in something it would surely resemble a kiss and at that moment, with a wonderful whimper escaping her lips, her head turns just enough so that she can look at him with the corner of her deep, dark eyes, her lips barely parted with a slightly faster breath coming and going through them and now he's almost overwhelmed because it was easier to focus just on that one little spot that meant finally knowing what bliss it could be to feed his deep seated hunger, and yet now the same wonder takes hold when envisioning her lips giving way to his, how easily they would part to give him access, how soft would her body truly be, pliable to his every need and desire, truly begging to be his and sate any and every hunger of his, because he knows, she said it in so many words, all circling in his mind and

+I will skip, stumble and fall, he’s the blinded fool and I’m content to stand by

I’ll be the conspicuously deranged lover of the air he walks past+

And he has a right at that to concede to the delusion that she might actually be infatuated with him for no other reason than his existence. For a moment he will believe whatever she saw in him was before she could realise anything about his immortality. For a moment he decides to believe her words, committed to paper in that little precious book that was never meant for anyone else's eyes, and that she is head over heels for him just because he's a worthy creature, just like every one of his conquest wanted to believe they were special to him, whilst he hardly remembered their name the morning after.

“it's alright, you can feed”

the words bring him back and carry a rush to his head filled with a million visions of her body, soft, supple and compliant, all the ways his hands and lips could roam those curves that gave him vertigo at the mere thought of, every way he could make her moan and coax pleasure out of her until she could feel as desperate for him and he did her now, every image fights for dominance and

*does it really matter where I start as long as I can explore each and every inch of her that’s covered in skin?*

his lips trembling, tracing closer to her and he’s finally about to taste the gates of her breath when her words hit him again

“but we can’t kiss”

His teeth have to clench because he will not lose his mind over this mere mortal toying with his needs! His eyes tighten to mere slits and his fingers are gripping so tightly to her shirt that surely in a moment the tearing sound will be echoing through the room. She has been playing him all along! She’s just doing this to mortify him and she doesn’t understand what she’s done to him! As his hands release the grip on her clothes he finds his nose trailing back to her neck, now tracing her collarbone with his hungry lips and

*If it’s a challenge you want, a challenge you’ll get love*

He nods so that his soft curls are now certainly tickling her jaw and neck, and he can tell from the way the breath has now escaped her lips that his plan is already working. His fingers roam to find the hem of her shirt and disappear beneath that, finding the stark contrast of the warmth of the skin on her sides, slowly tracing with his tips and nails to her bellybutton. Another sharp breath through her lips and she swallows emptily, and he can feel that just under his lips as they are tracing at her neck still.

“Astarion, did you hear me? You can’t…”

“I’ll do you one better darling, I promise I won’t touch any part of your body, for any reason other than feeding”

*two can play at this game*

He feels her swallowing again against his mouth and now he knows he can gently move his entire body to fit against hers. A leg between hers so that she can surely feel the response of his body, but even with half his chest pressed against hers, his fingers keep roaming her sides, down to her hips and disappearing again under the shirt, halting and changing their course just a moment before they are to brush against the soft underside of her breasts.

He can almost trace the curve and he can tell from her heartbeat that, despite her words, he’s not the only one who's hungry for the other

*but you wanted to play and gods I can make this a torturing little game for you too, my sweet*

An audible gasp escapes her lips now that his lips have locked onto a spot for a moment longer, and she might be expecting his fangs now, yet her body does not stiffen in anticipation for the pain, and that is all the more encouragement for him lo leave a soft, long, obscenely sounding kiss just where her neck meets her shoulder. The sudden jolt that travels her entire body confirming what he already knows

*your body is aching for me*

and so his lips keep leaving a soft and wet trail of kisses everywhere on her skin, coming down her shoulder and arms and back to her collarbone, while his fingers trace her sides still, and in a moment, when her back arches to meet his lips, he swiftly goes to pull her shirt down past her shoulder leaving her left side exposed, her breasts almost visible but her nipple still covered by the strained collar of the shirt.

*I need to taste you, I need to have you*

At that sight his body betrays him, as another unnecessary mouthful of nothing gets swallowed and he feels his cock twitch pressed against her hips, heaving at the rhythm of her breath. Part of him knows he needs to get this over and done quickly or he won't be able to keep his promise, but at the same time he loves to coax out that side of her that spent all that time thinking

*dreaming of me*

The part of her that is now, surely kept prisoner by whatever silly, self imposed rule she decided to lock herself behind.

*let’s see how long for*

When his hand reaches up, under her shirt, his nails start to trace the skin just around her breast and a deep moan erupts from her lips carrying his name in a way he never before loved as much

“Astarion!”

The corner of his lips pull just enough, because no matter what she said, he can feel she wants him in more ways than one, and as his nail dig just a hint too much in that delicate area just on the valley between her breasts, she exhales sharply and now he finds her breath to breathe her in, his face so close to hers that nothing is in focus, the tip of his nose grazing hers and he is now making an effort to keep enough distance between their lips yet she is likely unaware of how her mouth is reaching out to his.

*your rules, my love*

His lips trace back to her cheek and down to her ear to whisper as his nails trace her skin from the centre of her chest to that soft area south of her collarbone but still not close enough to her nipple

“Your blood just reaches out to me and blooms every time my nails press and trace just… like… that”

And the way her body arches at his words brings that soft, supple spot just atop of her breast too close to his lips to refuse now. He finds himself surprised at the idea that the first time he’s tasting her is not to give in to the delicious tempting bit behind her ear, but his mouth is now watering beyond anything he has ever experienced, his lips just sucking at that speckle of skin just south of her collarbone, where he can feel the rhythm of her heart so loudly that the distraction is almost enough to ignore that her nipple is inexorably poking through the shirt, just against his chin

“It won’t hurt but a moment darling”

and then two runaway words follow with

“forgive me”

barely breathed out.

Both words escaped his lips like traitors that were not meant for her ears, but that's quickly out of his mind when finally his fangs can break the thin resistance that the soft skin of her breasts was valiantly putting up.

The warm liquid hitting his tongue sets off an explosion in his mind, makes him realise he has never learnt enough words to describe the absolute perfection that the taste of thinking creatures could bring to his lips, it would take a poet rather than a thief like himself to describe the complexity and richness of the thick liquid that caresses his insides, from his mouth and down his throat where finally the thirst is quenched, and when it fills his stomach every single part of his body feels… relief… every muscle fills with renewed vigour he didn’t know his body could posses, and suddenly he feels his own cheeks, his own fingertips still digging in her softness, getting closer to her warmth, and the flavour is so inebriating that no part of him seems to remember anything that ever happened before her blood traversed his own veins and so feeling his own hips thrust against hers feels just like the most natural consequence of that bliss that's permeating every single part of his body. The softness of her body, even with fabric still separating their legs, makes him aware of the stark contrast with his own, his hip bones as much as his own hardness relishing in the pressure his body needs now, needs to feel as if she could be all around every single part of him. The train of thoughts is becoming so warm and fuzzy while his mouth is still indulging in a mouthful of the ambrosia spilling from her veins when a low whimper from her mouth makes him realise she's gone limp in his arms.

*shit!*

A shred of lucidity comes back to him and he forces himself to end the first moment of true perfection he has experienced in all of his existence. He plants a kiss on the punctures on her breast, gently closing them, and his hand reaches to cup her cheek, her head lulling to the side with slightly parted lips from which her breath comes in faint irregular gasps.

She is magnificent, the most beautiful creature his senses have ever witnessed, her life essence coursing through his veins maybe makes him more compliant to her and only her but suddenly he wishes he could pour every loving word and sign of affection he ever had to master to give it proper significance. Her flavour is more intoxicating than anything her bouquet tried to announce about her. There surely is no life nor undeath to ever be considered if it has to be without the smooth, velvety liquid that traverses her entire being, and now his as well. He should tell her, he wants to and words are about to betray him again when *thankfully* he manages to keep them all in, while only relinquishing a soft

“Thank you”

and his arms go to circle her torso so he can gather her to his chest, one hand caressing obsessively at her soft curls, holding her, wishing for his body to engulf any reaction that still comes from the trembling limbs. He will repeat to himself that this hypnotic hold she has on him is only due to the fact that her blood is new and fresh to his system, unable to recognise they are two distinct beings. He almost jumps when her hand sneaks on him tracing lightly at his jaw, she feels colder than usual and something akin to panic flashes behind his eyes for less than heartbeat, but then her eyelids slowly reveal her dark eyes once again, fixed on his, and a flash of her pink tongue wets her lips before she can gift him again the sound of her voice.

“you should have told me”

And the slight smirk on her face now makes him realise she’s spent but not in any danger. In fact, the rosiness of her cheeks, the breath still laboured despite her lowered heartbeat suggest something entirely different. Suddenly his nostrils are caressed by the soft tanginess of pomegranate that he now knows to be the herald of her arousal. For a moment he searches his own memories of the night he died and lived forever but he knows better than to linger there. A hint of pride takes root in his awareness as the soft, almost imperceptible jolts still travelling the length of her body tell him all he needs to know about what just happened: Pain and pleasure mixed and merged until the latter won over her.

