#now he is not so bad. he is like an old friend who used to bully me as a child but now we are friendly acquaintances :D
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smileysuh · 2 days ago
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princess & kingpin
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🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Donghyuck might have a reputation to uphold in the darker world he inhabits with his family, but with you, this is Hyuck, the rascal ward who’d stolen your heart when you were children. Right now, he’s not a future Kingpin, nor are you a Princess. Instead, you’re man and wife, and you intend to reap the new benefits these connected titles give you.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, arranged marriage, virgin!reader, thick dick!Donghyuck, first-time sex, wedding night sex, body worship, wedding garter, fingering, pussy eating, lots of foreplay, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, good first-time communication, lots of kissing, gentle/hand holding sex, talks of ‘consummation/duty’, Hyuck uses a knife to cut open her intricate laced wedding gown, etc… I pet names: (hers) Princess.  
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.7k
🍭 aus.  Modern royal au, mafia au, childhood friends to lovers, strategically arranged marriage, princess! y/n, future kingpin!Haechan
☀️ mlist + an. i had a field day with the au selection for this one haha
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Prologue:
There was never any doubt when Donghyuck was born, that he was his father’s son. He’d come out of the womb punching, and despite his mother being a mistress, the renowned weapons dealer had claimed Donghyuck as his own, as he’d claimed other illegitimate would-be heirs. 
The blood of the mother was redundant in Donghyuck’s father’s eyes, all that mattered, was that he was a Lee. This mentality had stayed with Donghyuck in his early childhood, growing up amongst other half-siblings. Mark, for example, was slightly older, and although he had more of his mother’s gentle temperament, he knew how to live up to his name when it mattered. Jeno, in contrast, was very much another mini-me to their father, very bold, very aggressive. 
When Donghyuck was ten, something happened that would change the entire course of his life. 
Having lived in a corrupt monarchy for the entirety of his existence, and having a father who was somewhat of a Kingpin in the shady world of weapons, Donghyuck grew to have a disdain for the King, who was always meddling, always making choices that had negative effects on his people.
The Lees weren’t the only clan who hated the King, in fact, the head royal’s choices were so bad, that he gained the moniker ‘The Mad King.’ His own family had turned against him, and when he would not willingly relinquish his power it was decided that for the first time in a very long time, an internal assassination would be the best choice for the entire realm.
When Donghyck was ten, his eldest half-brother, Lee Taeyong, assassinated The Mad King, thus making way for the thrown to be usurped by the King’s own younger brother, a younger brother who now had ties, and a debt to settle, with Donghyuck’s family.
The first year after The Mad King’s death saw more reform for the better than perhaps ever in the history of the kingdom. There were some who were unhappy with a militia-style arms dealer family injecting themselves into the court through a blood favor, but others understood that sometimes, this type of brute force is necessary for positive change. Besides, the new King understood, as the King before him had not, that having the raw power of the Lees backing him up would be the safest choice of all.
At eleven, Donghyuck was sent to the castle to be a ward for the royal family. He would spend six months of the year learning the ins and outs of the court. This was the first time Donghyuck had felt like a half-son, like the birth of his mother had reflected negatively on him. He didn’t want to be in the libraries studying, or learning how to make diplomatic concessions- that wasn’t who he was. Lee Donghyuck was not a royal, and in the mind of his eleven-year-old self, he never would be.
Donghyuck would spend seven years in between the castle and his family home, feeling torn, feeling less than his half-brothers, who were gaining the benefit of a full-time life with his father. There were a few bright moments with the royals, bright moments when he’d first met you, the Princess. The two of you became fast friends, both sharing a common feeling of dissatisfaction with your fathers’ treatment, both feeling like being the youngest in a large clan had its downsides.
At eighteen, Donghyuck was no longer forced to be a ward. He was a full member of the Lee’s now, and he’d spent all his time in the castle working to be the best asset to his father that he could be, desperately wanting to prove to his father that he could be the best of all his sons, maybe even better than Taeyong, who had been the tool used to secure their spot as royal-adjacents. 
It wasn’t until Donghyuck was twenty that he learned the truth of why he had been the one chosen to go to the castle. He, out of all his siblings, of age, and of sharp mind, was determined to be the most useful plant within the marble walls of royalty.
After he’d found out how his father truly saw him, Donghyuck became a fully unstoppable force, and he never looked back.
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One:
“It’s been a long time,” the old advisor to the King says as he takes a seat, staring at Donghyuck from behind his large office desk. 
“It has,” Donghyuck agrees, eying all the official papers that still scatter Seunghyun’s space. 
“I received the letter from your father,” the advisor continues, reaching for the document in question to hold it up. “I suppose I always knew this day was coming, especially after what your family did for our King.”
Donghyuck nods. It would seem to him that the notion of an arranged marriage had likely always been in his father’s back pocket, but of course, when Donghyuck was younger, he hadn’t realized he would be the intended Lee to join the royal family. Now, as a man, the entire play makes sense. He’s not a complete stranger to the princesses, nor is he unfamiliar with the court and the way the royals conduct themselves.
No, Donghyuck was purposefully sent here by his father to infiltrate, to make the exact move that he’s attempting to make right now. 
Lee Donghyuck will marry into the royal family, forever securing an unbreakable bond between them, and it is this mission, that Donghyuck has unknowingly spent over ten years trying to achieve. 
“I have discussed this letter with the King,” Seunghyun continues, “and we assume there is no guess as to whom you would like as your bride.”
“No guess,” Donghyuck responds with a chuckle, looking down at the Lee family ring on his pinky. 
“You always did have a connection with the youngest princess. If it would be amenable to your father… If he has no other specifications as to which Princess you are to be wedded to, the King agrees that you and Princess y/n can be wed within a week’s time.”
Donghyuck can’t help the way his heart thumps in his chest. His father had made him aware of this royally arranged marriage a month ago, but he’s still not quite used to the idea that you’ll be his wife.
He’d always had an attraction to you, an attraction to your body, mind, and spirit- but as a teenager, he’d done his best to push those thoughts aside. He’d been acutely aware that your differing situations in life would most likely keep you from ever being in a union- 
In some ways, Donghyuck feels like he’s entered a very good dream, but there are some anxieties that come with it. After all, he hasn’t seen you in years… what if your opinion of him has changed?
“That timeline works for the Lee clan,” Donghyuck says smoothly, “as does the Princess in question.”
It’s funny how easily Donghyuck slips back into the diction of the castle, the ‘proper’ way of speaking. it’s been years since he’s been here, but in some odd way, it’s as if he never left.
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Two:
“The two of you always had a connection,” your older sister Jenni concedes as you sit in front of your vanity, an artist working on your makeup. “But you haven't seen him in years.”
“He can’t have changed that much, right?” you ask, looking between your siblings.
Hwasa exchanges a glance with Jenni. As the second oldest, Hwasa is married already, however, in contrast to your arranged match, she’d been wed to a Prince and is now next in line for a throne half a continent away.
“Certain qualities are bound to stay the same,” Hwasa says diplomatically. “However… I have heard about his more recent reputation.”
You’ve all heard about it. Once upon a time, Taeyong had been the prodigal son of the Lee clan, he’d even overthrown a whole kingdom for the chance to strengthen family ties, but in recent years, the story goes that the eldest Lee boy had become timid, less so like his father. Donghyuck, in contrast, has supposedly risen in the ranks, working all the way up to somewhat of a right-hand man figure, despite him being one of the younger members of the halfling brood. 
“He’ll still be the same boy who wanted to skip lessons to play in the park,” you insist. “The same boy who got high marks without studying.”
“Intellect is an attractive trait,” Hwasa concedes, “however, I seem to remember his reckless disdain for rules got you in trouble a number of times as well.”
“She was always following him into bad situations,” Jenni agrees with a laugh. “It was charming when they were young. A twelve-year-old kingpin’s son, corrupting a princess to go on ‘dangerous’ quests, playing pretend in the castle park.” 
“I guess neither of us thought we’d ever be very important to our families,” you sigh. “I’m the youngest daughter. Sure, I was expected to marry well, but I think we all knew I’d never be more than a princess. I’m no Queen.”
“Maybe not one in name,” Hwasa says, cocking her head to the side as she plays with your veil. “But someone has to run the Lee empire when the kingpin dies, and many sources are pointing toward Donghyuck as being the next in line. Securing you as a match would definitely add some… legitimacy, considering the fact that he’s a half-blood.”
“His father’s wife never bore children,” you point out, feeling defensive. “It made sense for him to have mistresses, children born out of wedlock. He kept his wife, whom he loved, but still needed a line to inherit his work. It’s an arrangement they had.”
“I’ve heard conflicting reports on whether Mrs. Lee was very agreeable to the situation, having a host of children calling your husband father while she herself was not a birth mother,” Hwasa sighs.
“I don’t want to hear about this anymore,” you declare. “I’m getting married today, and these politics and talks of family lines and legitimacy are dampening my mood.”
Your sisters exchange one last look, but then they bow their heads to you, a sign of submission.
You know they’re just protective, that they’re not the only ones dissecting the arrangement with your fiance. 
Having spent your life in a castle, you’re used to gossip. The only person who never truly cared about what others thought was Donghyuck, and you’re eager for the strength he provided you when you were young.
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Three:
Donghyuck can hardly breathe when the church doors open and you begin to walk through. Your veil obscures your face, your chin dipped down to pay attention to the floor as your father slowly escorts you up the aisle. Even without being able to fully see you, Donghyuck can tell you’ve only grown more beautiful in the years since he’s seen you, and his heart begins to thump wildly in his chest.
Jeno and Mark are his groomsmen, and he can feel them shifting behind him, clearly reacting to your beauty, as everyone in the House of God is. 
Things seem to move incredibly slowly, and also incredibly fast. The King is handing you off to Donghyuck, and he’s taking you by the hand, marveling at the scar on your palm that you’d gotten from slipping on a rock when you were both fifteen. God, the castle physician had had a field day with Hyuck when that happened-
He can feel your eyes on him, and soon, he’s lifting your veil to see your face.
Donghyuck can feel the smile that appears on his lips, and you shyly beam back, downcasting your gaze. The Lee can hardly hear the minister as he goes through a useless traditional ceremony, it’s all business after all.
