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ambrosiagoldfish · 2 months

Note

I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

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wndaswife · 7 months

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hi! do you think you could write smth about mean mommy wanda when she finds out that you've touched w/o permission? thank you so much, im obsessed w all of your fics!!!

breach of trust | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

While she’s away at a city council meeting, you find mommy’s collection of special pictures and can’t help but start touching yourself to them, and she isn’t particularly pleased when she comes home to see her baby having enjoyed herself without her.

Word count: 4963

Tags: smut (kinda), fluff, mdlg, aftercare, breast suckling, masturbation, spanking, degradation, mommy kink, there is crying but i don’t think it’s dacryphilia, but im tagging just in case you’re kinda into it, dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader | MINORS DNI

gif credit to vanessacarlysle

Mommy was a special, important woman; she was one of the primary representatives for the town’s school district, so on some Sunday mornings she had to leave early in order to make it on time for city council meetings in which they discussed things from tax fund relocations to local events.

Sometimes they didn’t talk at all about the school district, so mommy ended up leaving her sweet sleeping angel at home for no reason at all — or so she put it.

But no matter what they discussed at those meetings, those Sundays where Wanda had to leave early were dreadful, for on these mornings you had to wake to an empty bed and no kisses from mommy until around lunchtime.

Though on most occasions anyways, Wanda made efforts to message you to make sure you’d eaten breakfast and that you were holding up alright without her; she knew how lonely you could get home alone without her, for you wouldn’t let her come home each time without getting an earful of how much you’d missed her.

This morning seemed particularly long for whatever reason, and mommy hadn’t responded to you in about an hour, which meant that she was likely discussing something that did indeed involve the school district this time.

Breakfast was yummy fruits that had been cut up for you and refrigerated before Wanda left so you could have them with your waffles.

Wanda was happy to see that you weren’t overdoing the whipped cream and syrup like you normally did when you sent her a picture of the breakfast you made, although you did add a few extra spurts of whipped cream after you took the picture to send to her.

You left the syrup as it was, though.

After that, you watched a few cartoons to which Wanda asked which of your stuffies you were cuddling with when you also sent her a picture of you sitting in the living room.

She still hadn’t responded to the picture of you hugging your stuffies close, which you knew she’d especially love because you were holding the bunny stuffie she’d gotten you for Easter a few months ago closest to your chest.

In any case, you were getting antsy and bored and you missed mommy an extra lot this time.

So you decided to start exploring.

You had only moved in with Wanda a few months ago, and though you had been here multiple times before you started living together, you still thoroughly enjoyed looking through mama’s things.

She was only ever mildly annoyed when you unfolded her clothes, but otherwise she didn’t mind at all when her sweet baby was sitting in the closet looking through her things or sitting at her vanity fiddling with her jewellery.

There was one time where you were smelling Wanda’s perfume and looking through all her jewellery and makeup, and she sat you down on her lap so the two of you were sitting in front of the vanity while mommy did your makeup and put her jewellery on you and sprayed you with the perfume you liked the most.

The recollection made you all warm — you loved mommy so much. But it also made you even antsier, for you were now desperate for her attention and you missed her dearly.

In dire need to feel mama close, you went upstairs and sat on the floor of the walk-in closet.

Immediately, you unhooked one of her white cashmere pullovers and wore it before digging through the boxes on the top of her side of the closet.

Most of these boxes had Wanda’s important memories, more expensive jewellery she didn’t often wear, mementos, and other things you really liked to look through because you loved seeing things like photos of her and Tommy and Billy or tickets to her first poetry reading she attended.

There was a smaller box you hadn’t seen before, a white one set not on the upper shelf, but on the hanging closet organiser that both you and Wanda put some of your smaller things in, like scarves and belts.

You made space on the ground for the box, moving the other things aside and sitting cross-legged while you inspected the box.

Unsure why you hadn’t seen the box before during the other times you went through mommy’s things, you curiously opened the box and were met with a collection of pictures.

Stored on their sides, you couldn’t see the contents of them until you laid the box on the side and carefully pulled the pictures out from the box.

The sight made your face immediately heat up and you suddenly felt every inch on your body throb with desire and anticipation.

There were nearly twenty photos of both you and Wanda having sex, all derived from several occasions. You’d known she’d taken them, as she always showed them to you when you were cuddled against her chest feeling all sleepy and happy, but you had no idea she printed them out nor had you seen any of them since she showed them to you the first time.

There were some of them you liked particularly, photos of just mommy with a handful of her tits or while she was fucking you from behind or while she had you on your knees with your head buried between her thighs, or pictures with her fingers in your mouth or of you buried in her breasts while she rode the strap attached to your hips.

Why did mommy have these?

You felt a throb develop between your legs and you wondered if she used them to get off when she was without you, and though it made you pouty to imagine mama touching herself without you, it drove you up the wall to imagine her alone in bed looking at pictures of her sweet angel and fucking herself to them.

Then you started looking over the pictures of mommy’s tits and her view fucking you from behind and the one where your lips were wrapped around one of her nipples with her hand cradling the back of your head, and you felt yourself inadvertently beginning to press your thighs together, your cheeks heating up exponentially and your yearn to be with mama making it all the more intense.

By the time Wanda replied to your picture of you cuddling with your stuffies calling you adorable and telling you how much she couldn’t wait to be back home with you, you’d already taken your favourite photos to bed and laid them out on the blanket, now too distracted to notice the vibrations of your phone.

When you looked down at them all splayed out, you knew what it was that made your fingers begin to twitch and your knees begin to dig into the soft blankets of the bed, the sheets still a mess and the bed still unmade from when you woke up without mama this morning.

You took a few moments to look them over, each picture, feeling your body thrum impatiently while your mind raced to perhaps lock the images in your memory so you didn’t have to indulge in what edge you were about to spill over.

But that picture — oh, that picture — of mommy cradling the back of your head while you sucked sleepily from her breasts made you ache.

So you slid off your pyjama shorts and slowly took a pillow from against the headboard and slid it between your thighs, securing your knees around it and rolling your hips downwards.

You didn’t even pull your panties to the side at first, because you knew mommy didn’t like when you did anything like this on your own if you at the very least didn’t get her permission first — which she more often than not didn’t bestow, because mommy was a greedy and impatient woman when it came to you.

It wouldn’t be bad if you at least made yourself feel a little good, and your special big girl parts weren’t really touching anything but your panties.

But, oh, the smell of mommy’s cashmere sweater and the pictures of her pretty body made your head all woozy.

You used the same laundry detergent and all, but mommy’s clothes always smelled a little different somehow; it smelled richer, like some of her perfume or her shampoo, though you know it had been washed away in the washing machine.

In any case, you just felt completely surrounded by mama, and when you pulled your panties to the side and began rubbing your throbbing clit against the pillow, you didn’t feel that you were exactly disobeying her when everything surrounding you reminded you of her.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been going at rubbing yourself against the pillow to the photos of mama because you were in a strange place of feeling guilty that you were doing it and not wanting to be conscious of how long you were disobeying her for, and sheer pleasure from riding your pillow looking at pictures of mama that you could just look at over and over and over again, and they’d be there every time you opened your eyes or looked down at the blankets where they were sprawled out.

Though the amount of time you’d been doing it for didn’t matter, at least not to Wanda, who you hadn’t heard come home and walk up to the bedroom.

Perhaps she’d been suspecting that you were up to no good when her baby was uncharacteristically silent over texts, or that you were sleeping and decided not to make too much noise when she came up and looked for you.

Whatever it was, it was only until she dropped her purse on the floor a few feet away from the bed to storm over that it finally broke you from your concentration and made you realize that she’d come home.

By the time you looked up, she took your face in her hands and angled it up so you could look at her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she growled, looking down at you.

Your stuttered attempts to answer her question ended up being worth nothing when Wanda looked down at the bed and saw the sprawled out photos in front of you. She looked over at the closet and noticed the other photos left on the floor along with the open white box she’d stored them in.

With a hum that was startlingly cool and unassuming, she looked back over to you, her eyes scarily focused as she said, “It seems we have a rat infestation; my things being gone through while I’m not home, my things not being in the same place they were when I set them down.”

You swallowed and kept quiet, for you knew she was leading up to something; if it were not for the frightening steadiness in her voice, then it was the way her fingers remained pressing into your cheeks as she held your head in place.

“Unless you have an explanation as to why those pictures are on the floor, Y/N?” she asked, tipping your head down a bit so you had to look up at her as if you were a guilty puppy.

There was no use lying now, and besides, you’d felt guilty for what you were doing ever since you laid the photos down on the bed.

“It was me, mommy, I made the mess,” you confessed. “And I was doing big girl things without mommy’s permission.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed slightly, and then she looked down at the sweater you were wearing. The flash in her eyes seemed to be one of adoration, and you at least knew that a part of her appreciated you wearing her clothes when you were home alone.

Indeed, she did see the image of you with your face in her hands while you looked up at her with the sweetest pleading eyes and wearing her clothing to be a most adorable sight.

“Do you know what makes mommies, mommies?” she then asked.

Perking up a little as you thought about it, you answered hopefully, “Having a baby like me to care for?”

“And what does ‘caring’ for a baby like you mean, Y/N?”

You hummed thoughtfully before responding, “Giving me kisses and cuddling me and making me feel like the most special little girl in the world.”

“Oh, of course,” Wanda conceded, smiling at you.

But her grip on your face did not lessen.

“Yet, if that were the only way mommies care for their babies, then anyone else could do the same and be just as important to you as mommy,” she explained.