“And ruin the surprise, my darling?”

He will deny in every way that

*really? I did not know...*

That she was truly his first and nothing could have prepared him for the way she felt. Nor the way he did.

Her eyelids seem heavy as her lips pull into a smile at that, her breathing becoming more regular and he can hear her heartbeat pulsating again enough to sing for him.

He realises he has no idea how to care for a human after a vampiric bite.

Along with the warmth her blood brought to his entire being, there's an unexplained feeling though, just at the mouth of his stomach, that he can’t quite name, as if her sweet reaction is just in preparation for a punishment, now that he has officially broken another rule imposed by Cazador.

*Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures*

He finds his face contorted in a grimace just for a split second at that thought, and while the instinct comes to hold her tighter to his chest, something else urges him deeply through a physical need to get as far away from her now sleeping body as possible.

36 notes · View notes

rustboxstarr · 11 months

Text

♥︎ This is 46 ♥︎

Being married and having kids isn't always as amazing as it sounds, making time for each together can prove to be quite fucking difficult but finally you get a chance.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom! plus size reader

CW: Smut, P in V, Creampie, swearing, protected sex (contraseptives but not mentioned) be safe bro, smexy photos, illusions to masturbating at work, distance within relationship. R & Eddie have two daughters, mechanic! Eddie

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: Look who managed to get off their ass and write a fic (Only took fucking forever) hope ya'll like it. If you have any issues using my links the newer works will be under the tag #starrwrites and #starrthinks 🥰 would you like more adult, domestic, married and parents reader & Eddie? tell me :)

Love yas!

Check out my other works!

The morning sun mildly filtered through the curtains, shedding light in the room, it was harmonious, peaceful, calm.. until your husband's alarm rang out on the loudest volume signaling 7 am. You groaned as you awkwardly woke from your medicated sleep. Hair in a mess, residue of makeup from the day before and a drooping boob on full show from constantly turning in the middle of the night in your slip dress nightgown. You rubbed your eyes angrily and sloppily as you noticed the alarm was still ringing. Turning your head to the side you saw Eddie fast asleep, completely undisturbed. You lay a palm on his shoulder, nudging his body in an attempt to wake him. Unsuccessful. You nudged him harder this time. “Eddie” you spoke, trying to wake him.

Eddie stirred in his sleep as his eyes slowly opened. “Hmm?” he hummed in question, he let out a loud groan as he turned and switched his alarm off. He rolled back around to face you as you were adjusting your nightgown. Eddie grinned “Sexy” he commented with a pump of his eyebrows. “Shut up” you joked as you once again rolled your eyes and took a sip of water from the glass on your bedside table. “C’mere” Eddie held his hand out signaling for you to snuggle up to him. You lay back down, adjusting yourself on your side as Eddie wrapped his arms around you, snuggling his head into the crook of your neck. “Good morning” you greeted with a yawn, “Missed you last night” he hummed. “Yeah sorry, late night but atleast I get to go in at ten today” you said groggily.

“Oh so you have some time then?” he smirked into your cheek. “Yeah.. why?” you asked, slightly suggestive, knowing where he was heading. In response, Eddie forced his hips along the mattress pressing up against you to make you aware of his stiff morning wood. “Oh well good morning to you too” you giggled. “Corny, really corny Y/L/N” he chuckled. “Hey, it's Munson remember” you grinned.

“Well Mrs Munson, how would you feel about getting dicked down by Mr Munson before he heads off to work?” Eddie forced his hips against your ass again. “Corny, really corny Munson” you quoted back to him. A hand slunk back from its soft hold on Eddie's arm to pull at the hem of his boxers, signaling for him to take them off.

“Exited are we?” he joked. “Hey you're the one with the hard on” you smirked as you could feel your husband rustling around behind you and then his bare cock pressing hard against the cheeks of your ass. Eddie's hand traveled down from your hips to hover by your mound. “Ooh no undies I see, naughty girl” he growled in your ear, earning a giggle from you. “Gross, don’t call me that this isnt some trashy porno you hide in your browser history” his head popped up beside you, as you craned your neck you saw his confused expression, eyebrows pulled together. “How do you know about those?”

“Well first of all I’m not an idiot, second” you whispered in a raspy dramatic voice “I know everything”

His hand slank to your thigh, tapping it for you to spread your legs, he then found his cock, leading it to your cunt, now on display from your parted legs. He forced his cock past your folds and straight to the goal, having no problem thanks to the slick that had gathered during the night. Your mouth may be dry from the propavan but your cunt surely wasn't. He groaned in your ear as he felt a powerful relief. Once he bottomed out his hand circled round your thigh and found your clit. As you let out a gasp from the sensation your leg dropped back down to a more comfortable position.

“Fuck” Eddie breathed as he began slowly forcing his hips back and forth in a sensual pace. Matching his slow circles pressing into your clit. Your arm which previously waited patiently for Eddie wrapped around his neck and shoulders to slither into his bedhead of curls behind you. Eddie hummed at the sensation as he closed his eyes, focusing on forcing his hips back and forth. “God I missed this” you sighed as your own mess of hair rested against Eddie's forehead. “Me too” Eddie groaned as he quickened his pace. A slight moan escaped your lips as you arched your back, forcing your hips closer to his.

“MOM!” a shout from downstairs made you jump in surprise. Eddie groaned in frustration. “MOM! Roxy ate the last poptart!” you could tell Ophelia, your eldest, was getting frustrated with her younger sister Roxette, she had a habit of screeching when her emotions were in overdrive and you were not about to handle a panic attack over poptarts at 7 in the morning.

Eddie's hips stilled at the interruption, you groaned as you heard the 13 and 16 year old start to bicker in the kitchen. A shout of “MOM she's pulling my hair!!” from Ophelia had you groaning in annoyance and hurriedly get away from Eddie behind you. Stumbling as you got to the floor and pulled your nightgown up to hide your boobs. “I'm coming!” you shouted as you hurried out of the room to break up the fight.

Eddie groaned in his spot on the bed and rolled over on his back. He adjusted himself to sit back in his boxers as he threw his head back against the pillows with a “FUCK!”

It had been a while since the two of you had been intimate, with two teenage kids who had their own issues and two full time jobs, finding time for each other was difficult, you had to treasure every moment you could spare.

–

Your next opportunity to be close to Eddie came a few days later:

“Alright, better get up, I need a shower” you explained as you groggily lifted the bedsheets and padded across the floor to the bathroom. “Hey, maybe I can join you?” Eddie asked slightly hopeful, he had ten minutes before he had to rush and leave for work, you were dropping the kids off today but not for another 40 minutes.

“Ooh” you hummed as you turned the doorknob. “That sounds nice” you smiled as you walked through the door. Once you made it past the threshold Eddie hurled himself out of the bed, stumbling over his work clothes on the floor and almost falling over. Stumbling into the bathroom he groaned as he saw your naked form in the bathroom littered with plants.

“Fuck, you are so sexy” he hummed as he slid in behind you, pushing his hard cock against your ass, already awake with the excitement of a quickie in the shower. You hummed, pleased as you craned your neck to the side to let Eddie kiss at the soft skin.

“Ok, come on I only have-” He checked the time on his watch “- 9 minutes before I have to leave” you giggled as he slapped your ass, gesturing you into the shower. You hurried in kicking your nightie along with your panties out of the direct firing range of splashing water, stepping into the shower and being quick to skip backwards away from the cold rush of water. You felt Eddie’s warm hands wrap around your waist as he walked you to the water.

“Ok hurry big guy, you need to go soon” you reminded him. “Yes boss” he placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing on it slightly, guiding you to bend over and place your hands on the wall. “Get ready for the best fuck you’ve had in a while” Eddie joked, earning an eyeroll and a chuckle from you as you felt his tip push against your fold. “Fuuuuck” Eddie groaned as he slid in your wet cunt. A loud groan slipped from his lips as he bottomed out, “Eddie, shh the kids are downstairs”. He began thrusting slowly, hands gripping onto the fat of your hips as his head relaxed on his shoulders and rolled back. You hummed in pleasure at the slow pace as you loosened your body, letting go of a tense buildup in your muscles.

“Wish we could do this more often” Eddie groaned as he began thrusting faster. You closed your eyes in pleasure at the feeling of him finally being inside you, sweet relief. With each thrust Eddie picked up the pace, rushing to find mostly his own release but also yours before the clock rang time to go loser. In a deep focus he hunched back over your frame, watching as you bobbed back and forth against the wall with the force of his hips.

“Shit, 6 minutes” he complained as he began drilling faster. “Fuck fuck fuck I’m-” he began in a loud whisper, he jumped out of fright when he heard a knock at the door, he turned his head expectantly. “Dad! Your phones ringing!” Roxette shouted through the door. Eddie sighed annoyed as his head fell back on his shoulder, this time not out of pleasure.