The only things that matter are the ‘I do’s’ and the kiss, and when that happens, Donghyuck is fully present. He wets his lips, squeezing your hand gently. You give him a small nod, a wordless show that it’s okay, that he can move forward and solidify the future you’ll now have together, the future that, in some ways, was always meant to be. 
He wants to be gentle with you, cupping your face and watching you intently as you both move in. At the last moment, your eyes flutter closed, and he mirrors the action, pressing his lips to yours.
It’s the most chaste kiss Donghyuck’s ever had, but at the same time, nothing in the world has ever excited him more.
You taste like mandarine oranges and springtime, and a familiar feeling that has been buried for years begins to bubble up in the young man’s chest like the blossoming of a cherry tree. You’re his future, and he can feel it in his very soul.
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Four:
You’ve felt as if things had progressed quite naturally at the wedding and reception, but now, going with Donghyuck to his home and finally getting some alone time- well, you’re beginning to feel twinges of anxiety.
This man, who you’d known years ago, has grown up. His hair is a little longer, and his hands bear the marks of an everlasting fighter’s soul, but despite these changes, his smile is still the same, as is the soft way he gazes at you.
“How are you feeling?” Donghyuck asks, walking around his large master bedroom to retrieve some water for you.
“I’m alright, and you?” 
“Never been better,” your husband grins, handing you a cup and sitting across from you in the small seating area of his room by the fire. “Were you surprised by this whole arrangement thing?”
You cock your head to the side, considering the question. “Yes, and no. I hadn’t expected a marriage connection between our families, but once I was made aware of it, it felt like I was stupid for never seeing the intention before. And when I found out it would be you marrying someone from my family, I knew you would choose me.”
“We always got along.”
“We did more than get along,” you laugh, feeling your skin flush. You take a sip of water to steady yourself. “I’d always had a crush on you, Donghyuck, following you around like a lost puppy-”
“You never felt like a lost puppy to me. You were just my best friend six months of the year.”
You can’t help but smile. “Best friend,” you repeat, releasing a sad breath. “I was upset when you turned eighteen and stopped coming. I never heard from you.”
“Life got busy,” Donghyuck frowns. 
“I’ve heard,” you nod.
You can feel him studying you, and he leans forward. “I’m sorry. I should have contacted you.”
“It’s alright,” you wave your hand. “We’re here now.”
“We are,” he agrees. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve been thinking about you.”
“You have?”
“I uh…” He rubs the back of his neck shyly, “I always had a crush on you too, but I figured it would never work out, so…”
“It’s funny how life has a way of bringing people together again,” you muse. “As if our fates were always set in stone, always meant to be…” you search for the right word, and it comes to you both in unison: “aligned.” 
You both laugh, looking down, and it’s as if you’re shy teenagers again, teasing with the idea of a forbidden romance that has now come to fruition, with the full backing of both of your families.
“You look very beautiful,” Donghyuck muses, eyes raking over your wedding dress.
“I thought you might like this one,” you smile, also looking down at yourself. “I remember you used to like the bows I’d wear in my hair, always tugging on them-”
“So you wrapped yourself up like a pretty present for me,” Donghyuck deduces. “How very generous of you, Princess.”
A giddy tingle erupts up your spine. While everyone calls you Princess - as it is your title - it feels different coming from Donghyuck’s lips, and it always has.
“It’s our wedding night…” you point out, “I wanted to gift you something, give you something to unwrap.”
Donghyuck swallows thickly, a motion you don’t miss. “Princess… you’ve gotten… bold since we last met.”
“You’re my husband, can’t I be bold with you, Hyuck?”
He takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to be… I mean, I’m willing to give you time-”
“Consummation is a time-honored tradition,” you point out, only half teasing. “It’s our wedding night, and I’m not the only person with expectations.”
“I doubt your family expects me to give you an heir, Hwasa and your eldest brother have more than delivered in that area,” Donghyuck laughs. “But I see your point.”
“Do you?” You set your water down, standing. Turning your back to Donghyuck, you approach the large bed before looking over your shoulder at him. He’s taking in the bows that make the length of your corsetted back, and you can see his mind working to figure out how he’s going to undo everything in a timely manner. “Come, husband, unwrap your wedding present.”
You’ve been dreaming about this night all week- in fact, you’ve been fantasizing about this since you were sixteen. 
Donghyuck might have a reputation to uphold in the darker world he inhabits with his family, but with you, this is Hyuck, the rascal ward who’d stolen your heart when you were children. Right now, he’s not a future Kingpin, nor are you a Princess. Instead, you’re man and wife, and you intend to reap the new benefits these connected titles give you.
You can sense Donghyuck hesitate as he approaches you, coming to a stop just at your back. His hands gently smooth up your arms, and he leans forward to press his lips to your shoulder. “Are you sure about this?” he asks.
“I’ve never been more sure,” you respond, arching your neck to look back at him. 
Donghyuck reaches up to pinch your chin, and then he kisses you.
It’s a soft kiss like you’d shared at the alter just hours ago, but you have no need to put on a chaste show for royals, there’s no one currently in attendance at this special moment. It’s just you and him, and you’re quick to turn things deeper, releasing a small moan of pleasure as you turn in his arms, threading your fingers through his silky hair.
He grabs your waist, but as you kiss, you can feel his palm smoothing to the small of your back. He begins to pluck loose all the intricate bows, not missing a beat as he does so.
You tug at his suit and Donghuck concedes to you just long enough to get his jacket off before he returns to his task. The kiss is turning heated very quickly, and your skin is tingling with excitement, your heart racing like a wild bird in your rib cage.
Donghyuck begins to kiss down to your throat, licking and sucking on the skin while you gasp and whimper. He’s all-consuming, and you don’t know where to focus as he worships you while simultaneously undoing the bows on the back of your dress. 
His lips ghost by the swell of your breasts, pushed up by the corsetted structure in your wedding gown. God, it feels amazing, and you throw your head back, panting deeply.
“Being so good for me, Princess,” Donghyuck muses, his lips trailing back up your throat. He pulls away, looking down at you. “I want you to know- you can change your mind at any time and I won’t hold it against you-”
“Hyuck,” you groan. “Can you just let me want you?” You bunch your hands up in his suit. “Can you accept that I need you? That I’m not being forced, or coerced- that this ‘arranged’ marriage isn’t even really that ‘arranged’ because, for me, it’s always been you?” 
He’s staring at you in shock, and you decide to take matters into your own hands. You muster up all your strength and push him onto the bed before confidently mounting him. You gather up the poofy skirts of your dress, getting comfortable so you can grind down on him despite all the fabric in the way.
“I didn’t expect this,” Donghyuck admits, swallowing thickly.
“Get used to it,” you fire back, leaning down to cup his face, pressing your lips against his with a newfound passion.
He quickly gets to work on the back of your dress again, and now you’re both moaning at the feeling of you grinding down on top of him. 
Something hard is pressing up against your core, and the knowledge that he’s already hard has you feeling feverish in the best possible way. He wants you the way you want him, and you’re starting to regret wearing such an intricate dress.
“Fuck this,” Hyuck groans, pushing you off of him and onto the bed. He grabs you next, flipping you onto your stomach. When you look over your shoulder, you realize he’s produced a knife - had he been hiding that in a clip on the back of his pants this whole time?
With one rough stroke, he cuts through all the ribbons and the lace along the back of your dress, ruining it in an effort to get to you quickly.
“I never had much patience for presents or keeping wrapping paper intact,” Donghyuck muses, leaning over to set his knife on the bedside table. “Let's get you out of this fucking gown.”
He flips you again, and you release a giggle at the manhandling, loving this new side of your husband. He’s clearly insatiable, and it sets your entire body on fire as he grips your dress and practically tears it from your form. 
You’re in undergarments, and unlike your dress, there hadn't been any royal and historical specifications about the details, so the thong and garter are very much a contrast to the now-destroyed gown that’s been tossed aside. 
The corset on the dress has been enough to not merit a bra of any sort, so now, looking up at Donghyuck, you’re already half naked, and it’s clear that he’s taken aback from the view.
He stops, just staring at you, his lips parted in disbelief. 
“Wow,” he breathes.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes, Princess.” He swallows thickly, gaze finally dipping to take in your thong and the wedding garter on your thigh. “This is pretty.” Donghyuck grabs at the lacey strap, pulling it away from your skin to let it gently snap back.
“It’s not the most traditional thing in the world for royals to wear one, but I thought you might enjoy it,” you muse.
“What do I do with it?”
“I was thinking… you could take it off with your teeth.”
“My teeth?” Donghyuck looks up at you with surprise.
“Your teeth,” you confirm, “but… maybe also take your shirt off first.”
“Is this tradition?” your husband asks as he begins to unbutton his top.
“Not entirely,” you giggle, enjoying the look of his tanned skin as more and more of it is revealed.
When you’d known Donghyuck before, he’d always been a little scrawny, but in his years away, he’s built muscle, and the sight of it is making you drool.
There are a few scars that litter his skin as well, scars that likely have stories you’ll have to ask about later, but right now, your focus is of a more primal nature.
Donghyuck shrugs his shirt to the floor, then he gets down on the bed between your legs. He starts peppering your calf in kisses, slowly ascending to your knee, then your thigh.
The feeling of his breath makes you groan and he looks up at you with dark eyes. 
“Keep going,” you urge, grabbing at the bed sheets. 
His teeth tease along the flimsy garter, and once he has an acceptable grip, he begins to tug it down your leg. Donghyuck moves slowly, toying with you and building the suspense. 
You can feel your pussy beginning to throb with need already, and when the garter is discarded, Donghyuck’s lips take the same path up your leg again, but this time, he doesn’t stop where the material had just been.
He continues until his breath is fanning across your covered core, and it makes you whine, gripping the sheets tighter.
“Can I take these off too?” Donghyuck asks, voice low as one of his fingers teases the waistband of your thong.
“Please,” you whimper, lifting your hips a little to help him remove the only piece of clothing still standing between your husband and what you both want most.
Your panties are gone in a flash, and then two hands are snaking under your thighs, adjusting your core. Donghyuck licks his lips, looking up at you. 
You expect him to say something, but he doesn’t, instead, he dives in, licking your pussy and sucking your clit into his mouth while you release a strangled cry. One of your hands flies down to tangle in his hair, and Donghyuck groans deeply, sending a vibration through your core that lights up your entire form.