“Sweetheart,” Wanda cooed, “there’s one thing you’re missing.”

When you didn’t answer, looking at her curiously without any implication that you knew what it was that you were missing, mommy said, and tightened her grip on your face, “Discipline — mommies get to discipline their little girls when they’ve been bad.”

She suddenly pushed you back and let go of you, using her other hand to tear the pillow out from between your legs.

“No, mama, please!” you begged, getting onto your knees and crawling over to her. “I apologised already!”

“I have yet to hear this apology,” she said as she collected the photos from the bed.

She was right — you’d forgotten to apologise.

“I’m sorry! Mommy, I’m sorry! Please don’t give me spankings!”

“I’m happy to see you can take responsibility for your actions, honey, but what kind of precedent would I be setting as your mommy if I let your disobedience go without punishment?” She placed the photos on the nightstand and straightened with her hands on her hips. “Be a good girl and take your clothes off.”

You sniffled and crawled forward further so you could kneel in front of her. “Please, mama, I don’t want to,” you continued to beg.

“Colour?”

“Green,” you answered honestly and sniffled, still hoping she’d take pity on you.

She maintained, “Then I’m sorry, honey, but you need to take your clothes off — now.”

You rubbed your eyes and Wanda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, reaching down and slapping your hands away from your face.

“You do not want to make mommy angrier than she is right now, angel,” she snarled from beyond a clenched jaw as she tightened a hand around your wrist. “I’ve been dealing with bullshit all afternoon and I come home to see you fucking off as if I’ve never disciplined you or taught you any form of manners in your life. The punishment I currently see fit is nothing compared to what I will force you to take if you don’t get your fucking ass up and take your clothes off.”

You knew there was nothing else to do but obey when mommy was this angry.

Earlier, you hadn’t realised how upset she already was; she must’ve been holding her tongue or trying her best to maintain her patience. She told you her punishment for you would be worse if you didn’t undress right this moment, but you also knew that the punishment you were getting now was already worse than what she’d originally intended when she caught you masturbating.

You took mommy’s sweater off first and then your panties, but when you moved to take off the loose cropped pyjama top that barely covered your tits, mama hooked a finger under the strap of it and released it so it slapped lightly against your shoulder.

“Leave this on,” she said. “I like how they make your tits look.”

Her thumb ran across one of your breasts and she thumbed for a moment at your nipple, amused at how quickly it hardened and how you pressed your lips trying not to moan in the face of how you were just about to be punished for indulging in pleasure.

She let go of you and sat down on the edge of the bed, adjusting her posture to allow you enough space to lay yourself across her lap.

Not protesting even a little bit, you crawled over to the edge and laid your stomach on her thighs. She moved around a bit so you were able to lay both your arms and legs down on the bed, leaving only your hips arched up a bit with how you were sprawled out across her lap.

“Spread your legs,” she told you, and you obeyed, making sure both of your legs were still on the bed so you could allow her proper access to you.

Wanda draped an arm over your waist and secured you in place while her other hand parted your thighs a bit more so she could lean over and inspect your cunt.

“Look at how wet this pussy is,” she said, disappointed. “You got so far without mommy’s help. Are you a big girl now, Y/N? You don’t need mommy to make you feel good?”

“No, mommy!” you protested immediately. “I-I was looking at pictures of you, mommy.”

She hummed, seemingly unconvinced, but you couldn’t tell for sure now that you were sprawled out across her lap, unable to see her face.

A thumb delved into your folds and spread you open, revealing just how sticky you’d gotten all on your own.

“It’s disgusting how good you seemed to have felt while knowing you were disobeying your mommy,” she said. “Mommy is very, very disappointed in you, honey, and not only because you disobeyed me, but because this filthy little cunt is telling me that you have no problem doing big girl things on your own. Does it feel better on your own, Y/N?”

“No, mama!”

“How will you prove it to me?”

“I can prove it to you — I can. I’ll take my spankings, mommy. I’m a good girl. I am. I made a mistake, but I love my mommy and I don’t want to do anything without mommy’s help. I was being selfish and I just missed you so much.”

“That’s sweet, honey. Indeed, you will have made it up to me should you take your spankings like a good, obedient girl. I understand little things like you make mistakes, and perhaps if it were any other day, I might choose not to punish you at all. But because you chose to be selfish today, I see it fit that I get to be selfish too. I’ve had a terrible day, and I want to be able to do what I want with my little girl to make me feel better. Does that sound fair to you, angel?”

You nodded quickly.

“Good,” Wanda said, “because mommy is feeling very, very upset.”

Worrying that perhaps if you questioned her at all you might set her off even more, but feeling curious anyways, you cautiously asked, “Why are you upset, mama…?”

Wanda took a handful of your ass, inspecting its soft, supple skin being taken into her hand. “Dealing with dim-witted idiots who seem to have no intention of saying anything worth anyone’s time yet taking it all up nevertheless has made mommy rather frustrated,” she answered. “Do you know how frustrating it is, baby, to expect so much more from someone, only to be disappointed?”

You were sure the question was rhetorical, so you could bury your face in your arms in shame while mommy delivered your first spank, eliciting a muffled yelp from you.

She continued, “I pour so much time and effort into those useless city council meetings, and yet it’s always the school district representatives that get overlooked. You have no idea how upset it makes me, angel, to come home and see you fucking a pillow of all things, because you were too much of a desperate, horny slut to listen to mommy’s rules.”

Another spank.

Wanda squeezed your ass and dug her fingers into your stinging skin.

“I want to hear you apologise again,” she demanded.

Immediately, you raised your head and said, “I’m sorry for not listening to mommy’s rules! I’m so sorry, mommy.”

Spank.

“What rules did you break, exactly, Y/N?” she pressed.

You swiped at your eyes and answered, “Baby isn’t allowed to touch her big girl parts and do big girl things without mommy’s permission.”

Another spank — this time, one on both sides of your ass.

“Why did mommy make that rule, sweetheart?”

“Because I’m too little to make big girl decisions,” you said, “and only mommy is big enough to know what’s best for me.”

Wanda rewarded your answer with a quick swipe of her thumb through your pussy, lightly grazing against your clit, before returning her hand to squeezing at your ass. “And don’t you see what happens when little girls make big girl decisions? Hm?” she pried. “Now you’re all filthy and ill-mannered, and mommy did not train you to be like that.”

Then suddenly, mommy was spanking you over and over, all over your ass, covering your delicate skin in flushed shades and trails of her nails.

“No one seems to want to listen to me today, honey,” she gritted. “And I thought that my baby, out of everyone, would respect mommy enough to listen to her.”

Seemingly propelled forward by the verbalisation of her anger, Wanda used one hand to spread your ass and delivered a spank to your pussy, making you cry out into the bed sheets.

“Nevermind the other idiots from the council, but I walked into this room feeling very betrayed and ignored by the sweetest, most beloved thing I’ve ever made mine,” Wanda explained sternly. “And there are not enough words in English nor Sokovian that could sufficiently express to you how upset that makes me feel, bunny.”

It was not the pain from the spankings that made you break, but instead, it was mommy talking about how betrayed and ignored she felt that did it.

“I didn’t mean to make mama feel bad,” you sniffled and rubbed at your eyes with the back of your wrist.

Wanda paused her spankings and replied, “I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart.”

You raised your head and took in a deep breath to steady yourself before saying, “I was just being selfish, mama. I really love mommy so much.” You rubbed your eyes again when tears started forming. “I’m not a big girl. I still need my mommy. I’m still just a baby and I still need mommy.”

From the way you were facing, you couldn’t see what mommy looked like when you said all that, and you weren’t sure if you were about to see what other punishments she had in store for when you disobeyed her even further.

You buried your face in your arms again and shut your eyes.

“Why don’t you tell mommy more about that?” Wanda asked, her voice smooth but not indicative of if she was upset or not.

Sniffling, you turned your head to the side so she’d be able to hear you when you spoke. “About what, mama…?”

A soft hand ran down the expanse of your stinging ass, almost soothingly.

“About how much you need your mommy,” she clarified. “Come on, honey. I want to hear about how my sweet little girl still needs her mommy.”

You wiped your face of your tears and raised your head.

“U-Um,” you stuttered, now feeling a little shy now that mama was asking for all your mushy feelings about her. “Well, I’ll always need mommy. Need mama to dress baby and make breakfast and cut up baby’s fruits in little shapes.”

The more you talked about it, the more lighthearted you became, and you perked up a bit as you started thinking more and more about what you needed Wanda for. “And!” you started again, excitedly. “And I need mommy to give me baths and cuddle me and give me kisses when I have nightmares. And I need mommy to hold my hand when I’m scared, and I need mommy to help me do big girl things.”

While you were speaking, Wanda kept rubbing her palm softly against your ass, and you imagined that she was pleased with what she was hearing for she stopped spanking you and talking about how upset her day had made her.

And mommy always liked petting her baby like that when she was content, like when you laid your head in her lap or when you were resting back against her in the bath.

“I like hearing these pretty things coming out of your mouth, honey,” Wanda said, sounding truly very grateful.

Then, she pressed a kiss to both sides of your flushed ass and gave you a gentle pat. “Come up and sit with mommy,” she said. “Are you alright? You aren’t feeling too hurt?”

Carefully and modestly as to not be improper by suddenly getting up and jumping into bed with mommy, although you certainly did want to, you sat up and followed mama to where she positioned herself against the headboard.

You shook your head and crawled over to her, where she sat you down on her lap and took you into her arms. “Feeling okay, mama,” you answered.