“I’m coming!” he pulled out of you as you straightened up and turned to face him. “I’m so sorry” he whispered as his hands found their rightful place on your hips. “It's ok” you whispered as your ringed hand caressed the side of his face, stubble coming in despite his shaving two days prior. Just as he was about to kiss you “Dad!”

“I’m coming! I'm coming!” he shouted again, this time more annoyance laced his voice. A quick peck on the lips before he rushed out to wrap a towel around his waist. “Ah I’d love to hear that sentence under different circumstances” you teased as you returned back to your shower. Eddie grimaced annoyed and sheepish, because he too would like to be saying that sentence under different circumstances.

You didn't bother getting out to lock the door when Eddie left but you heard Roxy on the other side of the door “Did you just shower with mom?” you could hear the grossed out expression in her face as she spoke. “No, shut up” Eddie said at the confrontation, you grinned to yourself. “Heyyy Zander! What can I do for you?” His voice faded as he spoke to his coworker and hurriedly dressed himself with the phone on speaker.

–

Days passed and you had hardly seen Eddie, both on different work schedules and you on the line for a promotion had been staying late at the office. Yet somehow the two of you had managed to drop the kids off and pick them up from school and have at least one parent cook and eat dinner with them. By the time you came home at night everybody would be tucked into their beds, well almost everyone, 11 pm Roxy was asleep when you checked on her but Ophelia was still wide awake scrolling her phone in bed.

“Hi love” you smiled as you creeped into her room. Sleep Token playing on her google nest in a low volume while she read, she had told you she was reading independent amateur writing about fictional characters on some app you couldn't remember but you knew that scene slightly, pretty sure she wasn't reading wholesome stories about Hogwarts and Harry Potter.

“Hi” she answered back as she sat up, putting her phone down.

You talked to Ophi for a few minutes before heading to the bathroom with a “Goodnight, go to sleep soon” As you entered your bedroom you found that Eddie was in fact fast asleep, each time you came home the past week to find everyone asleep your heart broke a little at the fact that you couldn't be around them much, but soon that would be over and you would all be more comfortable with the flood of income. A promise of a trip somewhere had helped soothe Roxy when she wondered why you were never around much.

Quietly you got changed and headed for the bathroom and got ready for bed. You slipped under the covers and relaxed on your side, back facing Eddie ready to sleep the day away and then suddenly a glimmer of hope. Eddie stirred in his sleep and rolled over to face your body. He groaned as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, but within a second he was fast asleep again.

–

By now enough was enough, you missed Eddie and he missed you. You couldn't be intimate other than kissing a little and hugging a little too long when no eyes were watching but you could at least have a little fun with him.

Princess Y/N 💕: Don't open the picture around people

It was 1.30 in the afternoon and you'd finally gotten a second of peace to yourself, so you decided to spend it in the bathroom.

Princess Y/N 💕: *Image*

A photo of you in your employee bathroom at work, multiple blouse buttons discarded as you stood against the mirror with your phone up, taking a picture of the reflection of you leaning forward, tits covered by a deep blood red bra, his favorite, prominent cleavage from your large figure which had blessed you with a large set of tits which Eddie adored. One hand cupping your breast, the other on your phone, half your face in the picture.

As you button up your blouse again your phone dinged;

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: Holy fucking shit

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: You have time for a quick call???? im in the bathroom at work

Princess Y/N 💕: Sorry baby, i have a meeting in 5 and i have to get ready

Princess Y/N 💕: But enjoy the photo, love you, see you tonight

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: 😭😭😭

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: Love you too, so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Princess Y/N 💕: I’ll be home at 7 btw (yay), Ophi’s out but Roxy's home, we’ll have a nice dinner

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: 🍕🍔➡️🍆💦💦💦

Princess Y/N 💕: Ur 46 u shouldnt be using those emojis

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: U sayin im old???????

Princess Y/N 💕: Yup, byeee

Finally the clock struck 7 pm and you were home free. Eddie was already stood in the kitchen cooking dinner. “Ooh smells nice” you hummed as you entered the kitchen “Yup, mushroom risotto” he grinned and you, leaning down for a kiss, just as your lips met you backed off “Babe, Roxy doesn't like mushrooms” you told him with a sigh.

“I know” he grinned again, a devious little display on his lips, only earning a frown from you “Is she not here?” you asked confused as you gave him a quick peck on the lips before bending down to slip your heels off “Nope, shipped her off to switzerland” you cocked your head with an unamused look on your face. Eddie chuckled “She is actually staying the night at Missys, told her she could since it's friday” he couldn't help the excitement on his face. “Wait so we're alone? Till the other one comes home?” your eyes went wide at the fact that you finally had the house all to yourselves, with both of you in it!

“Nope”

You frowned “Were alone aaaaaaall night. Little miss teenage rebel is staying with her boyfriend tonight” you backed off once again slightly “Ooh don't like that” you told him as you placed your hands behind your back stretching. “Yeah me neither, but I told her the rules, and even if she breaks them, which, she will, it won't be anything worse than what we did at her age. And if her staying the night at Matt’s is what gets her out of the house so we can have some time for ourselves is what it takes then so be it.”

“I love you” you smiled as you gave him a deep kiss “I'm just going to change into something more comfortable, I’ll be right back” you told him as you scurried off up the stairs.

First time finally getting to be with your husband undisturbed in two months, this was a big deal. You estimated Eddie would be done in about a half hour which gave you plenty of time. You hopped into the shower first, tying your hair up so it wasn't wet when you went back down for dinner you began. You showered your whole body and scrubbed it clean with various heavily scented soaps. It was too short notice to shave your mound and expect it not to be red and irritated but you could at least trim it, you felt awkward using your hair scissors down there but at least when Eddie was around to see you you wouldn't be sporting a hairy jungle. You shaved your legs, your arms and even the small hairs gathering on your big toe, that felt extremely weird but you were excited and wanted to look and feel your best when you finally had sex with Eddie. Once you got out you smothered your body in lotion, strawberry scented just to ensure that your legs and arms were as smooth as possible.

When you finally set foot at the top of the stairs you were clean, shaven, fresh wearing a matching black and dark purple set of sexy underwear from the really expensive part of Twilfit concealed under a pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt. The second you stepped into the kitchen Eddie's arms were wrapped around you, a kiss landed on your forehead “mm you smell nice, did you shower?” “Yeah just quickly, wash the day off” you reasoned, getting a hum in response. “Well sit down, because you are getting the princess treatment tonight” he grinned as he guided you to the table. “I prefer queen thank you very much” you flicked your hair goofily earning a chuckle from Eddie. “Whatever you say baby”

Dinner was heavenly, Eddie had outdone himself, and had clearly cooked to impress. By the time the last spoonful was gone you felt happy and content, sipping the last of your red wine in the crystal glass, a wedding present, part of a set of six. Just as Eddie was about to rise from his comfortable position across from you you halted him “I’ll clean up” you smiled. All Eddie could do was watch as you began loading the bottom rack of the dishwasher, sinking back into the dining chair and spreading his legs while you bent down.

In Eddie's mind it was obvious you were finally going to have sex, just as soon as you loaded the dishwasher, it didn't cross his mind that foreplay was probably something that would be appreciated by you or any kind of affection beforehand so he just went for it. When you finished loading the dishwasher you straightened up to clean up the mess that was left from cooking, that's when Eddie decided to saunter over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nestling his cheek against your hair. “What do you say we move this to the bedroom?” you felt him force his hips against your ass, revealing his hard on that had worked up from watching you clean up. He grinned as you turned your head to peer up at him. “Oh I thought we could cuddle up and watch a movie on the couch, I'm kind of tired” you lied, nothing in your facial expression hinted towards you joking and Eddie's face fell. “Really?” he asked incredulously “What?” you turned in his arms to face him, his body cradling you against the kitchen counter. “We haven't had sex in like two months, we finally get the house to ourselves and you want to cuddle?” he raised his eyebrows, miffed but also slightly annoyed. “Is that all you think about? Sex?” you huffed at him, still playing your face neutral.

“Well no” he averted his gaze from you as he delivered those words, in reality all he had thought about since he realized both girls were out for the night was finally getting you to himself, in bed, with no interruptions. His eyes met yours again “But we haven't, you know been with each other for like ages, and you sent me that photo today!” he realized as an argument. “So? Sexy photos doesnt mean you can just fuck me whenever you want” you couldn’t help the slight tug of your lips, cursing yourself for it. Eddie noticed it right away, wheels spinning in is head till he came to the conclusion that you were fucking with him. “Oh really?” he grinned. “Nope, takes two to tango” you grinned at the lame wording. “Oh so I can't just bend you over right here and have my way with you?” his hands retracted from their laced position behind your back to slither to your hips and grab a firm handful of the fat covering them. “Nope” you repeated. “Wanna bet?” “I hardly think you have the balls to actually do that, seeing as you're an old man and were not 20 anymore” you smiled.