As a Princess, your virtue has always been protected. You’re a virgin, and while you know about sex, you’ve never known what it is to experience it with another.
Nothing could have prepared you for this, for the way your entire body tingles with pleasure so all-consuming that you can’t help but moan desperately. 
Donghyuck eats you like he’s been a man starved, unashamed to be a little messy. 
There’s something sinful about it, but something that also feels so right- so correct.
Donghyuck adjusts slightly, and you feel a finger begin to gently circle your wet hole. He pushes just the tip in and you mewl from the sensation. Your husband takes your sound as an affirmation to continue, so he presses further inside of you, still moving slowly and gently to allow your body to adjust to the foreign intrusion.
You love how he’s taking his time with you, listening to your body and your cues.
It seems clear that he’s aware this is your first time with a man, and he’s not in some eager, self-gratifying rush to get to the part where he’s the one feeling good. 
Soon he has a whole finger inside of you while he continues to suck on your clit, and he pumps the digit slowly, working you open in the most delightful way.
“Can I add another?” he asks, gently kissing your sensitive bud as he looks up at you.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” you nod, swallowing thickly.
Donghyuck returns to his task, licking at your clit to distract you from the stretch that comes with two fingers now slowly working into you.
He adjusts his hand again, crooking the digits up to hit a sweet spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.
“Oh my God-” you whimper, clutching at the sheets again.
“Feels good?” he asks.
“Feels amazing,” you confirm, eyes shut as you can enjoy the pleasure that’s coursing through you.
Donghyuck applies more pressure to the sweet spot inside of you, thrusting in an almost rhythmic fashion as he sucks harder on your clit. 
You’re all consumed by the throbbing ecstasy that’s bubbling out from your core and into the entirety of your body. 
“Do you think you might cum for me soon, Princess?” Donghyuck asks.
“I… I think so,” you nod, swallowing thickly.
“Take your time,” he assures you, “when the feeling hits, just let go for me.” 
He continues to worship your pussy, licking and sucking and stroking and fingering- your toes begin to curl from the pleasure, and the feeling is building quickly in your abdomen. 
You’re gasping now, panting and moaning, clutching at the bed desperately. “Hyuck-” you whimper.
He responds by sucking your clit even harder and your thighs move to close around him, but your husband pushes them open with his free hand. He finger fucks you even harder, and before you know it, the tension in your stomach is snapping.
A wave of euphoria unlike anything you’ve ever felt washes over you like a warm summer rain. You gasp loudly, pleasure throbbing out from your core and engulfing you.
Donghyuck doesn’t stop, he works you through it, ignoring the way your thighs are shaking around him, the way you’re clawing at the bed and crying out.
“Hyuck!” you whimper, finally unable to take any more of the pleasure-
Your husband pulls away from your core, and you hear him lick his lips, but you’re too exhausted to open your eyes.
He pulls away from your core. “You look good like this, Princess.” 
You don’t even have the words to respond, chest heaving, heart racing-
The bed dips as he lays down next to you, and you feel him push some hair away from your face. His lips brush your cheek, his hand moving down to your breast, where he begins to massage your flesh.
“That might be enough for tonight,” he muses softly.
“What?” Your eyes snap open.
“You look pretty tired.”
“Hyuck,” you take a deep breath, “I… I need you to fuck me.”
He stares at you in shock. “I’ve never heard that word come from your mouth before, Princess, this must be pretty serious.”
“It is,” you insist, cupping his cheek. “Please.” 
“If that’s what my Princess wants,” Donghyuck concedes with a grin. “I’ll go slowly, I promise.”
He gets up again, and you watch him take off his pants.
You’ve never seen a cock in real life before, and the way his springs up makes your mouth water.
He’s thick, and a decent size too, or so you assume. You lick your lips in anticipation as he gets back onto the bed with you.
He moves between your thighs, and your legs wrap around him instinctively, your hand cupping his cheek again.
You draw your lips to his as he begins to gently rut, his cock gliding between your soaked pussy lips with easy, teasing by your clit, but not entering you.
It’s as if he’s toying with you, and your patience runs thin very fast. “Please,” you whimper again.
“You got it, Princess.”
He grabs the base of his cock, adjusting so his tip can fully tease your hole now. He pushes in slightly and you grab his shoulders, squeezing and making him stop.
You can feel him watching your facial expressions as you get used to the largest intrusion you’ve ever had inside of you. 
“Just breathe,” he tells you, bringing his lips to your throat in an effort to soothe.
“Okay,” you nod, “okay, deeper.”
He follows your instructions, gently pushing in another inch only to pause and wait for your affirmation to continue.
This continues for a few minutes, Donghyuck diligently taking his time and allowing you to acclimatize to his cock until he’s fully sheathed in your wet and throbbing core. 
“Okay, okay,” you nod, breathing heavily. “You can move now.”
Donghyuck cups your cheek, kissing you softly as he begins to gently rock back and forth. Your pussy walls are getting used to the sensation, and the slick from your orgasm makes things very smooth as he gradually increases the intensity.
You begin to moan from the feeling of him, clawing at his shoulders again, kissing him desperately as he makes love to you in your wedding bed.
One of Donghyuck’s hands moves down to your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Suddenly he’s hitting a deep spot inside of you, making you cry out as your toes curl with pleasure.
“Good?” he asks, pressing kisses along your throat.
“Good,” you confirm, whimpering desperately.
“You’re so tight,” Donghyuck groans.
“Maybe you’re just big,” you counter, stifling a giggle.
It’s shocking how natural this feels- there’s no awkwardness with Donghyuck, after all, you might be newlyweds from an arranged marriage, but you’ve been friends for most of your lives. You couldn’t imagine a better man to be with, a better man to be taking care of you for your first time.
“Princess,” Donghyuck moans, “I… I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”
“How… how long do men usually last?” you ask.
Donghyuck chuckles. “It all depends, but- eating you out got me pretty worked up, and now your pussy is gripping me so fucking well-”
God, his words are sinful to a Princess like you, but they’re sinful in the best possible way, making your pussy flutter with pleasure.
You’re making this man come undone, as he’d made you cum, and that knowledge makes pride burn through you.
“Don’t try to last,” you tell him, cupping his face. “Let go.”
Donghyck stares at you for a moment before smashing his lips to yours. He grabs one of your hands and intertwines your fingers, pressing it to the pillow to use as leverage as he begins to fuck you even harder.
The whole bed is rocking by now, each powerful thrust making you mewl and whimper.
“Fuck, fuck-” Donghyuck groans, burying his face against your throat again. “Shit, I’m gonna cum-” 
You hold him tightly, stroking his hair as his thrusts falter, a deep moan escaping his lips.
You can feel the unfamiliar sensation of something filling up your core, and you wrap your legs tighter around his hips, keeping him locked inside of you as he fills you with his release.
He’s groaning and gasping in your ear and it’s one of the most erotic sounds you’ve ever heard.
You can sense when he’s come down from his high, but you continue to hold him, your chests pressed together, racing hearts beating as one.
This man is your husband, and you know he’ll take care of you. It’s a different life path laid out before you than you’d perhaps imagined when you were younger, but you know that as long as you’re with Lee Donghyuck, everything will be just fine.
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Short but sweet this month, longer things to come for nct in February :)
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🔮 preview. In the five years you’ve been married to Donghyuck, he’s helped you come out of your sexually repressed shell. You’ve even tried things with him that you never even thought you’d be interested in. While Donghyuck can be soft and gentle for you, as he was on your wedding night, he’s still a Lee, and that factor comes with its fair share of darker tastes.
cw/ tw. cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, squirting, bondage, use of toys (vibrator), impreg/breeding kink, multiple positions, dirty talk, praise, fingering, breast worship, body worship, etc…   I petnames. (hers) princess
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 120
🌙 starring. Haechan x afab!Reader
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bonus
“Happy anniversary,” Jeno grins as he shows up at your compound, with Mark in tow. 
“Thank you,” you smile, welcoming them into the house.
Jeno is the favorite uncle of your two children, and it’s clear that he feels his congratulatory diligence is done, as he rushes past you to pick up your son and daughter, one for each arm. Mark, in contrast, bears some of the manners that you were used to much of your life, and he steps into your home. “Did you have a nice day?” he asks.
“A lovely family day,” you nod, stepping closer to Mark and lowering your voice, “but between us, I think Hyuck and I are both ready for some alone time.”
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eddiesvixen · 20 hours ago
Text
Parental Guidance
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𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗘𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘃 (𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁), 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 (𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴) MDNI 18+, 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲 (𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁!𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟱.𝟲𝗸
the fourth chapter of Open Til Midnight
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Every day you scream at me to turn the music low
Well if you keep on screaming, you'll make me deaf you know
You always chew me out because I stay out late
Until your three-piece suit-
Once you hear Eddie’s voice crack you stop strumming the chord he’d asked you to play.
Eddie sighs. “This isn’t working.”
“Come on. It was one crack Eddie and it doesn’t have to be perfect.”
“Does if we wanna earn enough cash tonight.” He flops onto the sofa next to you.
It is a lot of pressure. Eddie called up the boys Tuesday night after dropping you off at home from your date and Wednesday they rehearsed all day to prepare for today.
Corroded Coffin Live at Empire Records, 6-8pm
Live music, 15% off all cds, $7 admission.
Not bad, right?
“We’ll make enough, Eddie. Corroded Coffin’s got some great originals, this is just to fill in for extra time, okay? Nothing wrong with a few covers.”
“I know,” he sighs, knee bouncing a bit as he runs his hand through his messy curls. “It’s just a lot. I perform for fun. For the music, for the energy behind it. Kinda feels like im using my band for charity tonight. And it doesn’t help that we’re two days away from the first and still under having six thousand.”
You frown a bit, knowing he’s right.
“If it’s too much we can always cancel.”
“No.” He sits up and stretches. “Gotta try, right? Besides, I guess me and the guys could use the exposure.”
You nod and sit back against the sofa. “Let’s just take a break.”
He agrees and stands. “Bathroom break.”
“I’ll make more coffee.” You walk to your kitchen as Eddie closes the door to your restroom.
He always loves it here. He likes all tour different soaps and skincare products. The fuzzy dark leopard print rug, your black toothbrush next to the dark red one he’d kept here for when he crashes. The vanilla cherry soap you always buy makes his callouses less rough and he gets obsessed with the way the scent lingers.