Wanda smiled, and she seemed much more relaxed than she did earlier. She stroked your cheek with her thumb and kissed the tip of your nose. “That’s good, sweetheart,” she whispered.

She looked down at you in a way that made you just absolutely melt, the way she was holding you close and petting your hair and touching your face.

“Do you want mommy to make you feel good?” she asked, trailing a hand down to your lower stomach.

You thought for a moment and Wanda waited patiently, until you cuddled closer and shook your head. Gently, you tugged on one of the buttons of her burgundy blouse and looked up at her pleadingly.

The picture of you suckling from mama still rang clear in your head, and really, it had been that picture that tipped you over the edge.

“Oh my,” she breathed out, impressed as she raised her eyebrows. “My little girl always has the best ideas, hm?”

Wanda pinched your nose, which made you giggle, before she began unbuttoning her blouse, doing it slowly enough so you could watch each one come undone, exposing more and more of her.

She looked at you with a smile on her face as you watched her unbutton her shirt, simply taken by how much love her little girl had for her.

When her blouse was unbuttoned with just her bra keeping you from her breasts, Wanda leaned down and kissed your lips and then your forehead.

You hooked a finger around her bra and looked up at her for permission. She gave you a single nod and, eagerly, you pulled her bra down and released one of her breasts.

Wanda brought you forward, and your lips immediately latched onto her nipple. She sighed in satisfaction and she leaned back against the headboard, stroking your head softly as you sucked.

“That’s good, bunny,” she whispered and brushed the corner of your mouth with her thumb. “Ah, your lips are so gentle.”

After a few tender moments, a sudden thought came to you and you unlatched from mommy’s nipple and looked up at her before asking quietly, “Why did you have those pictures, mommy?”

“The pictures of the two of us, angel?” she asked and looked down at you cuddled against her. She tapped your nose with her finger. “The one you were being all naughty with earlier?”

You blushed and turned your face away a little.

Wanda’s other hand that cradled the back of your head used its fingers to tilt your head the other way so you were looking back over at her. “I couldn’t stop looking at them on my phone and decided to get them printed. I was planning on sharing them with you soon, but I couldn’t find the right time,” she told you, her voice sweet and soft.

“It’s partially my fault — what happened earlier,” she then added, her fingers stroking your cheek. “I shouldn’t have kept the treats out where my little kitten could find them.”

She smiled when you giggled and she leaned down to kiss your forehead.

Then Wanda said quietly, “Thank you for being so sweet and patient with me, baby.” She hugged you closer so you could rest your head on her chest. “I know you did something bad today, but I didn’t have to be as harsh with your punishment as I was. I was just very upset, and seeing you do such things without me made me feel very left out.”

You looked up at her from her, nearly about to tell her how much you loved her again, but Wanda could understand it from how you looked at her.

“It’s okay for you to make mistakes sometimes, sweetheart, especially when I know you did it just because you missed me. I lost my temper, is all. Thank you for caring for me by being so understanding, even when I was being a little mean. Even little girls care for their mommies too, you know.”

Sitting up a bit, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and hugged her. “I wanna care for mommy forever and ever,” you voiced proudly.

“Only if I get to be your mommy forever and ever,” Wanda teased, kissing your cheek and rubbing your back with her other hand.

“I’ll always need mommy.”

“Then I’ll always need my little girl.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

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lovebugism · 27 days

Note

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face.

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand.

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands.

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch.

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later.

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown.

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her.

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices.

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh.

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life.

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking.

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place.

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year.

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

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azullumi · 4 months

Text

“grocery shopping” ; genshin men

summary — a certain notion appears inside your mind, like a lightbulb on top of your head as if you were having an eureka moment when in fact, you weren’t. it was just a silly idea in which you are curious to know the answer to. alternatively, just your average grocery shopping with him with a little twist and that being placing every item that you see into the cart.

includes — various genshin men (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, a sprinkle of domestic, set in a modern setting ; headcanons

words — 1215

note — honestly this is just me and my mom whenever we go out for groceries (i always put everything that i see in the cart) ; this is the first time i’ve written after so long, aside from those stupid essays i have to do for school

;; Will let you be, however, he will put some of the items back

He doesn’t show an ounce of care and will just let you have your fun, for now. Because yeah, sure, you can add that box of mugs that are identical to the ones you have at home, dear, but that doesn’t mean you’ll see it getting packed into the grocery bags; Oh, that ladle set sure does look nice (you won’t see it in your place ever). He’ll let you indulge in your pleasures and won’t deny you of it, however, so much can only one do in this economy and some of the things that you are putting in is exceeding that. He’ll put some of the things back whenever you are not looking, trying not to get noticed. Perhaps you won’t notice it at first when a few things are missing and somehow, the cart doesn’t seem to get full no matter how many you are adding to it. He’ll act so innocent and naive when you ask him about it, however, smiling at you softly and asking you what you are talking about. He’ll only tell you of it once you’re on your way back with the bags, expressing an apology that he has to remove some of the things in the cart that you added and you two will get it again next time.

Thoma, Baizhu, Tighnari, Venti

;; Will get another cart

Oh no, dear, the cart is full already? You just have to wait there and he’ll get another one for you, so for the meantime, you can scope and look out for other items that you want to get. One word, supportive. Or maybe he just loves to spoil you a lot. Either way, he clearly lets you do whatever you want; he’s a little bit of an enabler, perhaps. The weight of the groceries is nothing compared to the affection he has for you. You don’t even have to look at the price either—he advises you not to do so because that’s not really a concern (for him, atleast). Really, he loves you a lot to the point that he is willing to just watch you as he pushes the quite heavy cart and carries a basket like how you would carry a bag with just your arm (need yourself a man who’ll willingly push the cart for you and follow you around). He doesn’t mind it, it’s only one of the many things that he’ll do for you. There’s just one thing, however. You don’t know what you’re going to do with the pile of things you got so before paying it on the counter, you’ll have to return many of them.

Ayato, Pantalone, Diluc, Childe

;; Will be silent and confused but will let you be

At first, it starts off just like how it usually would: you grab some of the things that you need and want then place it in the cart as you two walk around the store and he simply lets you do as you want, just like your normal day of grocery shopping with him. Until several items were placed into the cart later and he had to question himself, why? Are those needed? What would you need a new blender for when there is a completely functional and working one at your home? He’s visibly confused but he will simply let you be because how could he stop you when you’re clearly enjoying whatever you are doing and he adores watching you in such light—you, simply, just walking and being with him has him falling head over heels for you. In lieu of that, it’s probably the reason why he’ll let you get away with doing some things including whatever you are doing (but that doesn’t mean he won’t be having any questions). Oh, how long the receipt will be. He will have to stop you as soon as the cart gets full and there is no more room for other important items, however. I mean, come on, there are more knives and cups there than there are for eggs and milk together.

Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Alhaitham

;; Will question every item you’ll put in

Is that really necessary? What’s that? Do you want it? He’s quite verbal on what is happening, becoming (your) voice of reason on this whimsical notion. His reaction is a mix of everything, he’ll let you add whatever you want but at the same time, he’ll place some of it back and would’ve stopped you from adding a few—perhaps he’ll also express his confusion, but never will there be annoyance: “Where are you going to use that for?” He’ll act more like a mother asking their child what in the world are they adding into the cart, just without the scolding part and telling you how it is expensive and you’re not the one paying for everything. He doesn’t mind you placing many things as long as they are essential and of necessity. He’ll let in a few of your wants here and there but not so much that it will consume half of the space of the cart. He’s more on the rational side of things, keeping you grounded to reality and that reality being the costs, the amount of things you’ll have to carry on the way back, and where you will even place some of those products that you completely don’t need.

Wanderer/Scaramouche, Cyno, Xiao, Kaveh

;; Will join you in adding those random things

All became a game of fun with him just as quick as you placed that one vase in the cart. Well, everything feels like a game with him even if it’s as simple as who’ll finish their food first. It’s silly, if you are going to be honest. You two were acting like children whose both of their parents lost sight of them at the store and are now running around the place, each with their own cart of their own (random) items. The competition? Who fills their cart first is the winner (with no duplicate items). Whenever you two would have an accidental encounter, you would check each other’s cart and see who has more then proceed to tease one another of who is the winner. However, the reality of the situation dawns over you two when you remember that you have to bring these things to the counter and pay for it—and the fact that you have to return, if not all, most of the items back to their proper places. By then, you two would have to start over the grocery shopping adventure again but this time, only with what is completely necessary in your cart. You’ll still have your own fun with him in this busy place, nonetheless.

Itto, Childe, Heizhou

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yanderecrazysie · 3 months

Text

Twisted Zoo Chapter 4

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags might not have worked, and I’m sorry if so!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous Part: Chapter Three

Next Part: Chapter Five

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I was in a “blushy” mood when I wrote this

—----------------------------------

The parrot had returned to his perch and was watching you curiously as you pulled out your notebook. You decided that you might as well go over and study him first, since he seemed eager enough to talk earlier.

“Hey, I never got your name,” you said, waving at the colorful-winged boy.

He gave you a big smirk, “Ace is the name, don’t forget it.”

You couldn’t help but think he was even a little more cocky than the peacocks. The way he smirked at you made you feel like he was grating on your nerves a little.

“Well, my name is (Y/n), it’s nice to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly.

“I’m not going to remember that,” Ace said matter-of-factly, “Too many keepers, you know?”

You tried to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but it must have shown a little, because Ace’s grin was widening. For whatever reason, he was toying with you.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking some notes,” you said, holding your notebook up for him to see.

“I do mind,” Ace shot back without hesitation.