He smirked mischievously at you and was quick to indeed flip you around against the counter, force your hips against the edge and push your shoulders down to the cold marble. “I may be old as you call it” he slipped his hands under your shirt to find the hem of the black leggins and slip his fingers under the fabric, drawing his hands to your sides “But I would like to think I haven’t lost my spark yet” he ripped the fabric down your thighs harshly. Backing off slightly to allow him access to draw a finger against the purple fabric concealing your pussy. His touch was feather light as we guided his pointer finger along the slit of your chubby skin. You hummed at the feeling and retorted “I don't” adjusting yourself to support yourself on your forearms and arch your back slightly. At that he went through the same procedure with your underwear as he did your legging, he ripped them down to find your core.

Knowing what was to come you spread your legs as wide as the fabric gathered around your mid thigh would allow you, revealing your cunt to him finally. A low groan from the back of his throat echoed through the walls of the kitchen. He once again brought his pointer finger up to you to slip it in only one knuckle deep. “Talk a lot to be so wet” he pushed his finger in further “How do you know its not discharge?” you grinned “Discharge doesn't stain your underwear baby” another knuckle, his finger now fully drawn in by your wet walls. His harsh demeanor of wording dropped as he breathed a simply “I've missed this”

Your heart squeezed “Me too” you whispered. “Good” the harsh exterior was up again and on guard. You heard Eddie unbuckle his belt and zip the fly down. As much as you wanted to have slow passionate sex and reconnect to each other's touch starved bodies, doing it this way was best for the both of you. There was a requirement for an outlet, and if riling Eddie up was the way to it, you would happily oblige, loving sex would come later but for now rough and loaded sex was perfect.

His hand wrapped around the base of his cock as he took a step closer to you, your round figure covering what he desired he went in blind, eyes fixed on the slope of your hips he grasped onto your left and nudged himself blindly against you. He found what he was looking for quickly and pushed himself inside. His tip rested around hot flesh as his head lolled back on his shoulders, “Fuuuuck” he groaned as he forced his hips slowly to be flush against the fat of your ass, you let out a low deep moan at the action and expected him to start thrusting almost instantly, when he didn't you opened your mouth and was about to tell him move goddammit when he finally forced himself to retract his hips only to slam them back against you. He did it so quickly and with such force that you couldn't help the loud almost pornographic moan that ripped itself from your chest.

He let out a loud groan and within seconds was at a relatively fast pace drawing his hips from you and thrusting them back in. Both his hands grasped hard at your hips, pushing and pulling you against him, making you rock back and forth against the countertop. He held onto you so hard it was almost painful but you couldn't focus on that when the head of his cock began hitting you at the sweet spot that if he hit too hard or too long would eventually leave you crying and not from pleasure. It wasn't often Eddie could hit that spot, not when you were lying down, only with your back to him or sat on top of him and everytime it was a gamble, being on top of him would most definitely make it painful but when he was thrusting into you from behind you could properly feel that distinguished pleasure.

Loud moans and groans were heard from the picture perfect cute little kitchen in an equally cute and little house, a great contrast from what was actually going on. Eddie was cursing as he worked his body as hard as he could while you breathed and moaned strings of fucking christ, feels so good fuck, and yeah right there, fuck right there.

“Shit baby, I-I wont last long” Eddie heaved from behind you, willing himself to hold back but he couldnt when he hadnt touched you or fucked you like this for ages, it was all too much. “It's ok-” you broke off with a moan as Eddie hit one very harsh and angry thrust. With only Eddies cock you wouldn’t cum anyway, you needed some other form of stimulation or at least for a longer time in order to reach your high, and even then it was only a mild wave that you barely even noticed that came. Eddie knew this, and always made sure to make you cum in one way or another, on occasions he could hold out till that small wave hit but this time he was just sorry that he couldn't make it last even a little longer for it to actually be enjoyable for you.

As Eddie began thrusting faster, the previous pleasure of just being in the moment, having sex with Eddie turned to something else. You felt it, that tingle in your core, as if something other than your walls was squeezing at your pussy. You could only assume it was because of Eddie's rough pace and the fact that you hadn't had this pleasure in forever. “Shit” you breathed in suprise “Fuck, fuck, Eddie I’m gonna cum” you moaned . “Shit really?” he breathed “Yes, Yes! just- just keep going!” that second yes was nowhere near an answer to Eddie but a loud praise at the fact that you were about to cum and only within about a minute of Eddie slipping inside you. “Fuck, fuck ok” Eddie shut his eyes tightly, willing his body to hold out just a little while longer.

That tingle gained power within seconds, spreading from your core to your hips, stomach and thigh which were forcing themselves to close. “Fuck” you let out an extremely loud moan which would no doubt be heard my Ms.Driscol had she been out in her garden at that moment. “Fuck Eddie I’m coming. Ahh I’m coming!” you practically screamed. Another scream and that tingle exploded within you, shards flowing throughout your body as if to say I'm done now, you can relax. The effects of the explosion lasted for a few seconds before the message had been received and your limbs gave up on you. As you breathed heavily Eddie released a mix of happy excited laughs at his accomplishment and groans of pleasure. He let out a particularly loud one when you felt his hips force as close to you as space would allow and his back arch in a strain as heavy loads of cum spilled within your walls.

Finally you collapsed, had your upper body not been splayed on the counter you would have crumpled to the floor. Eddie breathed heavily as he bent over laying his head on your shoulder blade.

After what felt like a long time Eddie huffed a laugh “fuck, that was good”, you chuckled “you think so? I felt it was mediocre at best” “Oh shut up” his weak hand squeezed once again at your hip making you giggle again. “Now can we watch a movie and cuddle?” you smiled. “Sorry baby I wish but I have plans on counting orgasms tonight”

“That, was a horrible joke”

#80s #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson has adhd #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #Eddie Munson headcons #Eddie Munson plus size reader #Eddie Munson x plus size reader #Eddie Munson x reader #modern Eddie #modern Eddie Munson #modern Eddie Munson headcons #modern Eddie headcons #headcanon #headcon #StarrWrites #StarrThinks

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onehundredandeleventropicalfish · 1 year

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getting emotional about the last issue of sandman again (cw for major comic spoilers, discussion of suicidal thoughts)

because like. so we learn pretty early on what dream's deal with shakespeare was, allowing him better access to his creative potential in return for two plays, and we know this because we get midsummer night's dream, which was commissioned by dream for the actual titania as a parting gift before the faeries left earth forever

but we don't learn the second play until right at the end, after dream is dead, after the funeral, after sunday mourning and exiles, both of which make really beautiful endings to the story in their own right

the second play is the tempest. and there's a lot of the play that neil gaiman quotes in this issue, but i'll focus on the specific two that shakespeare reads aloud

the first is our obvious one - prospero's address at his daughter's wedding.

Be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air. And like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve, and like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

it's a beautiful passage, and exactly what to put at the end of this story - prospero is reminding everyone that stories are just stories, they aren't real and can't hurt anyone, but also they are the one thing that lives forever. humans are shaped and formed by our dreams, by our stories, we come from them, and in the end, we return to them.

now, prospero is the character we focus on in this issue. because there's a three-way parallel here between dream and prospero and shakespeare himself.

dream and shakespeare have both lost their sons, were both irreparably changed by that. both regret decisions they've made in their lives, and wish to leave the path they've found for themselves, but don't feel they can - their responsibilities are too great, they have no choice but to be what they were born to be. both wonder what might have happened in a world where things were different, but they know that could never have been

and prospero is the balm to that. prospero has made mistakes in his life, he's in several ways the antagonist of this story, but at the end, he gets to put it all aside. his daughter lives, and is happy. he gives up his magic - the source of his power, but also his suffering - and abandons his role, leaves the island he'd been ruling for decades. and this is his happy ending.

when shakespeare asks dream why this play, why he wanted that ending, instead of some great tragedy or drama, something more fit for a king, dream responds "because i will never leave my island."

and we see throughout the issue that that was personal to shakespeare too, it was a wish fullfilment for both of them.

but then we get to the epilogue, the second quote i'm focusing on. because shakespeare doesn't know how to end the play, until he has that conversation with dream.

this is the tempest's epilogue, in full:

Now my charms are all o'erthrown/And what strength I have’s mine own/Which is most faint. Now, ’tis true/I must be here confined by you/Or sent to Naples. Let me not/Since I have my dukedom got/And pardoned the deceiver, dwell/In this bare island by your spell/But release me from my bands/With the help of your good hands.