He washes his hands after emptying his first cup of morning coffee and fixes his wild curls. ‘Pull it together, Munson.’ He did fantastic as always rehearsing with the guys yesterday. Is he ready to perform at the store tonight? Hell yeah. So why couldn’t he sing right now for you?
You.
The scent of your body wash from the previous night. The way your legs look in those henley shorts, the way you look at him when he sings. The way you had been snuggled into his side while sharing your bed. He only wished he could spend every night in your bed, sleeping together, holding you, maybe even more one day..
Who are you kidding? She’s your best friend. The same girl you’ve know for half of your life. If she liked you that way, she’d be obvious about it, right?
Right.
He walks out of the restroom and sees you stirring the sugar in your coffees. It’s 11am but you both know you’re gonna need it for today. You both sit on the sofa again and sip your coffee.
“Damn, I swear you’ve got magic hands or something.” He chuckles and grips his mug with both hands this time as he drinks more.
“Just took a few pointers from Wayne.” You grin at the memories.
Twelve years old and standing under Wayne. He’d let you do something easy like make the toast or pour the juice. The one day you asked him to help make coffee he didn’t even hesitate. ‘Gonna be real simple.’ He taught both you and Eddie so much that your father’s never could’ve.
“Color me impressed.” He grins and sits his mug down. “I actually forgot to tell you with everything going on.”
You raise a brow, sipping your coffee before setting your mug down as well. “Tell me what?”
“Wayne’s coming to stay with me for a few months, till he finds his own place.”
You smile. “Wow. I didn’t think anything could pry him away from his trailer.”
“Yeah, well if you ask me I think he’s got a lady friend who’s tired of living in Hawkins. Wants to get him back into traveling.”
You sit up and gasp, facing Eddie fully this time. “Shut up! Wayne Munson has a lover?”
He grins. “Yeah but don’t tell anyone okay? He told me she’s pretty shy and well, you know how stoic he is. He wouldn’t say much but I’d hate to see him pissed.”
“Lips are sealed.” You nod and grin. “Just can’t believe he’s seeing someone. I thought Munson men didn’t like romance.”
Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Hey now, that’s a bold assumption. Munson men like romance. We just… like to pretend we don’t. Gotta keep up the family rep, you know?”
You raise an eyebrow, amused. “So… you’re saying you do like romance?“
He hesitates and leans back on his elbows. “I didn’t say that. But come on, you don’t think I’m secretly writing love ballads in my notebook or something do you?”
You grin, finding that image cuter than you would like to admit. “I wouldn’t put it past you, actually. I’ve seen the way you get all starry-eyed when you play your guitar.”
Eddie’s face flushes faintly as he fumbles for a comeback. “Ridiculous, sweetheart. That’s called passion, not romance.”
“If you say so,” you tease. “But maybe romance runs in the Munson blood, huh? Wayne’s got his mystery woman, and you’ve got…” You trail off, letting the implication hang in the air.
Eddie blinks, caught off guard. “Got what?”
You shrug casually, finding a way to disguise your current snooping as friendly conversation. “I don’t know. I mean, I already had a shitty date. Anyone take you on a shitty date? Someone catch your eye?”
He lets out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his wild curls. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
You lean in a little closer with what Eddie could only see as the cutest grin. “That wasn’t a no.”
Eddie grins back and his voice softens as he says, “Maybe there’s someone. Or maybe I’m just focusing on the music for now.”
“Uh huh,” you say, letting it go though you can’t help but notice the flicker of something vulnerable in his expression. Eddie Munson might act like he’s all about the music and rebellion, but there’s a part of him that’s clearly not as untouchable as he wants the world to think. And it shows every time he talks to you alone like this. As if it’s reserved for your eyes only.
“Anyways,” he says, clearing his throat and breaking the moment, “Wayne deserves to be happy. He’s been through enough and he raised me so.. if this lady makes him smile then I’m rooting for them.”
Your chest warms at the sentiment and you nod. “I think it’s sweet. But if she ever needs a wingwoman i’m here.”
Eddie snorts. “I’ll let him know you’re offering services. Though fair warning, Wayne might not appreciate you meddling in his love life.”
“Not meddling,” you say with a wink. “Just… supporting.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but the grin on his face says he doesn’t mind your teasing one bit. You sip your coffee again before getting running through tonight’s set list with Eddie one last time.
~~~~~~
“I must say, i’m impressed.” Larry says as he counts the money in the envelope.
Today he’s wearing jeans, as if he’s trying to impress you guys. As if it’ll make him younger, cooler, more chill. You hate it even more than the fancy suit he had on last time he was here.
“We’re all chipping in, it’s a process.” Hopper says from behind his desk, you and Larry sitting in the chairs that lie in front of it.
“Well sentiment is sweet but let’s face facts here. I have a meeting at 2 and an open house at 4:30 so..” He pulls books from his brief case, a napkin and an envelope of his own. “Lets talk business.”
You look at the books. “What’s all this?”
“These.. are the top four novels at Rutgers University right now. And the first in line for purchase to put on the shelves when Bassinger’s Library and Cafe opens.” He grins, saying the name like it’s already existent.
Hopper grabs one book. “Taxes for dummies. They said this place was gonna be an educational space.”
“And it will be. This book has been purchased vastly and I’ve heard nothing but good news about it.”
You look at the napkin. That stupid napkin with the fancy lettering on it. “And these are official?”
Larry smiles. “That they are. Go on and feel it, they’re made from the finest linens.” He holds it out to you and you don’t bother to reach out.
“Pass.”
Hopper speaks up. “Look, Larry. I get it. Business is business but we do still have two days left in our lease and an event to plan tonight-“
“And that’s why I’m here.” Larry opens up the envelope.
You raise a brow and look at Hopper. When he shrugs you both sit up and look at the.. check? A check for twenty one thousand dollars. Larry’s done the math.
“You have 6 employees, Jim. Seven once you include yourself. Now I am a fair man but I am mainly a working man. And I need this lot.”
“We don’t take bribes.” Hopper says simply.
“Offer, not a bribe. You take this check, you and your employees are walking away with a fresh good hard earned 3k each.” He smiles and pops the check before sitting it onto the desk.
“You’re trying to buy us out?” You glare at him.
“I need a lot and you need money so-“
“No what we need is our jobs! The jobs we actually enjoy doing. The jobs we’ve been fighting for all week, raising cash and holding this place down so corporate assholes like you don’t get the chance to take it away.”
Damn, it felt good to get that out.
“I can throw in an extra thousand for you young lady, but that is all.”
“And what exactly are you… asking for here?” Hopper sits up, arms folding over his desk.
“Forget your party. No events tonight, no awareness. Just take the money, close the store and hand me the keys. Today.”
“Are you crazy?” You glare at him with a slight frown. “You gave us a deadline.”
“And im offering a lift before you embarrass yourselves tonight. 5k in two days? Do you really see that happening?”
Truth is.. you were afraid, but you never show it. Determined and optimistic to save this place. Selling instruments, music, shoes and even dealing at that party with Eddie. You try to argue back but no words come out. And from your silence alone, Larry smirks. That is until Hopper speaks up.
“Get out.”
Larry huffs. “Excuse me? I have-“
“Get out of my office and my store.”
Larry stumbles for a moment, his confidence faltering as he glances between you and Hopper searching for an ally. For defense. He finds none.
You're still standing there speechless as your fists stay clenched at your sides. Part of you wants to yell, to tell Larry exactly where he can shove his smug attitude, but Hopper's presence says it all for you.
Larry narrows his eyes, his bravado returning just slightly as he straightens his suit. "Fine," he spits with venom. "But don't come crawling to me when you're out of options. You think this place is worth saving? You're just delaying the inevitable."
As much as it hurt you, you stayed silent. ‘The man always wins. Always.’ Hopper’s words linger in your mind, so you keep quiet.
But Hopper doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink. He simply points to the door.
"Last warning."
Larry puts his books and his check back into the briefcase but leaves the napkin. “To dry your tears.” And with that he leaves you and Hopper in the silence of his office.
He leans back against his desk, arms crossed and he looks at you with a mixture of exasperation and concern. "You okay?" he asks, his voice gentler now.
You nod quickly, though the truth is more complicated than that. Okay isn't exactly the word you'd use. Anxious. Shaken. Maybe even a bit nauseous. You feel a swirling mix of anger, fear, and an overwhelming pressure to keep everything together. But Hopper doesn't push for more, which you're grateful for.
"I'm sorry," you mumble, finally finding your voice. "I didn't mean for it to get... like that."
Hopper shakes his head. "Don't apologize for him. Larry's a parasite, always sniffing around for easy pickings, you’re alright ."
Still, guilt tugs at your chest. You can’t help but feel a little defeated by Larry and his ‘delaying the inevitable’ bull. "But he's right. We're.. I mean, I'm running out of options here, Hop. I thought I had it under control, but-"
"Hey," Hopper interrupts, his tone firm but kind. "You're not doing this alone. You’re smart and this store It wouldn’t run right without you. We'll figure it out.”
~~~~~
“Okay the balloons are all done. Me and Steve will prep the stage and Jonathan’s gonna record the performance.” Chrissy says from behind you.
You nod. “Okay.” A bit zoned out if you will.
You’re too focused on the beautiful boy on the makeshift stage. Long dark curls and the silver of his tummy showing as he stacks his amps. The way his dark lashes rest against his cheeks as his eyes shut while laughing at a joke Jeff cracked.
“Hellooo..” Chrissy shakes her head and grins.
You look at her and grin. “Right. The balloons.”
"Yeah, the balloons. Unless you plan on floating away with them," Chrissy teases, nudging you gently with her elbow.
You roll your eyes playfully, your gaze involuntarily drifting back to Eddie. He's still up on stage, his fingers fiddling with wires now and his grin brighter than the string lights lining the back of the room. It's almost unfair how effortlessly captivating he is. It’s even more ridiculous how much you want him.
Chrissy notices and raises a brow. "You're totally zoning again. Should I just tie a balloon to your wrist and call it a day?"
"I'm not zoning," you protest weakly, cheeks warming.
"Sure you're not," she says with a smirk, grabbing a few more balloons. "You're just... intensely observing, huh?"