“What do you want to do then?” You asked, biting back a sigh, “Did you want to talk?”

For the first time, the mask slipped. The smug grin disappeared, revealing something more vulnerable, “Everyone that comes through just makes me repeat things like I’m some sort of circus freak.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, heart clenching at his confession. You could picture little kids trying to get him to repeat after them like a… well, a parrot, “I won’t do that to you. We can just have normal conversations.”

Ace’s eyes averted from your figure and a slightly blush rose on his cheeks, “Yeah, I mean, I’d like that.” He raised his arm to shield his blush from you, “Ah- I, um, we can talk next time.”

“Are you sure? I’d love to talk with you.”

“Yeah…” the redness spread to Ace’s ears. You hadn’t meant to make him blush, but you couldn’t help but think it was cute. You were disappointed when he spread his wings and flew off to the birdhouse, disappearing inside.

You pulled out your notebook and began to write:

DAY 1

PARROT

The parrot halfling’s name is Ace. His wings and hair are more orange than red like in normal parrots. Other than the wings on his back and the way his feet curl into talons, he looks human.

He’s able to hold conversations easily and probably knows more languages than the average human. He seems to like retreating to his birdhouse to eat and have privacy.

Next, you decided, you’d go to the raven, since his cage was right next to Ace’s.

The cage appeared empty and you quickly realized he must be inside his birdhouse. Because of the color of his hair and wings, it was impossible to pick him out among the shadows in the entrance.

“Deuce!” You called out, “How are you doing?”

Immediately, there was movement inside the birdhouse and Deuce’s head poked out, staring out at you, eyes glittering with excitement despite his calm expression. Dark blue wings spread and, before you knew it, his talons were digging into the perch at the edge of his cage.

“Remember?” Deuce asked.

“Huh?” Your mind went blank, unsure of what he was trying to ask you.

“Remember?” Deuce asked again, this time pointing at his chest.

“Oh! Yes, I remember you.”

A soft smile spread across Deuce’s lips and you returned it with an even brighter grin.

“You? You name?” Deuce pointed at you and you startled. You had forgotten to tell him your name!

“I’m (Y/n)! It’s nice to officially meet you, Deuce,” you held out a hand for him to shake, but he merely stared at it in confusion.

“Deuce, you idiot, you're supposed to shake her hand,” someone’s voice snorted. To your surprise Ace had emerged from his birdhouse to poke fun at the bird in the cage next to his own.

Deuce reached out and grabbed your hand and shook it. His hands were so smooth you were amazed he wasn’t using moisturizer. You released his hand but he kept holding on to yours.

“Um, Deuce, you have to let go,” you laughed awkwardly.

Deuce’s face hardened and he tightened his hand around your own. You tried to pull away but he still didn’t let go.

“Let go Deuce!” You said sharply.

Deuce looked startled and dropped your hand. His face fell and he hunched his shoulders, looking ashamed.

“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure him, but it was too late, he was already flying back to his birdhouse.

Ace made a disgusted noise and disappeared into his own birdhouse once more.

Sighing shakily, you pulled out your notebook again.

DAY 1

RAVEN

The raven halfling’s name is Deuce. He doesn’t seem to know much English. Earlier, he had trouble opening the salad container.

He seemed to like holding my hand, as he didn’t want to let go.

“Let’s go talk to the flamingos,” you said to yourself, walking over to their cage.

The flamingos were on the opposite side of the cage, but you were hesitant to step inside. The enclosure was designed to look like the wetlands, and you were afraid your shoes may get absolutely ruined.

Oh well, you figured, I can just get new shoes if that happens.

Cater and Riddle looked up as you entered the cage, the gate closing noisily behind you. They watched you curiously as you cheerfully made your way towards them. Suddenly, the ground gave way and your left leg sank up to the knee in water. You lost your balance and started to fall towards the large pond taking up half their exhibit. You let out a strangled cry as the water grew closer.

Then, everything stopped. You were suddenly aware of hands holding your waist and forearm, keeping you from plunging straight into the water.

“Nice catch, Riddle!” Cater gasped, his hands joining the smaller man’s to help pull you onto dry land.

Shakily, you said, “Thank you guys so much!”

Riddle turned his head away, but nodded bashfully, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Cater grinned at him knowingly.

“I just wanted to say ‘hi’ to you two and introduce myself,” you explained, “I’m (Y/n), and I’ll be visiting you every few days.”

“Not every day?” Cater pouted. Maybe it was your imagination, but Riddle looked a little disappointed too.

“No, sorry,” you apologized.

“Tired,” Riddle said sharply.

“It is getting late,” Cater nodded.

Curiously, you asked, “How do you know English so well, Cater?”

Cater beamed, “I was a pet.”

A pet? Keeping a wild halfling as a pet somehow felt worse than keeping them in a zoo, but you couldn’t explain why. At least Cater didn’t seem to be bothered by his past.

You looked up at the sky and cursed- it really was getting dark. If you wanted to see the peacocks before darkness fell, you’d have to hurry.

“I’m sorry, I should go say ‘hi’ to the peacocks,” you told the pair.

Riddle nodded and began to walk away. Cater pouted but nodded as well. You quickly jotted down a few notes in your notebook.

DAY 1

FLAMINGOS

The two flamingos are named Riddle and Cater. They’re different from the other birds in that they have webbed feet instead of talons.

Cater is a former pet, so he knows English pretty well.

You felt like your notes were getting shorter and shorter, but you were feeling tired today. In the end, the notes were for your eyes only unless you made a discovery. So far the only thing out of the ordinary was Deuce’s hand holding, but even that wasn’t anything surprisingly. Halflings wouldn’t know what makes humans uncomfortable, after all.

You found yourself slipping into the peacock enclosure without even thinking about it. All three of them looked at you, so you smiled and waved at them. Rook waved back enthusiastically, but Epel continued to stare and Vil looked away haughtily.

Once you were close to them, you found yourself admiring Vil. Despite his attitude, he really was gorgeous, “You’re so beautiful, Vil.”

Vil’s eyes went wide and he looked at you in surprise for a moment before a gentle smile spread across his lips, “Thank you.”

Epel and Rook looked just as stunned as you felt. Maybe he wasn’t as prickly as you had originally thought.

“You’re Epel, right?” You asked the adorable lilac-haired peacock.

Epel nodded and, before you could say anything else, he sternly said, “Not cute!”

“What?” You couldn’t figure out what he meant. Was he saying Vil wasn’t cute? You weren’t cute?

“Mademoiselle,” Rook smiled and brushed his fingers along your arm, “He not like cute.”

“He doesn’t like being called cute?” You asked.

Rook and Epel both nodded.

“Alright, then I won’t call you cute,” you reassured him, “Is handsome okay?”

Epel nodded, tucking his chin against his chest in embarrassment.

You giggled and introduced yourself, “Well, I’m (Y/n)! I’ll be visiting you every few days.”

“Nice to meet you, Mademoiselle,” Rook said.

Epel stumbled over his words, “Nice to… meet you.”

Vil didn’t say anything but he gave you a nod of acknowledgment. You pulled out your notebook.

DAY 1

PEACOCKS

Peacock halflings have a fan of feathers protruding from their backs, setting them apart from all other bird halflings. The peacocks at the zoo are named Vil, Rook, and Epel.

Rook is friendly, but the other two, especially Vil, aren’t as interested in me.

Note: Don’t call Epel “cute”.

The peacocks looked tired, Epel having already sat down and pulled his wings around him. It was best if you went to the bird you had saved for last- the owl.

You waved goodbye, only receiving a responding wave from Rook. A few moments later, you were closing the gate behind you and heading over to the owl’s cage.

The green-haired owl was awake and chowing down on his salad. He looked at you curiously, a gentle smile gracing his lips as you approached him.

“I’m (Y/n), I never had the chance to ask you your name.”

“I’m Trey,” the owl responded, his voice smooth. You were surprised to realize that he wore glasses, and wondered how on earth they did eye tests on halflings.

“How did they know you needed glasses?” You asked. After all, it’s not like they could have him read something out, since halflings couldn’t read.

Trey smiled, “I hit things. With my wings. I fly. Fly into things.”

“That makes sense,” you mused, “So it’s better now?”

“Yes, better now,” Trey nodded.

You couldn’t explain what it was, but for some reason, the way Trey looked down at you made your stomach twist unpleasantly. It was like he was the one researching you. His eyes were sharp, greedily taking in every movement, while the simple smile remained glued to his face.

He put you on edge.

“Well…” your smile wavered, “I’m going to take some notes.”

“No more talking?” Trey asked. You couldn’t tell if it was your imagination or not, but the smile seemed… off. As though he were mocking you.

You had a feeling this halfling was much more intelligent than he let on.

“Sorry,” you forced a bright smile, “I’m going home soon, so I need to do this.” You pulled out your notebook and began to write quickly.

DAY 1

OWL

The owl halfling’s name is Trey. He has a barn owl’s wings, but he has green hair. He wears glasses.

Note: Keep your eye on him.