Gentle breath of yours my sails/Must fill, or else my project fails/Which was to please. Now I want/Spirits to enforce, art to enchant/And my ending is despair/Unless I be relieved by prayer/Which pierces so that it assaults/Mercy itself and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardoned be/Let your indulgence set me free.

like most shakespeare epilogues, it's a direct address to the audience, talking about the play. prospero is asking forgiveness from the audience for all he did wrong, but then reminding them that he's only human, don't we all want to be forgiven? and after all, all of this was just a story. he only wanted to create something for you. so applaud the ending, tell him it was worth it, and only with your permission can he finish the story, and finally leave.

and that's the thing, about dream's particular brand of suicidal thoughts. being dream of the endless has been weighing on him for centuries, if not millenia, he longs for an escape, but he knows he can't. when they see it's breaking him his siblings try and convince him to leave, like destruction did, but it's not in him to abandon the dreaming like that.

and that amount of responsibility, of staying alive because you owe it to other people - it's a relief, then, when a battle comes along that's too great for you to face, but there's also a lot of guilt in it. because he gave up. and he knows he did. letting the kindly ones win was the most selfish decision he's ever made

and you might say, well, he's dead, he doesn't have to face it, but that's not wholly true. because all three of the last issues deal with some version of dream after death.

there's the dream of him hob has in sunday mourning, which isn't the true dream, he's dead, except of course it is dream, because he was only ever made of dreams anyway, so does it really matter whether it's real or not?

in exiles the protagonist talks to both morpheus and daniel in the desert, and for dream this was two very different time periods, but to the man crossing the desert, they happened simultaneously, so if time can be warped like that in dreams, who's to say that the ripples of morpheus won't continue long into the future?

and then we have the tempest. dream has appeared after death as a dream, as a mirage, and finally, in perhaps his truest form, as a story.

when dream said he will never leave his island, shakespeare reminds him that all men can change. and this is the fatal flaw of dream - he doesn't see himself as a man, as a person, as anything but the entity which must fulfill his function. he tells shakespeare that men have stories, men change - he does not

and when we end this entire 75 issue run with the epilogue from the tempest, dream is prospero. even after death he's still reckoning with the guilt of making that decision. even now, he won't allow himself that freedom.

and that's the reminder, that all of this was just a story - dream's story. the reader is a character in sandman, all of this was created for us. did he manage to create something beautiful enough, despite the pain? can he be forgiven for the decisions he made along the way? if eventually he gave up, does that make all the time he fought so hard for meaningless?

and he can't be free of the story until we answer that all important question - was it worth it?

to which the answer can only be of course it was.

#you did good kiddo. take your rest. it's okay #interestingly enough the tempest isn't the only play that refers to the afterlife as a dream #hamlet does too (which you know is the piece inspired by shakespeare's dead son)#but that's just me and my shakespeare nerd #i've won literal monetary awards for my writing on shakespeare but here i am rereading sandman and crying #so you all get to cry too #neil gaiman you madman give me your writing talents #the sandman #sandman comic spoilers #dream of the endless #....it feels weird to tag shakespeare in this #wake #mine #meta #suicide tw

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misscammiedawn · 4 days

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Ange Ushiromiya's Recontextualized Memory and Unprocessed Trauma in Umineko No Naku Kori Ni

CW: Full spoilers for Umineko, a mystery visual novel game which is best enjoyed without knowing spoilers in advance. The game and thus this essay will feature discussion of child abuse and suicide.

For those unfamiliar with my blog I have a tag called Media, Myself and I where I talk about positive/accurate representation of dissociative disorders in media.

Today I want to talk about Umineko No Naku Kori Ni the third and fourth titles in 07th Expansion's "When They Cry" franchise. The game is a multi-layered fiction that starts off as an Agatha Christie inspired closed circle murder mystery taking place during the weekend of October 4th 1986. The murder mystery displayed has no more than 18 humans stranded on an island in the middle of a storm and the audience is invited to try to work out the mystery of what happened.

As the story progresses the audience are presented with a number of different possibilities, each an in-universe attempt to rationalize the tragedy that took place and killed all but two members of the Ushiromiya family.

It is eventually revealed that to the eyes of the world, no more than 18 humans were on the island that weekend and only one returned to their life afterwards. Some in the world have been quite focused on working out what happened during that weekend.

It's a complicated narrative that has multiple layers and each layer communicates not only with the audience reading the game but an audience of people in-universe trying to solve the mystery as well. When we first experienced the game we had joked that it was sold to us as Anime Homestuck but it ended up being Anime House of Leaves.

The easiest way to describe the narrative structure is that the first 7 episodes of the game, each containing about 20 hours of narrative, have within them a fictionalized version of events written in-universe by people who may or may not have been present at the event with episode 8 is mostly its own thing. To explain in further detail would distract. The point is Umineko is a complicated narrative and there is too much to cover a play-by-play.

The narrative is intentionally convoluted and contradictory with part of the fun of playing the game being to work out what events are true and what the rules are for discerning "magic" from "truth".

Even with a concept as seemingly opaque as Truth, there is the often quoted "Without love it cannot be seen" motif, that our emotional connection to events will always color how we interpret events.

The story is remarkably long. How Long To Beat puts each half of the game up at about 60 hours. So that's 120 hours of pure reading with very little gameplay.

There are multiple plural characters ("Oh, I am one yet many", indeed) and we shall discuss them in due course, but for clarity I wish to focus my discussion today upon the relationship between a survivor and their histories. The novel has much to say on the topic.

The above image discussing the nature of truth is from Episode 4, the chapter where the protagonist is Ange Ushiromiya. Younger sister of the protagonist of the first Episodes, Battler Ushiromiya.

Ange, 6 years old at the time, was sick on the weekend of October 4th 1986 and was not present on the island for the massacre. One weekend she had a full and lively family and then in the span of a single week everyone she had a connection to was killed in unknowable circumstances, she was whisked away to live with her aunt, the sole survivor of the tragedy, and would live the life of a cursed child, forever haunted by the tragedy that stole away her life.

Ange's story takes place in "The World of 1998" where she seeks The Truth. She states multiple times how she is incapable of going on with her life until she knows The Truth.

The events of 1986 are presented via "forgeries", published stories which tell the story of the 1986 tragedy utilizing facts that are known about the family. Ange pours through them, attempting to uncover the truth. She suspects her aunt may be responsible. Why wouldn't she harbor suspicions? Aunt Eva was the only one of the no more than 18 humans to leave the island and became the sole inheritor of the Ushiromiya family fortune.

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is formed when an individual endures long-lasting and repeated bouts of ongoing trauma, typically in childhood. Survivors often find themselves caught in an inescapable cycle of grieving that lasts months and years beyond the loss and remains fresh and raw in spite of the time and changes that have occurred since the event. The individual is tethered to the past by an inability to move on from their loss. In psychology this is referred to as Complicated Grief and though it is most commonly discussed with death, it can present itself for grieving lost time, stolen youth and lives unlived.

Ange is riddled with Complicated Grief. Her story takes place 12 years after the events on the island of Rokkenjima and yet she constantly tells those around her that she is unable to live without knowing the truth. Ange's unprocessed grief is unearthed when her aunt, the only survivor of the massacre, passes away while maliciously refusing to give Ange any insight into the truth that she alone knew, twisting the knife as she turned over the family fortune to a child that was not her own beloved George.

Ange's sole reason for existing is to make peace with the tragedy of her past and Eva's final act was to tell her she would never have it and would instead live a cursed life of a victim in the public's eye. Eternally scrutinized and criticized.

Ange, now knowing that the only chance she had to be given the truth and still feeling that she needs it in order to live her life, runs away and starts a journey to either make peace with her tortured past or end her own life.

Ange's suicidal tendencies are played up dramatically and much of the final episode is the conflict between Ange's inability to live with her grief being played out in hyperbolic fiction. The stakes of the story amounting to "will she be able to live after learning The Truth."

But what is Truth? Would learning who is responsible for her family's death truly give her peace or would it only serve to trap her further in her endless cycle of grief?

Trauma therapy tends not to focus on Talk Therapy for the most part as such therapy indulges a survivor to dwell on their unprocessed traumas and will only serve to retraumatize the client. In many cases it is detrimental to perform Motivational Interviewing (reflective statements designed to display to a client that the clinician is listening and interpreting their words without offering direct guidance or intervention) or Rogerian "person centered" (a similar tactic designed to keep a client talking without engaging in a back-and-forth, every reply should be a prompt that inspires the client to continue sharing without boundaries and reach their own conclusions) techniques.

The reason why is that these forms of therapy have a belief that "the client holds all of the answers" and the clinician's job is to let the client get out of their own way and walk towards the answer. It is a solutions based therapy where the client is trusted to clear cognitive distortions and navigate around mental blocks between themselves and what they need.

Ange's stated goals are far from healthy.

In survivors their Core Beliefs are informed by their trauma. Those who were raised in a house of neglect may have an unresolved core belief that they are unworthy of love, those who feel shame and guilt for what happened/how they were treated may have a belief that "I should have..." - A helpful list of common negative core beliefs and positive beliefs that can be instilled, click here.

Trauma therapy contains an element of identifying these beliefs and where they originated and working to overcome them. There are many different therapies in the world that attempt to do this but they all include some element of processing trauma, accepting trauma and committing to the future.

In Ange's case she does not need to know what happened in order to live. She has to accept what happened and live.

To make this clear, should Ange learn what is presented to be The Truth it will break her and she will be unable to accept it and in doing so ends up unable to live.

All of this is a prologue to talk about acceptance and our emotional connection to memory.

Prior to Eva's death, Ange was raised in a boarding school where she was ruthlessly bullied by the other students. Both Ange and her aunt are in the public eye for the scandal associated with the Rokkenjima massacre and Eva actively despises Ange and refuses to give her the care, nurture and privilege that the other students of the rich academy enjoy.