“I’m looking out for my friend, it’s not that deep.” You laugh at her raised brows. “Besides, it’s not like i’m stalking. I just wanna make sure tonight goes perfectly. Which means everything on that stage needs to be perfect.”
“Especially Eddie, right?” She gives you a knowing look and before you can argue Steve walks up to you both behind the counter.
“Alright ladies. Everything’s all set. The guys are tuning up. Ready to open the doors?”
Chrissy nods. "Yeah we're good to go." She looks back at you with a knowing grin. "Right?”
You groan quietly, giving the last string a tug before letting it float with the others. The night hasn't even officially started, and you already feel like your heart's been doing a soundcheck of its own.
Decor, check. Music, check. Food, check. After an hour or regular work, customers arrive and place cash into the bin at the door with Robin and Steve watching over it. Chrissy and Jonathan are preparing the camera and lights since the performance starts in five. Corroded Coffin is on the stage, ready to perform, hyped, nervous and… missing their lead singer?
You look for Eddie in the break room. You look for him in the back of the store, through the window into the parking lot, in the restroom. No sign of him.
Then you remember his favorite spot in the store. You go up the stairs and look through the window of listening booth number 7.
Eddie’s sat on the bench. His knee bouncing, head hung low and the headphones keeping his wild curls down. You and gently knock before walking in, closing the door behind you. He takes the headphones off and you hear the Beatles spilling through the headphones.
“Mind if I sit?” You nod at the space next to him.
He nods and moves over on the bench. “Yeah, just.. prepping a bit-“
“You know you can tell me anything Eddie, right?” You look over his face. The way his nerves have him in a chokehold. His hands gripping the headphones a bit too tightly.
“I know.” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, he hangs the headphones on the wall. “Just.. this performance. I don’t wanna disappoint anyone.”
‘I don’t wanna disappoint you.’
"You could never disappoint anyone, Eddie," you say softly, hoping to ease his nerves. "Especially not me."
Eddie looks at you with his big brown eyes, swimming with doubt and vulnerability. "You say that now, but what if I mess up? What if I blank out or miss a note? Everyone's counting on me."
You reach out, your hand hesitating for a moment before settling on his knee. His bouncing leg stills under your touch. "Eddie.. you don't have to carry the whole world on your shoulders. This is for the store, yeah? But it’s about you too. You don’t have to worry because everyone’s here Eddie. I’m here.“
He looks down at your hand, placing his heavier one over yours. He looks back up at you, his expression softening. "You're too good to me you know that?"
"Not possible," you say with a grin. "Now, what do you need? A pep talk? A distraction? I'm at your service."
Eddie leans back against the wall, his shoulders relaxing just a little. "Honestly? Just.. stay here for a bit? I don't wanna be in my head anymore."
You nod, scooting just a little closer so your shoulder brushes his. "I can do that."
You both sit as the music spills from the headphones, and Eddie lays his head on your shoulders. His hair tickles your neck but right now you wouldn’t dare move or disturb the peace you both have in this moment. He hesitates before lacing your fingers with his and you acknowledge each other with a simple squeeze of the hand.
You sat there until the clock hit 6:30. Showtime.
Eddie’s on the makeshift stage and the store has a bit of a crowd. A small one, sure. But still a crowd. You sit on the counter, looking ahead at the boys as they introduce themselves. Of course, he can’t help but look at you. He speaks into the mic to the crowd.
“You guys love it here at Empire Records?”
The crowd whoops and cheers, you included.
“So there’s a guy. This.. weird, cocky, obnoxious, pretentious guy. Wont say his name, yet. But he wants to shut the place down.” He dramatically frowns and clutches his chest as the crowd gasps.
‘Bullshit. No way! What a douchebag!’ Well at least the people agree with you.
“My thoughts exactly. He says we promote some.. provocative musical acts. How ‘bout we show him something provocative, hm?”
Jeff and Doug strum at their guitars and bass, starting off Judas Priest’s Parental Guidance.
Eddie smirks. “To hell with the man.” He strums his guitar, stepping up to the mic and he starts to sing. You watch his fingers as they expertly move over the strings, he nods his head as his voice tinges the mic with a soothing but angry rasp.
‘You say I waste my life away but I live it to the full
And how would you know anyway?
You're just Mister Dull
How don't you get into the things we do today?
You could lose twenty years right away
So we say’
And you all sing back at him.
We don't need no
No, no, no parental guidance here
Everyone rocks out and dances, enjoying Corroded Coffin’s original songs and covers. Everyone agreed that the energy in Empire Records tonight was charged and thriving off of your sole reason: to keep this place alive.
You even managed to make some sales and by the time Steve and Robin finished counting the cash you got tonight, your final product rested at a solid seven thousand. Tonight was the night that you knew. The night that you felt it. Empire Records belongs to the people. It belongs to you.
~~~~
“Cheers, to a very successful performance.” You grin and hold up a glass of champagne. Well.. one of Eddie’s mugs actually. He holds up another. “And to the Empire.”
You smile and clink your mugs together, sighing as you sip the champagne and sink into his sofa a bit more. “You absolutely killed it Eddie. Rob Halford himself would be jealous of the way you charmed us all tonight.”
He grins. “All in a day’s work princess. Besides, it felt good performing with the boys like that again.”
You smile at his words and set your mug down on the coffee table, turning slightly to face him. "Good? Eddie, you were incredible. The way you owned that stage.. you had everyone eating out of the palm of your hand."
Eddie leans back into the cushions, his grin softening into something more reflective. "It was a rush, l'll admit. But hearing you say that? That means more than the crowd, you know."
His words catch you off guard and for a moment all you can do is stare at him. The glow from the lamp casts a warm light across his face, highlighting the faint flush in his cheeks, whether from the champagne or your compliment, you're not sure.
"Eddie..." you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't need me to tell you how talented you are. But I'll say it anyway, as many times as you need to hear it.”
He doesn’t know what to say for a moment. Here you were all pretty. Kind heart and more of a lover of his music than himself. He wouldn’t dare call you his biggest fan, a title like that isn’t even worth it for you.
He chuckles a low nervous sound. "You're ridiculous you know that? Saying things like that. It's not fair."
"Not fair?" you tease, leaning in just slightly. "How so?"
His eyes flick to yours and then to your lips, lingering just a second too long. "Because you make it hard to think straight," he admits quietly, almost hesitant as his eyes find their way back to yours.
Your heart skips at his confession, and the air between you shifts. Heavier, warmer, sentimental. You hold his gaze, your breath catching as his words settle between you. There's something in the way he looks at you, something raw and unguarded that pulls you in without warning.
"Maybe you don't need to think straight," you murmur, your voice barely audible. It's more of a dare than a statement and you see the way his throat bobs as he swallows.
Eddie exhales shakily, his fingers flexing against his thigh as if he's holding himself back. He’s always holding himself back. "You don't get it," he says, voice low and tinged with something that sounds a lot like longing. "You... you don't even realize what you do to me."
You lean in just a little closer, your knees brushing as you take in the faint scents of leather, cologne, and Eddie’s post show b.o which in all honesty you didn’t mind much at all.
"Then maybe you should show me," you say softly, a teasing edge to your words but an undeniable sincerity and nervousness in your tone. You only hope he doesn’t get shaken or angry that you would even suggest something so vulgar.
He freezes for a moment, caught between hesitation and desire.
‘Last time she tried to kiss me, she was drunk out of her mind.’
He looks at the champagne. You had only had one mug and so did he. And that look in your eyes.. its the same look you had given him when he gifted you that onyx ring on your birthday. Soft eyes looking into his. Care, love.. yearning.
‘Fuck it.’
The next thing you feel is Eddie’s hands cupping your face and he presses his lips to yours. Very tentative at first, as if he's afraid you might pull away. You nearly shock his brain when he feels your lips press against his own.
Your hands find their way to his cheeks, your fingers brushing the smaller curls at the nape of his neck. His breath hitches and you feel him relax into you, the nervous energy melting away as his lips move against yours, warm and insistent.
Everytime else slowly fades away. Your mind was empty of all of it’s worries. You shitty date, Larry, the stress of losing the store. Eddie was all you could think off. All you could feel, hear, taste.
When he finally pulls back for air his forehead rests against yours, and he gives you a small, almost shy smile.
Eddie's thumb brushes against your cheek and you can feel his breath against your lips, warm and uneven. "You have no idea how long l've wanted to do that," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your chest tightens and for a moment you can't find your voice. Instead, you let your fingers slip from his curls down to his shoulders, gripping the worn fabric of his shirt.
"Then maybe you shouldn't stop now," you finally manage to spit out, your voice soft but steady as you look into his eyes. You’re relieved to see his are charged with just as much desire as your own.
His eyes widen for a split second before his lips are back on yours, more confident this time. His hands slide down to your waist and he pulls you closer. The world outside the room might as well not exist. Every kiss, every touch feels electric like a current you can't resist.
The kiss deepens and you find yourself straddling his lap, Eddie following instinctively as he carefully pulls you closer by your waist, his hands never leaving you as they splay against your back.
You kiss him and with the smallest tilt of his head you give his curls a gentle tug. He slide his hands down, a bit hesitant before you arch your back, letting his palms rest on your ass. You both part your lips as your tongues finally meet.
He moans as he finally tastes you. He always imagined what you would taste like. He wasn’t far off: vanilla chapstick, the cherry champagne you’d been sipping on and a taste that’s distinctive to you and you only.
You could say the same about him. The feel of Eddie’s lips is foreign but very welcome. They’re slightly chapped yet so warm and the way they lock onto yours is match made. You gasp and a moan falls from your lips when he bucks his hips up, desperately for your touch.
Oh, he’s huge. You always figured so. His swim trunks never hid much and nor did his jeans, especially on nights like tonight. Riled up from a very active and energetic performance, he still had so much more to give. And when you roll your hips down at his bucking, he knew exactly how he’d let off that energy tonight.
He grips the backs of your thighs, lifting you into the air. He taps the denim clad skin in which you take as a sign to wrap your legs around him. He doesn’t break the kiss as he walks you into his bedroom.
Once he sets you down the back of your knees hits the edge of the bed. You pause, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His dark brown eyes search yours, his pupils blown wide with nervous excitement.