You were so tired, you were probably imagining things. Either way, you were ready to get home as soon as possible.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

Text

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #birthday fic

651 notes · View notes

bitchlessdino · 4 months

Note

Sexy DK request time: He's tied to the bed and you do a strip show for him, he can't touch you, can only see your sexy af self, you can take this anywhere you like- Sam @dkakapizzaboy

Pairing: husband of mistress seokmin x fem married!reader Genre: angst, smut, slight fluff Word count:7.7k tags: insecure seokmin, mutual infidelity, unprotective sex, sub!seokmin, dom!reader, strip teases, male bondage, mention of fem oral, blow jobs, "ma'am" svt member!husband, let me know if I’m missing any! Summary: With the mutual understanding being cheated on, Seokmin finds solace in you, the beautiful stranger with ties to man that ruined his marriaged, Fortunately, light peeks out of the most inconvenient of circumstance. author note: still on hiatus but finally got this ok. sorry for teh wait sam my arch nemesis, thank you my darling wife @wongyuseokie for beta reading 💗

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @seokgyuu

Unknown number: hi. you may not know me but my wife knows your husband and I think they’re having an affair.

You've stared at the message for hours on end and just about lost your mind with every letter of every word. You could practically recite it without a beat, the sound of glass shattering in the distance every time you’re met at the end.

You didn’t believe it at first—part of the reason being you don’t want to—but it would logically explain his recent changes. The late nights. The woman’s perfume. The infrequent time at home.

You feel numb.

Buried in a weighted blanket of deceit and betrayal, you wallow in the depths of your sheets until the words seep into the deepest dark abyss of your chest, squeezing your heart until it feels like it pops. A few more notifications followed the initial, going off at a nervous pace. The sender's agitation is abundantly clear.

You think to ignore it. You think to forget whatever you read and go about your married life as normal, but it gnaws at you. A violating parasite crawls around the wrinkles of your brain, biting, chewing, and consuming your perturbed consciousness. It leaks out of you in tears, sorrow, and a pervasive bodily ache.

Eventually, your hand finds your phone thrown to the ground and claims it in your vice grip before reading the incoming messages.

Unknown number: I read her messages

Unknown number: it’s been months it looks like

Unknown number: me and her have been married for less than a year

Unknown number: I won’t be too affected by this

Unknown number: I think

Unknown number: but are you ok?

No. No, you weren’t.

Unknown number: if it’s ok, I’d like you to meet with me.

Unknown number: see the proof in person.

You know you'd be stupid to meet with a stranger you connected with through the phone. He could be a liar, murderer, stalker—you have no idea. However, if he's telling the honest truth, he'd be the only person right now who would understand your excruciating pain more than anyone else. He'd serve as proof that the life-sucking sensation coursing through your body is a sad reality, and facing that terrifies you.

However, reality manifests as a beautiful man. A beautiful man with a heart-shattering expression that makes you want to pick him up in the palms of your hands to tend to his invisible wounds.

You're perplexed. You weren’t sure if there was love that existed for you, but for him, love should’ve been guaranteed. He looks as if he deserves every star dedicated to him for every second he breathes. Every tear he shed. Every word he spoke. In another world, he’s someone’s muse, not someone’s victim of infidelity. Surely. Surely this was all some misunderstanding.

“Did you want that decaf?”

Your eyes flutter in his direction, registering the spoken words on his tongue. Sputter on your lips, you work the softness of your jaw in a gentle nod and swallow the words hitch down your throat. He splays a warm, but small smile, and gets up to head in the direction of the counter. His long, broad stature leans against the edge. His chest bellowing out of his diaphragm and out his lips, he softly mutters the drink orders to the cafe attendant.

Your eyes bat gently, observing him in slow motion, a coiling sensation in your gut. You exhale out of your nose in retreat, averting your gaze to your lap, jolting yourself out of the sudden fixation. You know you shouldn’t have been doing that. You have better self-control than that. Now was not the time for that.

His footsteps retreat toward you, and he settles your drink by your side of the table. Your eyes flit up at him, gaze descending as he modestly takes a seat across from you. His wide-toothed grin is polite but noticeably strained. "Thank you for meeting with me." His hands fiddle in his lap, visibly as disoriented as you are.

“I’m glad you texted me,” You respond cordially, “Those pictures were a hard pill to swallow…but I’m glad I saw them.”

He dryly chuckles, a solemn look of anguish etched on his face. "Yeah, I felt the same way."

Accepting the drink, you bring it against your lips. Despite being decaf, it proves as bitter as regular—an unexpected comfort, considering the usual presence of excess cream and sugar have felt overwhelming lately. The bitterness numbs your tongue, and you sense it traveling in a lump down your throat as you swallow.

"Sorry." His apology shakes you into clarity, his eyes quivering as they settle on you. "I'd seen photos of you—finding your husband, of course, because I didn't—um, okay. It's just strange to see you in front of me. Makes everything more..."

“Real,” You say, completing his sentence. “Yeah.”

His adam’s apple shifts in a nervous gulp. “How long were you together?”

“Five years. If you counted the last four,” you answer with a lingering chuckle. “I had an idea that’s what he was doing, but ideas are harmless until you’re true.”

“That’s—wow—impressive.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Don’t. Considering the circumstances, it’s nothing to be proud about. If I had known earlier I would’ve shoved those papers in his face a long time ago.”

“But you’re so…strong. How do you get like that? After five years?”

You shrug, shrinking under his charged gaze, glistening in a sheen of genuine admiration. “Practice. If you stayed a little longer, you’d learn it too.”

“I don’t think I could’ve survived that.”

“Well, you contacted the spouse of the man sleeping with your wife. That’s pretty fucking strong.”

He’s bashful again, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoids your eyes. All he can do is nod in response, not used to attention so warm and encouraging. So unlike Ami.

He discovers that you are far less deserving of betrayal than he had imagined. Your eloquent and poised conversations impress him, and the admirable lightness in your solemn tone adds to your appeal. From the moment he became aware of your existence, he felt compelled to meet you. While he initially rationalized it as a civic duty, there's an underlying motive that continues to fester in selfish desire, even when the topic of divorce is raised.

“Can we do this again?” he suggests timidly, hopeful you’ll agree. "Until the papers are final, at least. It’s kind of freeing talking about this with someone in the same shoes.”

Your lips softly curl up at the ends. “I’d like that.”

There's a substantial list of tasks to tackle before everything is finalized. You imagine how grueling it’d be to navigate through this by yourself and appreciate you weren’t alone on this. Recognizing that he's undergoing the same steps in grieving his failed union, it feels almost instinctive to join forces. Partners in divorce, each navigating the end of each of their own unhappy marriages.

“Sorry, I just had to get something.”

You had come remarkably close, and the opportunity to accompany him home practically fell into your lap. Stepping into his space for the first time, you were immediately captivated by the photos adorning the walls, each one capturing her in a stunning, large white gown. In the enlarged picture on the wall, she radiates happiness, her joy undoubtedly amplified by standing next to Seokmin, who stands tall and sharp, his pride and happiness evident. As your eyes take in the scene, you find yourself amazed by the sheer elegance and warmth emanating from the photograph. A couple epitomizing love. So why—

“Found it,” he says, his fingers clutching the file between them. His gaze lands on your location, and as he registers the reason for your silence, he adds with a chuckle, “Oh, yeah. Ha-ha. That was really expensive.”

He approaches you with deliberate steps, both of you studying the wedding portrait together. "A thousand pictures, three hours editing, five hours of sifting through them, and a couple of grand later, this turned out to be the best one," he remarks. There's a hint of wry humor in his voice as he adds, "She jokes that it was the best thing to come out of this marriage. Now, I'm starting to wonder if it was a joke at all."

“Well, it’s so fucking amazing work. You look incredible.”

He acknowledges your sincerity. Naturally. It's a meticulously composed photo with thousand-dollar lighting, and makeup seamlessly blended into both of their skin. It was crafted to be admired, despite the evident imperfections concealed beneath the surface. Nonetheless, Seokmin's cheeks color at your commentary, a warmth palpable to the touch. "Thank you. Um, shall we?"

As you invest more time with him, the lingering question persists. Seokmin embodies perfection in every conceivable aspect, surpassing the qualities your husband ever possessed. The puzzle remains: Why? Why would his wife betray someone so genuinely kind and undeserving of such disloyalty? The enigma of her actions deepens with each passing moment spent in Seokmin's company.

Had you been in her shoes, you would grant him whatever he desires. The lengths you'd take to show your deep appreciation for him would extend endlessly, reaching far and lasting indefinitely. With complete faith, there wasn’t one damn rotten bone in his body, and he’s proven time and time he’s a sweetheart in and out. And although you were the one you were lucky enough to take his wife’s place, the least you could do is show him the courtesy of a friend. A friend who is cultivating feelings that start to transcend the simplicity of amicability.

“You know I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a home-cooked meal like this.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t feed my award-winning dish to just anyone.”

“It’s delicious. Like every bite filled with a mother’s hug. The best thing I ever put in my mouth.”

The way he says that tightens you in knots as you scrape off the remaining bit of your meal into the trash, letting the hot water from your faucet run down your plate. “A-an honor.”

You hear the scratch of his chair dragging on the floor as his padded feet approach you. “Let me help you with that.”

“You don’t need to—“

“You made dinner, let me in your humble abode, the least I can do as a guest.”

As your eyes follow the sequence of events, his long limbs gracefully extend over, prompting you to delicately set aside the dish with a self-assured smile. "You've done plenty. Let the host handle things."

He chuckles in disbelief. “Come on.”

“Stop it.” You giggle, splashing water at him.

He scoffs, splashing back. “You stop. Come on.”

“Seokmin!”

In a playful exchange, you engage in a subtle power struggle while fighting over the task. As he attempts to take control, you defy his dominance, completing the task before he can assert authority. Tension mounts as you press him against the counter, feeling the taut surface of his abdomen beneath your palm. A breathless moment ensues, and you slowly withdraw, leaving the air thick with anticipation.