She lives a lonely and cursed life. Her one solace is getting to find time alone to sit and read her cousin Maria's "Grimoire", her journal. When she reads the journal she can clearly picture her cousin in her mind and interact with her. A form of "magic" that Maria taught Ange back when the two of them were friends, prior to the massacre in which Maria lost her life. In the past Maria had created a magical society called Mariage Sorciere and Ange was one of the members before being excommunicated.

We'll discuss it further in a while however while introducing Maria I wish to note that she was most likely forming a dissociative disorder prior to the massacre. The series writer Ryukishi07 was a social worker prior to his career in visual novels. He does a remarkably good job of displaying how abusive and neglectful family dynamics can impact a young mind. Maria, despite being 9 years old, has speech patterns linked to an infant's maturity, she often switches into a "witch" persona and she will hold up her stuffed animals and voice out their speech, treating them like separate individuals. She is bullied at school and her mother hits her when she does this but she is incapable of acting any other way. It's who she is.

A small portion of the second chapter even having some of the cousins stop to discuss the possibility that her overactive imagination and play-acting may contain elements of dissociative identity disorder. It's never fully confirmed and she dies at age 9, but Ryukishi07 displays a convincing depiction of extreme childhood neglect that would lead to a severe dissociative disorder had she have grown up.

We learn throughout the story that her journal contains sketches of many magical entities impressed upon the servants of the island and toys that Maria has. These entities becoming the magical cast of the "Gameboard".

Though not the focus of this particular essay, each episode of the game is depicted as a chess match between a game master (representing the author of a murder mystery) and an opponent (representing the reader trying to solve the mystery) and these matches take place in a world of purgatory. This world is populated by a magical cast of characters each of whom is paired with a member of the mundane cast on the island.

The game often repeats that it takes "two to create a universe". There needs to be one to imagine it and one to perceive it and mark it as real. This is displayed on the gameboard but it is also displayed with the way that for every imagined character who exists as part of the magical cast, there is the one who imagines and then there is one who their imagination is displayed onto.

Maria is a child of extreme neglect, as we will discuss soon, she had no one to displace her imagination upon (spare for her mother who she imagined as being possessed by an evil witch when she became violently abusive) and so she imbued life into her toys. Bringing Sakutarou, her stuffed lion doll, and her band of toy rabbits to life. This earned her the title "Witch of origins".

The magic in the game's universe operates on a rule that "it takes two to create a universe" logic. The concepts of Magic and Love being intertwined. "Without love it cannot be seen" has many meanings but in terms of creation it means that anyone can apply "the anti-magic toxin" of mistrust/disbelief by simply rejecting another person's reality.

So much of the magic and love in this world is built on trust and being able to believe in that which is shared. The concept is explored from many angles throughout the game, Episode 6 focusing on love in the form of trust between a writer and a reader and the contract between them requiring a murder mystery to be solvable and for a reader to earnestly engage with the fiction and accept it as it is written.

Within Mariage Sorciere, this love is to accept that the characters and imaginings of its members. To be a member is to accept all as it is presented. Sakutarou is a magical lion boy who speaks. To doubt this is to be excommunicated from the order, which is why Ange was kicked out of the witches alliance. To say Sakutarou wasn't real was tantamount to trying to kill him.

Maria's love is without doubt. In Episode 7 we learn that she is not capable of viewing people as anything more than how they present to the world. Her imagination paints how she perceives the world. When her mother's behavior drastically shifts when she enters a violent and abusive rage she firmly believes that her mother has been possessed by a cruel witch.

When a familiar adult approaches her speaking as the Golden Witch Beatrice, she does not see the adult. She only sees Beato. This is vital to her testimony throughout the game regarding the murder mysteries.

One last thing I wish to go over during this analysis of Ange and Maria and their relationship to their traumatic childhoods. That is the title of witch.

By now I hope it's been made clear that magic is imagination and love is trust. Whether it be testimony being believed, the contract between author and reader or the inner reality of one being seen and regarded and acknowledged by another.

As someone with DID, I like this concept a lot. It would be so easy to simply dismiss our condition and the presentations. But with love it can be seen.

The game shows a number of different types of witch. From the witch of origins who can make new imaginings that do not require another person to validate them to the Golden witch who has enough money to make reality via sheer financial coercion or the witch of truth who can make reality by asserting it to be so or witch of resurrection who can keep those who died alive in their memory.

Each witch is using their magical ability to "create" by taking their imagination and moving it out into the world. The Witch of Truth is a detective whose deductions are believed to be fact even if the accused disagrees. The Golden Witch can take any scheme or desire and pay people to make it a reality.

And Ange, the Witch of Resurrections, can bring back the dead by remembering them and keeping their voices in her heart. They live on in her writing. In her words. In her memory. So when she reads Maria's journal she can bring the Maria of 1986 into the world of 1998. When she reads of Maria's magical companions they can accompany her.

With this context, we return to Ange in her teen years.

Lonely and consumed by grief she is only able to find solace in imagining Maria with her, imagining Maria having forgiven her for saying Sakutarou wasn't real.

As she accepts the role of apprentice witch she is allowed to perceive Maria and her menagerie of imaginary friends.

Though there's a certain amount of strain and physical discomfort in maintaining the thought process of so many at once. Maria is able to do it remarkably easy but Ange has to struggle.

It's okay, Ange, dissociation headaches are an absolute bitch. They get better after a certain amount of stabilizing and communication work.

All the while she reads about Maria's home life.

To break the essay structure and be real for a moment. This segment hit me hard. I choked up crying and needed to take a break from the game for a while. The depiction of child neglect and abuse was too real and I feel it serves the fiction to depict it as such but it is a hard read. Please be kind to yourself as you read on.

Rosa Ushiromiya is the youngest of the Ushiromiya children, furthest from the inheritance and least respected of Kinzo's progeny. She likely suffered a large amount of abuse and neglect in her own childhood both physical from the eldest sibling, Kraus, emotional/psychological from her sister Eva and a combination of both from her other brother Rudolf.

Children raised in abusive households are more likely to develop personality disorders born from attachment trauma. A typical display of this is dichotomous thinking, praising and devaluing the same subject in waves based on stimulus. Within Borderline Personality Disorder, for instance, this is where the concept of Splitting and Black and White Thinking come from.

For Rosa, this manifests with her mood swings that have her violently scream and hit her daughter before lavishing her with apologies, affection and attention.

Every character in Umineko is burdened with a painful past. Each character feels the need to displace that pain outwards and project it onto other people. For instance Rosa displaces her pain onto Maria. Both of Ange's aunts displace theirs onto her. Kyrie displaces hers onto Battler.

Generational trauma is a heavy theme of this game.

Rosa makes her way as the head of a small fashion design label though she does not see a lot of success in her role. Early in adulthood she had a relationship that ended with her pregnant with Maria. Maria's father, upon learning of the pregnancy, left.

Rosa is young, lonely and feels that having a child makes it difficult for her to find love; in the time and culture of 1980s Japan being a single mother was seen as shameful. She finds that the best way she is able to date is to act like she does not have a daughter and take extended vacations across the country on weekends with her dates.

Leaving her daughter home alone.

Rosa has a number of hang-ups about the optics of leaving Maria in someone else's care, she is shown on multiple occasions in the story to fly into a rage when her ability to be a parent is put into question and she has massive cognitive dissonance in that she cannot bare to be seen as a bad mother and so she acts like a horrible mother to avoid looking bad.

I have seen a lot of debate on the logic here and first off, anyone who approaches this story with a view of "it does not make sense that a character acted this way" lacks the Love required to enjoy this story in full. The author enters a firm agreement with the audience to work within the confines of the fiction and not to disrespect the fiction by rejecting that which is offered. He will deceive us but never lie. In that we have to believe in the story.

But it's also a sign of those who have grown up with a proud optics obsessed parent and those who did not. Sad to say, I have experienced a few of the things which happen in this chapter and I have no doubt that Ryukishi07 saw some of it in his social worker career.

When Rosa leaves Maria alone at home, for days at a time, she orders her to never make anyone aware of her situation. More important than anything else never speak to the police about what goes on in this house.

That. I have lived that one.

What Ange reads and what Maria shows us in this episode is a weekend where Maria is home alone, her mother having forgotten a promise that was made to her and Maria is locked out of her house. She spends an entire evening searching for the lost key and eventually needs to seek a friendly store worker who recognizes her to get help.

This leads to police intervention, a social worker showing up at Rosa's house and...

I glossed over a lot. This is a dense book and this story takes up much of Episode 4. Suffice to say, Maria's friend Sakutarou was murdered in retaliation for Maria summoning attention of Rosa's bad parenting. Rosa abandoned her daughter for a full weekend after breaking a promise and when she was locked out and defenseless she asked for help and was violently punished for doing so.

Another function of the witch of origins is the ability to break the cycle of generational abuse. She does not take her pain and push it into someone else, she creates an imagined evil mother to hate and fear while continuing to love her 'real' mother. This way she never has to doubt the love she has for the mother who she has happy memories of and who custom crafted a lovely plush lion just for her.