He slowly removes his shirt and you reach out and help him, his messy curls falling onto his soft pale skin, the tee falling to the ground. He gently reaches his hands out, hovering over your shirt.
“Can I?” He asks softly, looking into your eyes for any signs of hesitation but he finds none.
“Yeah.” You grin and gently pull him closer by his belt loops.
He smiles and pulls your tee over your head, discarding it to lay right next to his on the floor. His breath hitches and he gently rests his hands on your sides, rubbing at your ribs and down your sides.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”
You grin. “Makes two of us.”
The sight before you is mind boggling but definitely worth it. A blushing fool, that’s what he feels like. He lays you onto his bed and crawls over you, his hair tickling your chest, the hills of your breasts peeking from the confines of your bra.
He swallows. “I have some hair ties if the hair’s too much for you.”
“Don’t you ever hide these curls away from me.” You gently rake your fingers in his curls. “I love them, I love this.”
He smile and kisses you again, your hands find rest on his shoulders, rubbing gently as you kiss. It’s as if time isn’t real when he’s with you like this. Every flick of your tongue against his, every gently brush of your tummy against his, every caress of your hands on each other. It was all surreal.
When you tug his curls again he pulls back and pants a bit wildly. He shuts his eyes and you speak softly, a bit confused.
“Are you okay?” You rub his shoulder.
He nods. “Sorry. I’m just..” Incredibly hard. He almost feels embarrassed.
Now is definitely not the time to tell you that he hasn’t had sex in more than over a year. It had just been his right palm, some X rated mags and something he picked up from the Spencer’s after a very long shift. But being with you like this was bound to break him any moment.
He stands up. “I’ve gotta take these jeans off or this is gonna end a lot faster than you want it to.” He unbuckles his jeans, so you start to remove yours as well. He swears you’re trying to kill him when he sees that your panties match your bra. You could see him twitch in his boxers.
“I don’t mind, Eddie.” You sit up, resting back on your elbows for support. “I just need you closer.”
He grins and walks over to his dresser. “So you do want to kill me.”
You laugh. “What are you stalling on me now?”
He digs through his drawer. “So impatient, princess.”
He crawls back over you with the small blue package in hand. He kisses you again before trailing softer ones down your skin. “Just rolling the ball.”
He continues to kiss your skin. Down your chest and onto your tummy until he gets to your panties, kissing the wet spot on them. He moans and shakes his head. He looks up at you a bit in disbelief.
“This all for me?” He lays on his stomach between your legs, gently caressing your thighs as he sets the condom onto the sheets.
You grin with a bite to your lip, knowing how turned on it gets him. “All yours.”
He gently tugs at your panties and you lift your hips to help him. “Oh how you spoil me.”
He nestles his nose to your inner thigh, taking in your scent as he leaves gentle kisses on your skin. He enjoys the way your hand rests gentle over his mop of curls, the way your legs rest over his shoulders, the way you taste. He gives you a kitten lick from your hole all the way up to your clit, letting out a muffled.. “oh.”
When he licks you again you can’t help but arch your back, returning a higher and more pleasure filled ‘oh.’
He’s looks up at you, voice muffled as he refuses to pull away from you. “Like that, baby?”
You moan at the nickname, head flopping back onto his pillows. “Yes, so good Eddie.”
“Wanna stretch you out, get you ready for me, ‘s that okay?”
He says it so sweetly but the intention behind his words get you wetter than ever. “Yes, Eddie.”
You arch your back as he sides in a finger, the cold metal of his ring chilling your folds as he thrusts his finger slowly. When he gets a nice fill of your pretty moans he adds another, starting to trust them.
“Oh fuck, Eddie, I’m not gonna be able to-“
“That’s alright baby, come for me. Want you to.” He curls his fingers and you feel like your brain has went haywire, the coil inside of you snapping sooner than you thought. Your moans turn into whimpers as he twists his fingers a bit, keeping you through the high as your release showers his fingers and lips.
“Eddie!”
He shows down his movements and looks up at your face. He worries he overdid his efforts, but smiles when you pull him up to lay over you.
“That good?” He smiles.
“So good.” You smile, pulling him into a kiss as he shares the taste of you.
“Lay back,” you say to him, “I wanna ride you.”
His eyes widen. “Jeez, sweetheart, you can’t hustle say anything like that. I’m gonna blow my fucking load.” He chuckles but he isn’t joking. You could see him leaking through his boxers.
“That’s okay.. we’ve got all night.” You both smile and share a kiss, passionate and hungry for more. Eddie could still taste your orgasm on his tongue and that alone made him excited to give you more and more. But he wasn’t going to rush this. You have all night and he’s gonna use it the best he can.
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taglist: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914 @definitionwanderlust
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venusincleo · 1 day ago
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𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.
⁰¹. ʳᵒᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ.
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Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Giselle Knowles x Terry Richmond, fluff, angst.
Summary: In which Giselle Knowles is the graceful yet saditty and highly successful hairstylist known as GiGi, and Terrance Richmond or TJ, is the reliable and sought after town mechanic. Their five year old friendship is filled with a long lasting crush that TJ is too invested in to abandon, and an attraction that makes it hard for Gi to stick to her guns about not wanting anything romantic with him. But, one day, when she needs someone to confide in, TJ gets a chance to show her that age ain’t nothing but a number.
Word Count: 2.6k❣ 
A/N: I have no business starting anything else knowing what my drafts look like but... here we are 🥲 I couldn't resist. I hope you enjoy! 🫶🏾
p.s. this is part one of this miniseries so... stay tuned! ♡
• • •
𝑨𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏, the young man worked tirelessly to make good on his promise. Hands covered in oil rubbed against the cloth he had hanging from his waistband, and then, he shut the hood of the Range Rover Velar that belonged to his last customer of the day. Upon hearing the metal door click in place, the young woman ended her phone call, and turned to view her car.
Her Louboutin heels clicked along the concrete flooring of the garage, and as she approached the gentleman, his eyes couldn’t help but attach to her frame.
“Thank you for this TJ, really.” Her deep, buttery southern rasp eased from her lips effortlessly as she reached her hand out to touch his arm in thanks. He gives her a boyish grin, his aquamarine eyes gazing into her dark hazel ones.
“Don’t mention it. I told you, any time.” She returns a smile of her own, her pretty almond shaped eyes lighting up at the man who wouldn’t dare to not keep his word. Especially with her.
“And you don’t have to keep calling me TJ. Terry is fine.” He advises her. With a playful roll of her eyes, she creates just another inch of distance between them as she can sense where he’s trying to steer the conversation.
“Boy, please. Yo mama named you TJ, so I’m gon’ call you TJ.” The large young man only shakes his head, cleaning the few tools he previously used on his rag and setting them back in his tool box.
“Okay, GiGi.” Though he mumbles, the bass in his voice makes it so that even a whisper has projection, and the beautiful woman drops her jaw playfully.
“Wow.” She exclaims, shaking her head dramatically. Terry only scoffs at how she takes her own medicine, and then, the room falls quiet for a moment. Once he has all of his things organized back in their rightful place, he turns the lights off and starts to lock up, signaling to his counterpart that it was time to go.
“Oh, um…how much do I owe you?” She asks genuinely.
With all intentions of ignoring the question he thought she’d known better than to ask by now, Terry fastens the rest of the buttons on his work shirt, and quickly throws on his jacket. As he pats his pockets for his keys he realizes he’s good to close, yet he sees his friend still standing beside her truck.
“You’re all good, Gi. C’mon so I can close up.” He tries to be definitive about it, but when he sees the woman still as can be beside her car door, he releases a soft breath.
“No, you come on. I feel bad for holding you past closing time. Let me make it up to you.” Just as the words leave her lips, Terry is allowing his eyes to glaze over her every feature. He hadn’t allowed himself to get too distracted by her earlier, as he wanted to get done working on her car as soon as possible. But seeing her within the low light of the setting sun, and the darkened garage now, a flood of feelings came back full force.
Her naturally brunette tresses were straightened to perfection, with layers falling around her face. Romance curls lingered along her shoulders, accented with the tiniest streaks of blonde. The dark hair brought out the depth of her hazel-brown eyes and Terry had to fight to not get lost in them. Or lost in the soul behind them.
Giselle Knowles. Daughter of the Knowles family who were all known for their entreprenurial spirit; and she was no different. When they first met, his mother introduced them in hopes that the sweet young woman she met in church would take interest in her true southern gentleman of a son. If only Mrs. Richmond knew that her plan would result in the opposite, and that GiGi would have a hold on TJ, she may not have introduced them.
Now, five full years later, after initially trying to court the siren of a woman and learning that she only wanted a friend in him, he had vowed to himself to be whatever she needed. So far, that was a mechanic and confidant, but he was always hoping for the moment when she would make it more.
"You hungry?" She asks, finding anyway that she can reciprocate the huge favor he had just done for her. Finally giving in to the insistent woman, Terry scratches along his temple as he shifts his weight.
"Yeah, I could eat."
“You still eat like a growing boy, I see.” Gi watched across the small table as Terry dove into his meal, chicken bones and utensils be damned. He stopped for a moment, glancing his icy blue eyes her way, before he lowered the half bird to the paper it was served on. His large hands fished for a napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table, and ultimately grabbed the last one, bringing the thin piece of tissue paper to his mouth to wipe off the grease and chicken juice.
When he finally looked at his longtime friend, they both burst into a fit of laughter, remembering all of the times that she had witnessed TJ scarf his food down like he didn’t know where his next meal was coming from. Recovering from the tear inducing laughter, she could only shake her head, thinking of the response TJ gave her when she asked if he was hungry.
“Tal’m ‘bout, ‘I could eat.’ You was starving!” She continues to laugh, and Terry takes this time to admire her smile, as he chuckles a little beside her.
“I be try’nna tell you. Im not the same boy that you met some years ago. I’m a grown ass man, I gotta keep my weight up.” He flexes his muscles under hand and Gi’s eyebrows raise as she watches the muscles under his veined arms contract.
“Yeah, yeah, put those away, there’s kids around.” She jokes back, playfully glancing around their vicinity.
“Oh… oh.” He straightens his posture, and puts his arms in front of himself as if that would make him any smaller. They share a more quiet laugh, and then their eyes connect for yet another time tonight.
It’s almost awkward, as they look at each other for a moment longer, just taking the other in.