You don’t notice the expression on Seokmin’s face when you unintentionally feel him up. The patter in his chest when it stroked down as you let go. The twitch in his pants when he notices your eyes are still glued to his body. He wishes he’d stop you from resisting, let you have him where you wanted. Move your body against him.

But you're married, just like him. Albeit unhappily, but he must've confused trauma bonding for affection, lust, and longing. He wasn't actually falling for you; he's just lonely. Needy. Horny.

Seokmin just needs a good wank. A proper one with mood music and the lotion that smells like lavender or roses. All the romantic shit because that’s the type of guy he was. A romantic.

The challenge is doing it without your face popping in his head.

For the longest time, he’d only thought of his wife. Although met through an arrangement via each other's parents, he thought he could love her, live with kids of their own, and live a happy life. For a moment he thought it was possible.

And then it came sex. Again and again, it would fail. And the smaller, the smaller he’d become. Like a shitty moldy piece of gum on the back of her shoe. Fuck it if she made him feel smaller than he should’ve. He knows he doesn't deserve it, and maybe it’s why your presence is so comforting.

A breath of fresh air. A change of pace.

The attempt at forgetting your face with his hand around his cock becomes a failed one, spreading his failure all over his abdomen as he slumps in his chair. his nipples stand erect in the cool draft.

He feels the need to see you again, a necessary step in clearing his conscience.

“Seokmin!”

“Hey! Ready for apartment shopping?”

“You bet. I just have one more thing to get in my bedroom. My wallet, it’s somewhere in there. Would you mind helping?”

“Oh yeah, sure. Uh…”

Entering the house, he allows the door to gently close, his footsteps echoing softly behind you. Observing the calm chaos of the room, he notices you tending to one side of your bedroom, and he contemplates, “In a drawer maybe?”

“Maybe? Just anywhere but—Wait, not there!”

He heeds your warning a second too late, pulling open a drawer revealing an array of toys too numerous to count—silicone, glass, plastic, and leather alike. The drawer houses an endless collection of items, all meticulously encased as if stored for display. One in particular catches his eye—a beautiful set of restraints that appear velvety soft to the touch. "Holy—"

Swiftly, you close the drawer, shielding its contents from prying eyes, and gently push him aside. “Hey! Don’t judge. He’s always been one buy these things, not like anything’s wrong with them. They were fun, at first at least.”

“I’m not judging, but backtrack. Ropes?”

Hesitancy singes the tip of your tongue. “He said silk ties slip off too easy to escape out of.” Your hand rests on your other wrist, reliving the memory somewhat fondly until it sinks down in your gut. “Rope leaves burns to remember how they felt. Like I said, they were fun. Until it became only what he wanted. Because it has always been what he wanted, and when I wouldn’t give it to him anymore, well…we all know how he handled that.”

“...Yeah I do.”

For the first time, a glimpse of sadness graces your expression in Seokmin’s presence, as if your relationship bears an unspoken sorrow. The furrow of your brows accentuates the subtle sighs and mild frown that follow. He yearns to soothe those features, wishing to impart a gentle reassurance, to convey it wasn't your fault if that was a concern. However, silence prevails as he observes you swiftly refocus on finding your missing item.

“Come on. Let’s keep looking.”

Complying with your request, Seokmin sifts through your belongings, eventually retrieving the misplaced wallet from beneath the bed. Announcing his discovery, you release a breath of relief and claim it back at your fingertips. He prizes the brief smile on your face before proceeding with the rest of today's plans.

The search for fortitude after it was all over went as well as expected, with most encounters with potential sellers assuming that you were looking for places with Seokmin, not just with Seokmin as each other's company. After the fifth apartment for sale, correcting them becomes less of an effort, and you find yourself momentarily forgetting that all of this is for your own distant, separate futures.

You arrive home, starved and parched from your scheming and Seokmin, ever the gentleman, playfully suggests that he takes charge of the evening’s dinner. You, as usual, politely resist, already taking the initiative a step before he could, following his lighthearted protests. Eventually, you compromise, allowing him the duty of gathering produce from the fridge and placing them on the kitchen island.

The absence of your spouse during these dinners has become a common occurrence, allowing his presence replaced by a string of repetitive excuses that you could only assume were to cover up his ongoing affair. It’d still leave a resonating ache in the pit of your stomach, but you’d be lying if you said the sensation hadn’t dulled since meeting Seokmin.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you said it hurt.”

“What did?”

"The ropes—if that's okay to ask! I—" His cheek flushes into a furious red, and bashfully, the surface of his palm covers the lower half of his face. Chuckling anxiously to himself, a glimpse of regret becomes evident on his face. "You know what? Never mind."

“No, what? You can ask, it's ok.”

“It’s just. I’m just a little curious.”

“Yes?”

“Being tied down for you was…arousing?”

You softly giggle, “For a bit it did. That’s when I still had a bit of input.”

“When did that stop?”

“Maybe when he got frustrated. I became less willing to do it. I wanted to try other things and he wouldn’t budge either.”

“...Like what?”

“He was always the one in control,” You shrug, “Wanted to try it out for once. He felt insulted.”

“That’s stupid.”

“I know right.” You shake your head. “He was different since. And so was sex. The little we had anyway.”

“...Ami said I was a pussy.”

You pause in your movement, turning your head towards him, observing as his head drops past his shoulders.

“She said I wasn’t a real man. ‘Out of all the men I was arranged to marry, why was it the most pathetic one?’”

You meet eyes, recognizing quiet sorrow in them. “That’s not true.”

“It is. I could be stronger, I could be manlier.”

“You’re very manly, Seokmin,” you reassure.

“Really?”

“Of course you are.”

“...Even if I wondering what it’s like to have those ropes to tie me down? Am I still manly then?”

A surprised and nervous tone colors your words as you feel a response catch in your throat. "Are you serious?"

“Gravely,” he says without thinking. "But, you know, it's just a random thought—"

“Would you like to experience it for yourself?”

“Are you serious?”

“Gravely,” you imitate, grinning.

He gives a tentative nod, the blush now unhidden by his hands. "Okay."

Guiding him back to your bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp casts a warm ambiance. You open the drawer he inadvertently discovered earlier today, its contents revealing an array of intriguing items. With deliberate care, you extract the rope from its designated spot, feeling its smooth texture under your fingertips. The room holds a hushed anticipation as you methodically untangle the rope, each loop a dance of shadows and highlights. You observe Seokmin's gaze, noting the subtle shifts in his expression as he follows the intricate journey of each strand unfurling in the dim light.

A subtle fire charges the air, palpable in the way his breath catches and his eyes widen. There's a flicker of uncertainty in his expression, a nervous anticipation that surfaces as he watches the rope unfold. The gravity of the situation settles in, and you can sense his apprehension growing with each meticulous loop you release. It's as if the sight of the rope carries an unspoken weight, stirring a mixture of curiosity and anxiety in him.

“You look nervous.”

He takes a pronounced swallow, hand coming around his other wrist. “You’ve never done this before, right?”

“I've seen it enough times to mimic it.” You walk towards him cautiously, the subtle rustle of the rope in your hands. "Do you trust me?"

Hesitantly, he nods.

Obediently, he pins his wrists to one another, your fingertips coming around to loop around either one. As you secure the knot, you notice the subtle tension in his shoulders, curiosity playing across his features. The room is filled with a quiet intensity, broken only by the hushed sound of your movements.

"How’s that feel?" You ask, adjusting the knot.

"Kind of tight?"

"Oh, sorry–"

"No, don’t be. It’s interesting," He replies, fingers exploring the texture of the material.

"Interesting, like it feels good?"

"I think so, but…"

"But?"

He hesitated, her gaze shifting toward the window. "How different is it tied to something? Like a bed frame?"

“Pretty different. You have a bit of control with just your wrists tied. When it’s against something…like a bed frame…there’s none of it. You’re kind of helpless.”

“Helpless,” he echoes breathlessly.

“Is that something you want to try too?”

Silently, he nods, his eyes flickering with anticipation. As you start to untangle the ropes, you internally count your breaths, and then lead him to the bed. Your knee sinks into the soft cushion of the mattress, sensing Seokmin's deliberate movement as he gradually takes over the center. His eyes, wide and lucid, silently observe your actions. A concentrated, half-lidded scrutiny follows as you maneuver between his legs, your heart pounding in your chest. With determination, you reach for one wrist, swiftly pinning it to one corner.

As the rope winds its way around his wrist, a subtle shiver courses through him, betraying the nerves that have taken residence beneath his skin. His hands, once steady, now exhibit a discernible tremor, a physical manifestation of the anxious anticipation that tightens every muscle. Then it comes to his second wrist. Each loop seems to tighten the grip of uncertainty, and you can almost hear the accelerated beat of his heart as the binding becomes more tangible. The quiet room amplifies the rustle of the rope, echoing the unease that dances in his eyes, creating a palpable tension that hangs in the air.

His eyes flutter at the pace of his heart, swallowing tension built in his throat, and a shallow breath escapes him. You limply part from your work, reluctant to meet his eyes, as yours bat erratically. Your lips part to speak, but all that escapes is a breathless awe, hardly forming an unsteady “T-there.”

You find yourself unable to avert your gaze, observing as he grapples with the situation. The sight of his struggle seems to compound his embarrassment, evident in his feeble attempts to break free—though it becomes apparent that success is an elusive feat, even with earnest effort.

The memory of your first time is what initially pops into your mind. You remember how anxious you felt–feeling your heart race even between your legs as if it were possible–yet elated to do something so different, and then the pleasure. The sensation of feeling everything at once. Sweat pilled on your skin humiliatingly, only your cries used to fight back. You haven’t thought positively about that experience until now, seeing it reflected onto Seokmin.