Which leads to the discussion of trauma, memory and processing.

Ange, upon reading this story is crestfallen. She views Maria as a pitiable child, only to be confronted by MARIA who defends Rosa. Arguing that she legitimately forgot her promise, rather than deciding that her daughter was not worth the time or effort.

She claims constantly that Rosa is a good mother and that she is happy.

Maria, a being who can only view the world with love, despite being abused and hurt; chose to be happy and so through her magic it was so. She was happy.

There's a misconception I have seen and I will admit I held for myself upon reading Episode 4 that Maria was preaching to deceive ones own self in order to be happy. That it was enabling and accepting of her own abuse.

But this is actually one of the deepest things Umineko has to say about generational trauma...

Chapter 8 revisits the idea with a version of the gameboard where the Ange of 1986 is allowed to be on the island, something which was impossible because in truth she was not. Not even the witch of miracles could change that which is certain.

In this game, set by Ange's older brother BATTLER, the 6 year old Ange is treated to a fun halloween party with her aunt Eva run by her loving family. Throughout the entire story Grandfather Kinzo was made out to be the source of all evil and in this episode he is displayed as a kind and loving grandfather.

The entire reason I wanted to write this post and include it in my Media, Myself and I series (in lieu of discussing the overt plurality in the game, even) was due to a conversation Ange has with Battler about this deception.

Source: LP Archives - The full conversation can be found on this page for anyone who wants the full breakdown.

The entire story of Umineko is a struggle for those who experienced horrors to be able to come to terms with their memories and process them. This is true for Ange, it is true for Maria and it is true for the other members of the cast also.

Memory is malleable and uncertain and can and does become distorted due to understandings and contexts gained at a later stage, particularly when bias is in play.

For a graphic of how this works please look at this:

Source

The more a memory is reactivated the more it is eroded of its initial context and additional contexts bleed in. For Ange's circumstance she remembers her parents through the lens of knowing that her father was embroiled in legal troubles from his womanizing behavior. It is unlikely a 6 year old Ange remembers Rudolf in this light but her view of her father is painted through this lens and thus when she retrieves these memories the present context forces itself into the past.

This is just how the human mind works.

EMDR and other trauma treatments are focused on hijacking this system. When a traumatic memory plays out the amygdala processes the emotions and sense of danger which activates the nervous system. This process does not even require a conscious recollection; should a trauma memory be associated with a certain scent the nervous system will activate upon smelling it even if the survivor does not recall the event attached to the stimulus, the amygdala most certainly does.

I have spent too much of my life considering which of our memories had lavender scenting…

For EMDR the process involves retrieving the traumatic memory without allowing the client to reexperience it while ensuring they do so within the context of the present while highlighting safety and security. This allows the memory to be filtered through without the activating the nervous system. In some therapies this can be a process of re-parenting in which the emotional absence is provided either by the self or via a proxy. The idea is to allow the memory to break association with the trauma and be decontextualize until the memory no longer has negative associations.

Where I had assumed Maria's choice to be happy and think the best of her abuser was an act of enabling and self-deception, I now see was an attempt to stop dwelling on the negatives of the situation and allowing the past trauma to become a defining point within the present.

Maria cannot choose what happened to her. She can choose how she intends to live with what happened with her. She cannot know for certain what Rosa's motivation was in her actions. In fact as we go through the game the audience comes to be given some sympathetic information which though can never redeem Rosa's terrible parenting, can allow one inclined to feel sympathy for her. Like everyone else in the game, she's a victim too. Quite literally in 1986.

There's no way of knowing if she maliciously lied to her child and went off on vacation abandoning her or if she legitimately forgot her promise. No one is arguing that what Rosa did was forgivable. But it helps Maria continue living a happy existence knowing that she was loved and that the good memories she has of her mother are true, even if the bad ones are also true.

Maria, filled with love as she is, elected to see The Good Mommy and The Bad Mommy. Is this right or wrong? It's unimportant. What matters is if Maria can be happy.

Sakutarou was a stuffed lion said to be handcrafted by Rosa. Given as a gift and beloved above all things for Maria. When Rosa destroyed the Sakutarou doll the lion cub boy died and could not be resurrected by Beatrice because it was a unique item created by Rosa.

In Chapter 4's conclusion, Ange does the impossible and resurrects Sakutarou. She does this because Sakutarou was never a custom made doll crafed with love. He was a mass produced toy sold in travel gift stores that Rosa happened to pick up on her way home. She lied. Ange never tells Maria this. The miracle of Sakutarou's rebirth is enough. Knowing that the beloved handmade toy was not hand-crafted would not make Maria's life any better. Sometimes believing in magic is the best thing for someone living in a world painted by despair.

Funny that Ange understood that much for Maria and yet still sought after the One Truth up until the very end.

The finale of the game comes down to presenting this option to the player and by proxy Ange herself.

In a world where you cannot change the past and you cannot fully accept what happened, is it better to continue digging up the past and re-experiencing the trauma in hopes that there lays a truth that will make it all finally make sense or to try to make peace with the past and find moments of peace to hold onto. Holding to hate and pain only serves to bring the pain of the past into the present.

Ange, the witch of resurrection, has the ability to keep her family with her long after their death. Should she be haunted by the family that she was deprived or be happy for the limited memories she had and not be tethered to a world of the past she could never have possibly been part of.

Healing in Umineko is accepting love and making peace with loss. It is learning to live unburdened by tragedy and do the best with what was done to us.

If we cannot let go then we'll continue living in the world of the past turning over the events over and over trying to make sense of it and even if we are somehow granted the magical context, the one and only shining truth... it will only serve to make things worse. You can keep the past alive without letting the past control your future.

And Umineko does a remarkably good job of showing that.

Gosh... that took far longer than I'd hoped. Umineko is a difficult piece of fiction to type about because so much of it is subjective and hard to present to a broad audience without providing ample context.

I'd hoped to talk about Yasu's DID but I suppose that shall have to await another update. My original draft for this discussion was to discuss the different forms of dissociative amnesia with Ange's story serving as an example of how recontextualizing memory works. I may yet go back and do a full amnesia based ramble in the coming months. I just needed to get at least one aspect of Umineko drafted as it's been living rent free in my brain since December.

If you enjoyed this breakdown and found it interesting, please check out some of my other Media, Myself and I essays.

Derealization in Night in the Woods and Metal gear Solid 2 - Describing the sensation of derealization where the brain stops connecting associations between the self and the things one perceives in their surroundings. One example displaying how this impacts a person living with DPDR and the other showing an example of a game attempting to make a player share the experience with the player character.

DID and the healing process in Mr. Robot - A run down of the experiences of discovery, exploration, rejection and healing within DID as displayed in each season of Mr. Robot, along with a disappointed rundown of why the final episode fumbled the ball.

Bruce Banner and the roles of his alters - A breakdown of the formation of The Incredible Hulk's DID and what roles his many alters play.

Romantic relationships with systems - A look at the marriage between Bruce Banner and Betty Talbot-Ross Banner in Hulk comics and a frank discussion between Betty and one of Bruce's alters about how relationships function in a system.

Personality Play in Penlight - A review of one of the routes for a hypnokink visual novel called Penlight in which the protagonist hypnotizes a woman to have an alter personality, along with some descriptions of how dangerous play like that works in real life and what the consequences could be.

#dawn posting #umineko #ange ushiromiya #maria ushiromiya #ahaha.wav #media myself and i #media essays

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miguel-manbemel · 9 months

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My BBF

Inspired by an incorrect quote by @dikdikpronouncedxylophone . CW Dukeceit

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides incorrect quote #sanders sides photocomic #remus sanders #janus sanders #dukeceit

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all4yoi · 1 year

Text

Dear Jongseong,

pairing › jay x fem!reader

sypnosis › [name] has only ever known pain ever since her mother's passing.. but whenever she's about to lose herself, jay has always been there to her aid and remind her that life isn't simply about pain.

cw › 2.23k words - lowercase intended, fluff, angst, friends to ??, usage of substances, reader vomits, mentions of death, reader suffers from depression, su!cide attempt (overd0sing)

notes › it's okay not to feel okay, if you're going through something and you feel like ranting, my inbox is always open for you. i've just finished five survive by holly jackson recently so if you see any quotes of her here ikyk 🤞

"i don't want to, pa! just leave me alone!" you exclaimed as you threw the pill bottle infront of your father, messing up your hair as you breathed heavily.

the older man sighed, rubbing his tears away behind his eyeglasses before stepping forward. "you have to take your antidepressants [name]. it'll make you feel better." he calmly said, picking up the pill bottle you dropped infront of him.

"i promise."

"no, no, no." came your slurred response.

the elderly man let his tears escape silently as he saw his only daughter break apart in front of him, making no move to chase after you when you ran up to your room. he wondered what had gone wrong. instantly came to mind: indeed, his wife had passed away. three years have passed, and even though he was beginning to accept that his family would forever be incomplete, as he saw his daughter suffering from severe depression, he wished misun would enter through the front door, embrace him and [name], and reassure them that everything was just a nightmare and she's alive.

but a bad dream wouldn't last for 3 years would it? as much as he wanted his wife back, he desperately wanted his daughter back more.