“When was the last time we got together like this?” Terry’s voice is soft in his inquiry, his hands reaching for the empty napkin dispenser to busy himself. Giselle feels his gaze get a bit more intense, and she averts her eyes to the half-eaten basket of fries before her.
“Um…” She thinks back to the few hangouts she’d had with friends throughout the year, and she can only single out one in particular.
“I think the last time it was just you and I was… after your mom’s memorial day cookout. So, May.”
“Damn, and it’s December, Gi.” Terry lets a beat of silence pass and then he’s shaking his head in thought.
“Nah, you gotta clear your calendar for me like twice a month, atleast one.” He reasoned. Friends that lived in the same state had to see more of eachother. Right?
Giselle takes a deep breath in, and looks to the side of her at the local chicken restaurant that was getting emptier and emptier as the hour passed. Her cheeks heated slightly as she assumed the implications of his words.
“Look, Terry. I told you before, you’re too young for me.” His eyebrows furrow for a second, and then a humored look fills his face in place of his natural pout.
“What are you talking about?” He asks, clearly. GiGi blinks at his apparent obliviousness, and motions toward him with her hands.
“I’m talking about you, saying I need to clear my schedule for you.” She repeats his words, and he finds himself scoffing at her assumptions.
“I don’t know what you were thinking, but I meant just to get together and catch up so…” Terry shrugs off the confusion, yet Giselle can feel even more heat rising in her cheeks and her palms grow sweaty. Why did I say that? She starts to rake her brain for when she missed the cues, or maybe created one from thin air.
Maybe he wasn’t pining after her anymore.
“Sorry…” A nervous laugh encases her apology, as she avoids his eyes at all costs. Suddenly, it seemed like if she looked at him she would burst into flames.
She recognized the feeling of embarrassment all too well, but… what was it that was pulling at her heart? Welling in the pit of her stomach?
When she was quiet for too long, Terry began to feel a slight pang in his chest. He knew her well enough to recognize when something was wrong; her face would fall, accentuating her pretty little pout and and then she would get spacey, glancing around at anything that wouldn’t grimace at her for staring. Just like she was now.
“Gigi?” He called out for her. But the only thing that changed was her eyes flickering up to his.
“What’s wrong?” What’s wrong? Maybe the random jump in her core when she watched him flex his muscles, or the way she smiled wider when she looked over his caramel complexion. This was not good.
“Nothing… and please don’t call me that.” She softens her tone so that she doesn’t take out her internal frustrations on him. But despite popular opinion, nothing had been peachy keen over on her side. Except for the money, but still, taxes came to mess with that too. Now, she was feeling things she had never felt before.
Terry jerked his head back slightly, confused by her sudden disdain for her widely known nickname.
“Everybody calls you GiGi, why can’t I?”
“Yeah, and everybody thinks they know me. They may know GiGi the hairstylist, but they don’t know Giselle.” She blinks and her eyes barely gloss over as she realizes the truth she is about to speak.
“But, you know me. So it’s different.” Terry listens to her deep country twang and hopes that he’s hearing her right. Is she… confessing?
He adjusts himself in his seat, and leans forward so that he can read her face better. He couldn’t afford to misunderstand her.
“So what would you rather me call you?” Yours.
“Everything good over here?” It takes Terry everything in him to drag his eyes away from Giselle, but when he does, he looks over at the waitress and gives her a polite nod.
“Cool.” She grabs the leather booklet with their bill from her wide apron pocket and places it between them on the table. “You guys can take care of that when you’re ready.”
Giselle was still too in her head to fully process that Terry was pulling two twenties from his wallet and telling the waitress to keep the change. But when the pretty young girl sauntered off with the paid tab, it was just them again. And they were able to pick up where they left off. Yet, Terry wanted to take the conversation somewhere else. Someplace where they wouldn’t be interrupted.
“Let me walk you to your car.”
In an effort to shield themselves from the cool fall night of the bustling downtown area, Giselle and Terry walk closer than before, foraging for heat. Their steps are slow, in tandem, as if they wanted to soak up the next few minutes of being next to each other. Both of their minds played their conversation back, scaling the words for different reasons.
GiGi hoped that she was clear with her doting, yearning words. But all she could remember was being vague as hell. And that wouldn’t serve either of them right now.
Terry paced over the words that he heard, dipping between them to try and read some other meaning. Was he missing something? It was pulling at him. A feeling a little too familiar, yet, it was shared now.
Their hands grazed the other as they walked as if they were joined at the hip. It was comfortable this way. Existing in the reality of the thing without fully acknowledging it.
But, Terry didn’t want comfortability. He wanted clarity.
“You still didn’t answer my question.” Giselle looks up at his side profile and then he turns his head so that his eyes can meet hers. For a moment they search inside eachother, hoping to get to the bottom of such intense feelings. Just as quickly as she looked at him, GiGi allows her eyes to fall to the pavement in front of her.
“Gi is fine. No one calls me that.” It wasn’t as different as she had first thought. And it surely wasn’t all that she had in mind for him to call her, but it would do for now.
“Hmph.” Terry lets his eyes rest on her for a moment more before he directs them to the path that they are walking on, and soon, they are reaching her glossy black Range. Silence was all that filled the space between them, and since she didn’t know what else to say, Giselle began to reach for her car door handle.
“Gi.”
His deep, gravelly voice calls out for her and she doesn’t give it a second before she is turning around to see what he wanted. Arms outstretched in front of him, Terry motioned for one of their infamous hugs, and though her eyes glossed over at the thought of him holding her with her feelings so raw, she didn’t deny him.
Giselle’s arms wrapped around Terry’s neck as if it was instinct, her body extended slightly as she stood on the tips of her toes, even in her Louboutins. Terry allowed his arms to squeeze her tight around her torso, holding her against him tenderly.
And for the first time the whole night, it was clear what each of them felt. Their heartbeats heightened in pace at the same exact time, pumping at the same exact rhythm.
GiGi tried her hand at taking a deep breath, which did absolutely nothing for her bleeding heart. All it did was allow her to take in a closer whiff of Terry’s scent, and she found her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She had no idea that the faint smell of motor oil, with his natural musk and the woody smell of his rosemary cologne would mix so well. But, it did something to her for sure.
“You get home safe, a’ight?” He begins to pull away yet they are still close, and her eyes open to gaze into his longingly. Without another thought, Giselle leans her face up and places the most velveteen kiss on his thick lips, her mind completely clear, just for a second.
Then, her eyes open and her inhibitions come rushing back in.
“Uh-I…” She tries to find the words but she is completely dumbfounded. It’s like her body was putty in his hands, but she didn’t want to do too much. She couldn’t.
As she begins to step back, Terry pulls her back in, and presses his forehead against hers.
“Stop holding back.” He rasps, wholly taken by the charm she had worked on him. It didn’t take her lips touching his for his feelings to be ignited, but just the thought that they were feeling the same things had his extremities ablaze. “Say what’s on your mind.”
“I want you.”
• • •
I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎
• • •
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ameliathornromance · 2 days ago
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The Other Woman - Final Part
A/N: Here’s part three! I know you guys wanted to know what happened to the Guard’s wife so here it is; This will also be the last part I do for this series as I’ve got a ton of other ideas and I’d like to work on those as well. Anyway, enjoy the last part!
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Since you’d left the Palace in the Human populated area, time went by in a whirlwind.
Your wedding with the Lord had happened quickly after leaving and was one of the prettiest events the whole forest – and some humans – had ever seen.
The Fae Lord had been delighted to invite and meet the rest of your family. He and your father seemed to get along swimmingly already, and greeted each other like they were old friends when your families carriage arrived in the forest.
Later that evening, after catching up with your family and entertaining them the whole day, you had asked the Fae Lord something that had been on your mind for the day, “how and when did you meet my father?”
It had evaded you how he had asked your father for your hand, and it hadn’t occurred to you to ask your Fiance until today.
The Fae Lord gave his signature grin as he raised a tea cup to his lips, “I actually met him the night I said I wanted to help you.” He explained, “your father was in a pub and I had snuck out to go and do some late night drinking. He was there and we just hit it off.” The Lord set his cup down on its saucer and frowned. “Although, it wasn’t until the next morning that I actually found out he was your father, and then had to work on my image before I asked him for your hand.”
You snorted, “yeah something tells me he wouldn’t have been happy about a drunken Fae asking for my hand in marriage after you’d been out with him the previous night.”
Soon, your wares and personal items began to arrive from the Palace and amongst them, were all the presents that the King’s Guard had gifted you. They had been thrown into one of your many jewellery boxes, the necklaces tangled together with the many bracelets that the Orc had gifted you.
They felt dirty, wrong to even look at now, felt tarnished and rusted with sin as you ran your thumb over the smooth gold.
Of course, you wouldn’t dream of wearing them, but you also couldn’t stand to just throw them away. Many other people who were less fortunate than you could benefit from the money that these items cost… but the thought of giving the people evidence of adultery filled you with dread, made your stomach churn with anxiety.
You explained your complicated feelings to your fiance one morning at breakfast.
He listened intently, before suggesting, “why don’t you send them to King’s Guards’ wife?”
Your blood turned cold at the thought. “Isn’t that a bit… callous?” You asked. “For her I mean. She’s probably had the baby now, and isn’t in much of a situation to leave him if she wanted… That and then everyone would know what happened between me and her husband.”
“Not necessarily.” Your fiance said, raising a finger. He leaned his elbows on the breakfast table and pointed at you, “it doesn’t have to be done in bad taste. If you send her the jewellery and offer her a position here, with better pay and better accommodation, she may just come here and decide to work for us.”
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batboyblog · 4 hours ago
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i live in the south, and i used to follow someone on here who lives in the same state as me, who i thought would've understood how difficult things are for marginalized people who live in red states and why we needed harris to win. but they kept reblogging posts about how both parties are the same and anyone who votes for harris is voting for genocide (as if letting trump win was going to be any better?? he's just started talking about wanting to "clean out the whole thing" and forcibly displace all remaining palestinians by making them move to jordan and egypt, an idea which every group who would be affected hates 🙄). i kept hoping they'd finally realize the very obvious fact that contributing to trump's win wasn't going to make things better for any decent person in the world but the last straw for me was when they posted something like "well i was going to go vote for [fictional character] but the line was too long so i just went home haha!!" i blocked them right after that, and now of course trump is in office and things are going to get so much worse for me and for them as those of us in red states have so much less of a chance to push back against our local governments and all of the bigots who voted for trump will feel more emboldened by his win. so yeah, i share your small fantasy that people like that will wake up and realize they were wrong for spreading these ideas. sorry for venting in your inbox though lol, you don't have to reply to this if you don't want to!