“They are really hard to get out of actually,” he chuckles defeatedly, but not so much so that doesn’t find himself enjoying the circumstance.

A nervous hum leaves your nose as you exhale, clenching the arousal between your legs cautiously. “Good now you know. So I guess—”

“I’m really helpless like this…can’t even get out of these on my own.” You perceive the audible constriction in his throat, a subtle indication that becomes evident as he articulates his words. Although unsteady, he isn’t scared. Something else flickers in his vision. Something that almost scares you.

Ultimately, you quietly acknowledge him with a mumble, reaching over to one side to undo your knots, but he stops you with a single word. With your hands trembling, your focus intensifies on the intricate task of trying to loosen the binds that restrain him. Your gaze remains fixed on the knots, avoiding direct eye contact, as the palpable tension in the room mirrors the shackles you’ve put yourselves in: his being physical, while yours are mental.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“You look at me differently now don’t you?”

You shake your head apprehensively, your grip tightening around the ropes, half-expecting them to bind you physically, yet realizing it's the thoughts swirling in your mind that truly threaten to restrain you. “Why do you say that?”

There’s a soft scoff that makes its way to your ears, registering his disbelief. “You can’t even meet my eyes…are you embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you look at me?” He asks poignantly.

“I’ve never been in this out position before.”

“In control?”

You take a moment to yourself to breathe, dropping your head, still gripping around the rope lethally. “Seokmin.”

“Look at me,” there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’d feel less shameful if you do… what are you thinking?”

You raise your head and meet his eyes, a blend of vulnerability and determination flickering in your gaze. A myriad of words that could have been spoken in response swirl within you, yet each one remains submerged, reluctant to surface and make its presence known. The weight of unspoken sentiments lingers heavily, creating a palpable silence between you.

In the quiet intensity of the moment, his fingertips hand in the charges air, sifting to move between your digits and lock them together. The unspoken tension between you both transforms into something tangible, hanging in the air like a delicate thread, on the verge of snapping. As your eyes linger on one another, a mutual message is exchanged, and without a word, the distance closes.

The kiss is gentle at first, before the heat of his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, softly pulling it towards him. Your lip lock only intensifies as your body presses against his, responding to the desperation that has woven its way through the conversation. The room, once filled with fervency, now holds the soft symphony of a connection finding its place.

As the moment stretches, you muster the strength to finally pull away, cognizant that the power to do so rests solely with you. A gentle reluctance permeates the atmosphere, tinting it with a subdued pink rather than the earlier flickering intensity of red, as you gradually draw back.

Your gazes linger for a fleeting moment, exchanging unspoken promises and silently acknowledging the connection that perhaps shouldn't have been forged. The room retains the echo of the shared intensity, leaving both of you contemplating the significance of what had just transpired.

You release yourself from his touch, the sensation lingering on your skin as your mind wanders, assessing the unfolding actions and the potential consequences. However, despite your attempt at detachment, his words persistently weave through the corridors of your thoughts, rendering any escape from their influence seemingly impossible. “You like being in control?”

You eventually nod.

“Act like it.”

“How?” You question, eyes searching for guidance.

“However you want?”

You seize a fleeting moment, the world around you momentarily suspended, as you deliberate, attempting to release the grip of your inhibitions. The soft murmur of your surroundings becomes a distant echo, drowned out by the internal dialogue that unfolds as you grapple with the decision to unshackle yourself from the mental constraints that have held you captive. It's someone else's job now, not yours. After a thoughtful pause, you finally exhale, uttering a simple but profound, "Okay."

You press yourself against him, your knees locking him at his waist. “Just don’t go whining about it. Or do.” Your hand glides over his restrained wrist, fingering over the vein revealed from his uncuffed sleeve dropping to his forearm, as your other hand claims his face. Initially soft and cool, your touch carries an understated gentleness. Yet, beneath its surface lies a latent warmth that simmers on the skin, gradually intensifying like a path of hellfire. A burgeoning confidence unfolds in you like a delicate bud blossoming into a vibrant bloom. It unfolds gradually but with a definite determination, poised to flourish. “There’s not much else you can do anyway. Isn’t that how you like it?”

"Yes," he confesses, his lungs momentarily devoid of air, the admission hanging in the space like a weighty secret reluctantly released.

The corners of your lips gracefully curl upwards, imparting a subtle but undeniable sense of amusement or satisfaction. “To answer your question earlier, being tied down does still make you manly.” Your hand runs down the length of his arm, settling against the structure of his collarbone, closing the distance between your lips and his honey-glazed skin. "I believe the epitome of true masculinity is found in the act of surrender. It's about willingly placing oneself in a position of trust, embracing vulnerability with unwavering courage."

"Really," he challenges, doubt injecting a sharp edge into his words. "You think that highly of me? Even though you’re the one that can do whatever you want with me?”

“I do.”

You pull apart from him, distancing your bodies and sinking into the bed once you find its edge. You bat your eyes back at him slowly as your hand lands on the top of your chest, releasing a slow and steady breath. “It is simply your form of expression, and in return, I’ll show you mine.”

You fiddle with your buttons, exposing skin bit by bit. Your chest heaves and your legs shift to raise your upper body, anchored by your calves and ankles. Your blouse drops down your shoulders to leave your body, and your cladded breasts are what Seokmin gravitates to first.

Seokmin’s eyes ventured from your lines, the curves once hidden underneath the barrier of your clothes, now in plain sight like art mounted for display. He processes the fullness of your thighs as they drop against your hind legs, and he doesn’t hear the whimper that makes it past his contorted lips.

Hands gripping the sheets, you crawl in prowess towards him wide-eyed until you’re between his legs once again. “Nervous?”

He takes a gulp, his voice tight. “Not in the slightest.”

“Good.” Your fingers move similarly to before, now with your pants which have clung to your body since you’ve worn them.

Seokmin doesn’t for a moment think of a thing as the fabric pulls over your thighs, skin revealing like the first appearance of colored television, nothing short of a visual marvel. He feels gutted, grappling with his restraints. As the sight of you draws near, the longing for your touch bolsters, and an undeniable compulsion surges within him. He barely manages to make out your name in timid haste.

“I’m curious what is like for you to touch my body. How’d you stroke my skin, or caress my legs,” You softly tease, pleased to see the effect you’ve made as he visibly clenched his abdomen. “but I wonder more what it's like for you unable to do a thing as I undress myself.”

"Devastating, truly," he remarks with a chuckle, the irony hanging heavier in the air than any spoken words could convey. “I never thought I’d despise being on the receiving end of a strip tease. Emphasis on tease.”

The pants hit the floor as you shrug them off, “Well, that’s the point of tying you up. You wondered what it was like.” You grinned impishly, “Can’t say you’re disappointed because you didn’t get what you wanted”

“Well, I wouldn’t. Though, I’d appreciate it if—“ Your itching hand grazes the top of his dress shirt, finding the top button and delicately allowing it to come apart. “—if. Ahem. Uh…”

“Yes?”

“I, uh…” he never does finish that sentence, too preoccupied with every button displaced, slowly revealing the tension of his bare torso. He shivers as a brisk draft ripples through his body, his shirt with its open flaps curtaining his taut body, flexing in suspense. “I lost my train of thought…”

You softly chortle as the tip of your nail travels down his concave valleys in interest. “I bet you did.”

Inescapably, you find yourself drawing closer with only a whisper of space between the two of you. Unseen, the sound of Seokmin’s belt unravels, and his eyes widen in shock—catching him off guard. You watch him hauntingly while your hands admire him in a way he’s never even dreamt of.

You roll his erect nipples between your fingers. “Does it excite you? To get doted on? All the attention on you?”

He whimpers quietly, a sigh weakly following. “Yes.”

Your smile lifts up from one end, parting your lips curiously as you tighten your fingers. He winces with short bursts of gasps following and his legs writhe in place while his eyes gloss over in teary awe. “Like when I compliment you? Or when I’m teasing your pretty little parts?”

“Yes. Both.” You wrapped your lips on his bud, the front of your teeth grazing his sensitive skin, and you sucked in your breath. He emits the lightest, airiest of sighs and dips his lower torso into the bed. The rope's friction bit into his skin, undoubtedly causing a burning sensation, only further enticing him.

You softly scoff, leveling your face with him. Your hand glides soothingly over his cheek, cooled by sweat pilling on his forehead, now your inadvertent warmth contrasting against him. “I'm honestly surprised by you, Seokmin. If you wanted me to tie you up, you should’ve just said so. I’d easily comply.”

He nuzzles against your touch, the tip of his nose tracing the crevice of your palm. “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a gentle, welcoming smile. “Don’t be. You’re under my care now.”

“…Am I?”

“Well, are you?”

He moans your name again, longing your hands against his body as you only caress his skin without so much an inkling of moving lower. “Please, that's all I want.”

“What is it you want then?” You grab his chin between your thumb and index. “Tell me everything.”

“Whatever you want to do with me.”

“And if I wanted to just play all evening?” You tested.

He nods back determined. “I’d let you.”

“If I’d sit on your face?”

His breath cuts off in his throat, losing sanity over the potential of your arousal drowning him in bliss. “I’d make sure I’m a proper seat.”

“If I don’t let you cum?”

He clenches his fists, exhaling as you meet your knee with his crotch, where a tent pitched itself right in his trousers. It moves anxiously, already submerging himself in the power of your words. “I’d wait my turn. No matter how long it takes.”

“…And if I want to milk you dry.”

“I’d give you my lifeline…I’m yours.”