So he dialed the only person that he was sure could calm [name] down.

"of course, i'm on my way." jay ended the call and instantly dropped the controller carelessly on his bed before getting his keys from his table and left his room.

"stop right there young man, where are you going?" his mother asked with a raised brow, putting the glass of water down on the counter and waited for her son's reply. his distressed face went unnoticed. "it's 11:30 in the evening." she added.

jay exhaled, opening his mouth but no words came out. he didn't know why he was so nervous.. was it because he got caught leaving the house so late, or was it because his head was full of you, you, you and only you?

"well? if there's no good reason.." the woman trailed off, extending her hand out, her palm facing the ceiling and gestured towards her son's car keys. this somehow made him talk.

"it's [name]! her father called and- ..a-and she's not feeling well.. fuck why am i stuttering?" he whispered a quick apology when he saw his mother furrow her brows with his foul language. "she just- i don't know mom! she just needs me okay? and the more i try to explain the more she's hurting alone!" he blurted out, brushing his hair back frustratedly.

his mother stood there startled, before nodding understandably. "okay, drive safe.. stay the night there if needed."

he nodded, hurriedly left the house and practically ran to his car and drove off.

jay held his tears back, his grip on the steering wheel tightening overtime that his knuckles were turning white. this had been a routine for 3 years straight. he'll either be in his room, out with his friends, stuck in a frat party before receiving a call from your father, and every single time.. he dropped everything and everyone who he was with to run to your aid.

he reminisced the past where everything was still all right. your mother and his sitting on a bench while the two of you pushed each other on the slide, or sneaking out and eating ice cream at a 24/7 convenience store. it hurt him that his best friend's whole word was taken away from her just like that, but he also didn't want to lose his own. he wouldn't forgive himself if something had happened to you. you were his job, his responsibility.

jay slammed the door of his car shut, running towards your house's front door and ringing the doorbell. instantly, your father opened the door, shooting jay a thankful smile. if jay had noticed the tear stains on the man's slightly wrinkled face, he didn't make it obvious.

"she's at her room, but she's locked it. it's been so quiet, and i'm so worried jongseong." with that, jay ran up the stairs and pressed his ear on your bedroom door once he has reached it.

and just like hajoon said, your father, it was quiet. too quiet for his liking.

"[name]?" knock knock. no answer

"it's seongie, can you let me in?" four knocks, still no answer. he was getting impatient.

jay didn't want to think the worse but he began pounding on your door, literally shouting your name again and again. his voice was cracking and sweat began forming on his forehead.

"call 911, please!" he shouted for your father who was already dialing the hotline. jay rubbed his face before breaking your doorknob.

once your door was open, jay's breath hitched at the sight of your body laying on the floor, unconscious. he had been too late. but he still ran to your side, pulling you up and tried shaking you awake.

it took him a moment to spot the pills on the floor beside where you were previously lying and shoved his index and middle finger in your mouth hastily, realization dawning him.

"i need you to throw up [name], come on, please." and once you've spilled your guts on your bedroom floor the paramedics has already arrived, the blue and red lights filling your room through the opened windows. jay choked back a sob, cradling your body. "you're okay, you will be."

he didn't know if he was reassuring you or himself.

"if i had just, chased after her." hajoon cried, his body shaking. jay's father pulled hajoon up, telling him that they should get some air together. hajoon complied and left the hospital with jay's father.

after the ambulance took you away, jay immediately informed his parents and they insisted they should be there for you and your father too.

"she'll be alright, jongseong." his mother rubbed his back. he didn't know why, but those three words angered him.

"she just overdosed herself with drugs and you're telling me she'll be alright?"

"well, i'm trying to be positive here!"

"well," he mocked, "it's not helping!"

jay has always been a mama's boy, so his sudden outburst shocked the both of them.

his mom exhaled and stood up with her purse, deciding to be the bigger person. "i'm going to get some food, call me if you need anything."

right when his mother left, a nurse approached him. jay instantly stood up, awaiting for the woman infront of him to start speaking.

"good evening, is any of miss [name]'s parents around?"

"nevermind that, is she okay? will she be okay?" the nurse blinked at him before nodding.

"yes, she will be. you were just right on time and it was a very smart move to make her vomit.. though we aren't sure when she'll wake up.. you can visit her right now if you'd like." jay felt like crying in relief, he thanked the nurse before entering the room you were admitted in.

he swallowed the lump in his throat and sat down on the chair beside your bed, the beeping of the machines were the only noise inside the room. jay didn't like seeing you like this, with all the wires hooked to you and your face scarcely displaying any color.. but at least you were at ease, finally, after three years, you were now experiencing tranquility rather than anguish.

"i'll wait for you.. but don't make me wait for too long, okay?"

it has been exactly 2 weeks since that night in the hospital. jay hadn't been himself ever since, he would space out during lectures, staying up all night hoping he'd get a call from the hospital or your dad.

jay was seated in the cafeteria with his friends when he received a call from your dad. he immediately excused himself, answering the phone as soon as he stood up.

"she's awake, jongseong."

that was all he had to hear before he was taking his backpack from the table, ignoring the questions from his friends.

sunghoon: dude if u were skipping u could've taken me w u :<<<

jay: shut up

jay: [name]'s awake

sunghoon: oh shit fr??

sunghoon: k dw we'll cover for ur ass

sunghoon: drive safe and send our regards to your gf ❤️❤️

jay entered the room silently and he had to hold back himself from tackling you in a hug and just cry on your shoulder, but he remembered this wasn't about him.

"hi." he whispered, sitting down on the same chair he last sat on and placed the food he ordered on the way on the table beside your bed.

your lack of response made him gulp. slowly, you looked at him, unshed tears resting on your tear ducts.

jay cooed, "oh, [name]," and got to his feet, embracing you. he stroked your hair while he resisted crying himself, and let you cry on his favorite shirt.

"please don't cry." he said in a whisper and pulled your head away gently, wiping your flowing tears with his thumbs.

"i-.. i'm sorry, jongseong." another sob from your throat escaped.

"you have nothing to apologize for."

"i almost left everyone.. left you."

he shook his head and gave you another hug, putting his lips on top of your hair as you whimpered inwardly, "but you didn't, and that's all what matters now."

"[name]?" you hummed in response, your breathing finally going back to normal. you did no movement to pull away from the embrace.

he pulled away, caressing your cheek, asking, "promise me you wouldn't do that again?" you simply nodded, and he smiled sweetly in your direction. he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, "good."

jay stayed by your side the whole day, feeding you, entertaining you, showing you jungwon's his notes, and filling you in with everything you've missed for the past 2 weeks.

it was the first time jay had seen you smile so much after 3 years, and he felt content, knowing he was the one who was able to make you happy like this.

the both of you were happy, until it was time for him to go home.

with his hand playing with your fingers, he murmured in a lovely voice, "i'll come back tomorrow with the boys after school, i promise." once more, he gave you a tender kiss on the forehead before releasing you.

he was about to leave the room, but your voice stopped him.

"hey, jay?" he turned towards you with a questioning gaze. "the night that i.. i- uh, wrote something for you." you played with the folded paper, avoiding his gaze.

"i don't think i want to read that [name]." he said breathlessly, shaking his head.

"please, everything i've wanted to say to you is in here. please read it, if you don't.. well, i won't stop trying." you blinked at him, finally looking up at him. jay gulped, wetting his lips before accepting the paper.

"it's nothing bad, i promise." he nodded, squeezing your cheek before finally leaving the room with a wave.

when his mother asked, "how was she?" once he got home, he simply gave her a peck on the cheek and responded, "she's fine," before heading up to his room.

he practically threw his bag on the floor before sitting down on his bed, opening the folded paper with shaking hands.

dear jongseong,

i'm writing you a letter because i don't think i'll ever be able to tell you everything i want to say to you if i said this in person.. first of all, thank you, for absolutely everything. for being there in the wake and letting me cry on your shoulder, for tolerating me for 3 years.. i know at one point you were probably so tired of seeing me ruin my life. taking substances, skipping school, shutting you and my dad out.. i'm sorry, i was a fool of thinking i'd forget everything if i took those.. i thought i'd be okay on my own. so thank you, for always being there whenever my dad calls, i've heard every single thing you've said to me when you thought i was knocked out, and i love you too, seongie. but it's so scary, i'm so scared of love, i'm so scared of you being taken away from me, just like how mom was taken from me. jongseong, please never leave me, i don't know what i'd do without you, you and dad.. you're all i have left, please help me. please don't ever stop helping me until i get better, i appreciate you so much and i love you so much. i'm so thankful for you and at the same time i'm so fucking sorry. am i selfish for wanting an ending that's just you and me? i promise i'll be better, for you and for dad, and for me too. i don't know if i'm still here once you've read this, but if i am, please run back to me. please come back and never leave my side. i love you, jongseong, forever and always.

yours forever,

[name]

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