In that fleeting moment, the rest of the world dissolves into insignificance. You find yourself yielding to the warmth of his gaze, entranced by the cadence of his language and the resonance of his tone. Finally, you did just what was inevitable.

As Seokmin is bare down to his skin, your hand travels down to the base of his shaft and glides up delicately to his tip. Your lips pressed generously against his collarbone, nipping at his smooth and flustered skin. Your thumb strokes over his veins, grip squeezing his girth, and inadvertently he whines out of his control.

“You’re teasing me…”

“Is that not what you wanted?” Your lips gradually trail down his chest, lowering to hover right over his length that stands mere inches away from your face. “Or are you wanting something more?”

“Of course, I want what you want. I’m s-sorry…”

The tip of his cock kisses against your lips and twitches upon contact. You feign innocence in his gaze and purse your lips. “I can’t help but think, you want me to wrap my lips around your cock. Stuff down my throat. Spill your hot cum inside me.”

“Please,” he moans.

You slot him between your lips and suck on his sensitivity. You hum his name, every syllable vibrating around his skin. He groans observing you, nearly thrusting into your mouth before you decide to slam down his thighs. “Mmh-Mhh, you know better than to do that.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeatedly mumbles, “You’re just so pretty there.”

“Though that may be, you chose to trust me, and now I need to trust you. Behave.”

He swallows apprehensively. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll apprehend you if you don't. I have more than one set of ropes.”

Seokmin’s heart slightly twitches at that, but he decides to obey for now, hoping there’s another opportunity another day. He wouldn’t want to test his limits.

His cock has made its way between your lips once again, exploring deeper until you meet halfway down his length. With your free hand, you tend to his remaining size, feeling it pulse in your touch. His groans become the background music for his symphony of arousal, while the sensation of your hallowed cheeks tug against him.

You allow him to plunge deeper, wide eyes peering at him for his reaction, and you feel the impulsive thrust of his hips again. Only this time, you let him. You feel every inch consume you, lodged far down your airways, traveling at a needy–even desperate–pace. You shut your eyes, feeling your tears burn your skin. Ultimately, you pull out before he gets close, registering his pink cheeks and bite-swollen lips after regaining your sight. You cough away from him, catching your breath and the apology leaving Seokmin’s lips once again.

“I’m so sorry! Fuck! I–”

“I said I’d apprehend you, didn't I?”

You make good on your promise and another pair of ropes makes an appearance, pinning him at either corners of the bed and splaying him like a starfish, rendering him completely defenseless.

He deserves this, he thought, unable to resist the inexplicable thrill that coursed through him. He’d struggle against the rope had it not been for the remainder of your strip show. The slow slip of your bra strap, the release of your clasp, baring you raw in your gorgeous glory. If he had his fists, he’d be biting them. Hell, if he had any control of his limbs, he’d worship you on the very floor you walk on, crushed under you the ball of your feet, and using his hands for your pleasure and your pleasure only.

Perhaps that’s why he could not help but be more aroused like a teenager discovering porn for the first time. That was the beauty of it. It was something Ami never understood. She wanted him to do it all: be the dominant partner all the time, be a one-and-done fucking machine. You are willing to explore things, even with him, and you didng make him feel small about it. He can’t help but feel eternally grateful it's with him.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he had already fallen for you the moment his eyes laid on your photos. He couldn’t believe the sight you were nor the fact that you were on the receiving end of this distress. He knew he had to meet you. He just hadn’t factor in what it’d do to him when it happens.

Even as your legs border either of his side, he’s in disbelief. Your pretty cunt stares back at him in want, aching for his presence just as he aches to explore you. He can feel the drool make it past the corner of his lips as your heat radiates off you, just before letting his raw length part your walls.

A hearty moan escapes you, and all Seokmin can think of how sweet it sounds in company with the moisture of your arousal. Your knees dig into the mattress as you adjust to his size, hips naturally grinding against him before he fully is plunged inside. Drinking in his groans, you slightly fall forward and find your grip on the bedframe, not realizing how easy it is to claim Seokmin’s hands.

A smile tugs at your lips as you delicately weave your fingers through his. You rest your forehead against his, softly cooing back at him. “You’re being so good for me.”

“Anything for you," he responds, his voice filled with a tender, intimate sincerity.

“Mmh, Seokmin...”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you like the control of your hands again?”

His eyes flicker back at you, seeing the certainty in your eyes, before hesitatingly nodding. Carefully, you release him, gently soothing the red marks on either wrist. Pleadingly, he asks for your permission to touch you, and easily you oblige, taking his hands. You guide him where he may touch, letting them stroke up your sides. You softly sigh as you let him regain his power, letting it surge through him as he replenishes feeling in his arms.

He balls your flesh in fists, pushing deeper inside you as his tongue grows more possessive. You clench around him, hands accessing his body like free real estate, playing with all the amenities. “Are you that happy? Touching me like I’m yours?”

He throws his head back, assessing his grip on you to pull you forward, giving you a long awaited liplock. He rediscovers your plush tongue, retracing its pattern as he pushes you closer against him to the best of his abilities with his contradicted ankles. He claims you from your lower back, rolling his hips against you, as your furnace-hot body intoxicates him like a drug. “I’m elated. You make me so happy. You have no idea.”

Your exuberant sounds fold over one another, building the tension off your bodies until you’ve reach their highest form. Seokmin was the first to express it. Even before he mumbles how close he is, he’s embracing you tighter as his hot breath fans down your flustered body. To that, you say the first response that comes to mind. “Cum in me.”

“W-without a—“

You tense tighter around him, legs clutching around him desperately. “Cum inside me, Seokmin.”

You get what you want in the end. The streams of white warmth painting your inside are perfection. Like bursts of ribbons in a festive air, he releases a lingering sense of ecstasy. Falling against his chest, you count his pants by the heave of his chest, drifting off from fatigue.

With the bit of energy you had left, you undo Seokmin’s knots, and rest comes easy, no matter how early into the night it still is.

You don’t remember the last time you were held like this. You don’t know if you were held ever like this. His eyes, though weary, radiate a smile that mirrors the gentle curve of his lips. A hand slides behind your head, fingers gently stroking, and his soft sighs become a melodic comfort, conveying solace without the need for words. In his presence, a profound sense of peace envelops you, creating a reluctance to part from this moment of tranquility.

Dinner, once a fleeting moment before the spontaneous decision of sex, turns into a midnight meal, a meal draped in each other comfort. Seokmin effortlessly slips into your comforting pair of sweatpants, while you envelop yourself in his once-abandoned dress shirt, a tangible reminder of the intimacy shared. Together, you concoct a pot of instant ramen, opting for the simplicity of a quick meal rather than the meticulousness of a dish crafted from scratch.

“That smells delicious,” he compliments.

“Sorry, it couldn’t be better.”

His hands find a secure hold on your body, his head gently resting over your shoulder. "It's no bother at all. Plus, you've already worked up quite an appetite."

His kisses, soft against your temple, coincide with the casual embrace of his arms around your waist. Your curves seamlessly mold into the contours of his body, like two pieces naturally falling into place, creating a comforting bond between your bodies.

“Stil, you deserve better than ramen.”

“It’s Shin ramen. It's the best of its kind. I’m more than honored.”

“You’re silly…I like that.”

“Good. I like you. I’m glad that I got to meet you.” His words are accompanied by a gentle squeeze of your hand.

You grin. “Me too…but we can’t do that again.”

“Oh, well why not?”

"Well, for now." You playfully tap his nose with a chopstick. "Let's wait until everything is done. Until we’re both free again.”

He sighs, dejected at your request. “You’re right, but…”

He effortlessly lifts you from the ground and you drop your utensils on the ground. Abruptly, he settles you onto the kitchen counter. The coolness from the marble is chilling as the surface provides a sudden, invigorating contrast to your warm skin. Startled, your eyes flutter back at him, steadying yourself with hands resting on his shoulders. You succumb to the warmth in his eyes, a honeyed allure that wraps you in the comforting embrace of his touch.

“How do you expect me to live on without you in my arms? I’ll never know peace like it.” Seokmin's voice carries a warmth that wraps around you like a blanket, one that is not weighted with darkness and anxiety, but instead laden with love and good faith.

You respond by pulling him into a tight embrace, legs playfully anchoring around his torso. A smile graces your lips as you enjoy the closeness. “A test of faith. Then we can truly enjoy each other's company.”

“I’ll be counting the days then,” he says with a smile

You persist in meeting Seokmin, navigating the divorce process until you're on the verge of its completion. Ironically, amidst the dissolution's purpose, you sense the blossoming of a new connection amid the ruins of another.

“You didn’t have to take me home. You know how risky it is.”

He sighs, squeezing your hand in his, dreading the moment you have to leave. He has grown accustomed to your presence, and every night without you feels like a painful void in his heart, as he awaits the arrival of the following morning. "I can't wait until this is all over."

“Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after and the day after—“

“Lord knows how we get any work done,” he giggles.

"I know, right." You let the moment linger a second longer before sharing a final embrace, stealing a kiss on his cheek as you slip away from his grasp. Through the tinted windows, you smile, aware of the blush you've ignited on his face.

Arriving home, the joy is dampened by the sight of familiar shoes. Suppressing your unease, you greet your husband with a forced smile, avoiding eye contact. "Mingyu? Honey? Is that you? No overtime tonight?

You're met with a stern expression and a decisive declaration. Devoid of warmth, he slams a stack of papers onto the kitchen counter–documents that have become all too familiar over these past few weeks.

“I want a divorce.”

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