One of my best friends in politics is from Louisiana. He's gay and when he came out his parents sent him to a pray the gay away camp where... really horrible shit happened. And I think about that skinny kid coming out of just the most horrible shit imaginable and being a Freshman in college working his ass off for a Red State Democratic Senator, Mary Landrieu, Mary didn't win, but he worked SO hard for her. And we met working on Hillary's campaign together, boy has bad luck with Democratic women running for office.
Any ways the point is, I love red state Dems, I really do. My friend really loved John Bel Edwards, now I don't think either of us really fully agreed with Edwards, I know my friend was as feminist as a gay boy can be and believed in the right to an abortion totally, Edwards was/is one of the rare pro-life Democrats. But my friend understood, a Democratic governor would protect more people's rights, do more for the poor and the disadvantaged. Edwards' signed an order day one in office banning LGBT discrimination in the state government, when a Republican took over 8 years later, day one, threw that order out, a lot like Trump undoing all the pro-LGBT orders Biden did and rolling back trans rights/access to federal documents that came about under President Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.
I think thats the thing, in Red States and in America at large we share this big country with a lot of people most of whom are more conservative than I am, so how do I get as much of what I want as I can? Do I vote Mickey Mouse for President? no I vote for the candidate that will do the most good, I won't always agree with them, I don't agree with myself most of the time.
idk it's not... theoretical to me? I'm likely not writing my best work here but when it comes to voting I think about all the people in my life who needed help, if they got it or not, and the ways they were left behind or would have been life behind and all the kids out there, queer kids trans kids, the poor always the poor kids, you know and the loss they'll suffer because of 4 years of a Republican President. And yes Trump is a VERY bad Republican President but if we ever get to some future after him there will come a time where maybe a bland centrist Democrat will run against a business focused Republican, Bush V Gore? and people will say "oh there's no difference" and there is.
oh also I want to say, the little old ladies, the normie "cringe lib" wine moms and grandmas (and yes dads and granddads, but more women then men tbh) who struggle with a grand-nephews pronouns did more for trans rights by going out knocking doors for Harris one weekend, then shitty leftist posters (trans and not) who endlessly attacked Dems and voting.
any ways I'm sorry all this is happening, idk what state you're in or how bad it is or will be. I don't have easy answers for living through this long night of the soul. As Thomas Paine put it all those years ago "These are the times that try men's souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman." it is trying my soul, but I will endure as we all must endure, we can not give up we cannot fail, we cannot allow ourselves to be ground down by fascists, and by their handmaids who act as if they're on our side, I hope everyone is looking to what they can do, and what the next chance they have to fight back and take back political power is.
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shy-canadian-snowflake · 22 hours ago
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I don't know why but anytime I've had a bad day, I start planning another Poolverine fic. Will it ever see the light of day? Maybe!
I have: Celeberity AU- Logan and Wade are famous actors who pretend to date to get bad tabloids off Logan's back. (Being seen leaving a hotel with your best friends wife (Jean) isn't great when you are an A lister.) (Probably going to drop this idea soon)
Tarzan AU- Logan and Victor were ship-wrecked on an island when they were very very young. They learned to survive from badgers and big wild cats. One day Ajax and his Team (Including Wade) come to the island to learn about the wildlife there. (Still planning this)
My Crown Au- Where Wade learns he's next in line and has 3 months to learn everything there is about this new country and her people before he takes the crown- or pawns it off to Scott like how everyone wants him too, including his gaurd (Logan) that he can't stop sleeping with. (11,000 words of plans so far, still planning)
Magical Witch Au- Where Wade is a witch who just so happens to be dying and his magic is so weak that it can't save him. So he does an old spell thinking it will save him- it does and now he has a wolverine familiar named Logan. Oh and he also wants to kill a cult. (First chapter almost done)
Theater AU- In which Logan is the lead actor, Fem!Wade is the lead actress and they are the puppets on stage for Jean and Scott to use. Logan is only there because he wants Jean. Fem!Wade is only there because her mental health worker Blind Al says she needs to get out more. (Started this tonight)
now the question is, what fic do I finish first?
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dogwaterdish · 1 day ago
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I saw someone say that Midoriya only let himself be called "Deku" because he had no self respect and it hit a rant nerve in me, so...
It is a lot more than that.
Uraraka was Midoriya's first friend at UA. She helped him during the entrance exams, and was immediately open to being his friend and talking to him kindly. Since day one she's helped midoriya gain confidence and he's helped her get stronger too. Before that, he was alone, had no friends, and was bullied for everything, to the point of being told to kill himself. "Deku" was an insult made from his own name, the essence of who he is, and used to taunt and ridicule him since he was ~5 years old.
Then, time passes, and he's in a new school with new people, and these people treat him like an equal, with respect and with dignity. When they look at him they don't see a quirkless loser with impossible dreams, but instead they see a classmate, a kid with the same hope as them and with real, tangible aspirations. The first day of school in this new environment goes by, and Midoriya's walking home with two of his new friends, Iida and Uraraka. Uraraka asks about the nickname that Bakugou used, and after being told it was used as an insult, manages to twist it into a good thing by saying it sounds like a motivational word instead of something bad.
He accepts the new nickname positively, and later when he's going toe to toe with his old bully, a kid he thought he would always be under, who he would never surpass, he tells him that he can no longer use that name against him. Instead, he's reclaiming it and redefining his future, his worth, his everything. He's not letting Bakugou hold things like that over him anymore, and that's important. Because of Uraraka and the new confidence she gave him about himself, not just with the nickname but through the nickname, Midoriya is able to free himself from being brought down by Bakugou and bullied with that nickname.
If he continued viewing it in a negative light, it would be a weight over his head, something Bakugou would always be able to use against him to push him down, bully him, and ridicule him. It would be a weak point, and he wouldn't have control over it. But, by taking it and changing how he perceives it, he's now able to fully shake off the negativity.
So it's not just that she's cute, or that Midoriya has no self respect. It's indicative of a new page in Midoriyas life. A time where he can be confident in himself and who he is, enough so to reclaim an insult and use it as a positive, and a time where he's not being brought down or bullied by people like Bakugou. The name "Deku" means so much more than that, and it's crazy that this person likened it to him not having self respect. It's the opposite, really.
I don't want to rag on this person too hard, since I can see where they're coming from, but it's such a surface level "analysis" of MHA and Midoriya that I really was surprised when I saw someone understood it that way.
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hxrsheykisses · 14 hours ago
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SMALL TALK 💋 | JERRY STOKES X MELISSA ORCHID♥️
This request was sent to me by @amazingbananabread !! I am SO excited to make my first request on here and I hope that it’ll encourage people to send in their own requests as well! So I hope you enjoy!♥️♥️♥️
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The atmosphere around the two teens was quiet but peaceful. The soft breeze hitting there face while they laid in the fresh green glass, gazing up at the sky with a sense of relief coursing through them. It was nice being able to escape the chaotic environment of the clubs that they were involved in. Sir felt nice to rewind and enjoy some peace and quiet for a bit.
“…How’s your club going?” Jerry asked, not moving his gaze away from the sky.
Mel let out a hum of acknowledgment. Her club with Lucy was doing good, the usual. Their club was somewhat different from Jerry’s club—his club members were…okay. They were foul mouthed teenagers who gatekeep fandom like it was a lifeline for them. She overheard many jocks talk about them in various manners that only spoke trouble so Mel took it upon herself to see if these guys were serious. She saw them around and to say the least—the jocks were right. They were nerve wracking and caused nothing but trouble to those around them.
“Mel?”
Mel blinked a few times, trying to register into reality. “Oh, sorry, spaced out…” She said sheepishly. “Uh, the club is going good. Same old, same old. Anything new happen in yours?”
Jerry shook his head. “Nope. Everyone has been theirselves.” He shrugged his shoulders. That seemed like the usual Eltingville Club thing.
Jerry was different. He wasn’t like none of his friends in Mel’s opinion. He stuck out the most to her. Jerry was an interesting person in this world that she isn’t quite used too yet and that made her want to know more about Jerry. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Whenever he was out with his group of “friends”, they would be spouting out nonsense and made sure that the whole block heard them while Jerry just stood back, hardly opening his mouth to form a sentence. Jerry was like a butterfly just collecting nectar in a world full of bugs.
Mel felt bad for Jerry. He wasn’t stuck with these “friends” of his and they didn’t seem to appreciate him like they should. It made her mad. If made her confused. It made her wonder why she cared so much.
“Jerry,” Mel started. She was surprised that her mouth fixed itself to say his name. “are we friends?” Now she was finally looking at the boy, her eyes looking at his face while her lips were pressed into a fine line. She didn’t know why she asked that. She didn’t know why she had the urge to ask.
Mel is a girl who Jerry likes. Jerry likes her, a lot. Jerry has seen her around before she even saw him. He has been stealing glances at her ever since she “moved” here. When he first saw her, he felt his world come to a halt for a good moment. At first, Jerry shrugged it off and continued on. Then, one glance turned into three. Three turned into six. Six then turned into twenty. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She was so alluring, so pretty—he couldn’t help himself other than to admire her from afar.
Even being this close to a girl like Mel was too much for him.
Mel was a lot different from Bill, Josh, and Pete. Mel actually listened to his nonstop rants on fantasy—and she took it all in. She didn’t cut him off, she didn’t tell him to shut up—she just…listened. It made Jerry feel all hot, it made him feel like he was on Cloud Nine. With Mel, he could rant on and on and on.
Thats why those words left his mouth.
Jerry slowly looked over at Mel, coming in contact with her dark brown eyes that reminded Jerry of the milk chocolate candies he’d see at Seven-Eleven. He took in all of the “imperfections” that he deemed perfect in his eyes. Her face was littered with pimples, her eyes looked too far apart, her lips were thin—and yet he loved it all. He loved seeing her face. He loved seeing her.
“Of course we are, Mel’s,” Jerry spoke, a small smile crept up to his face. His ears got red. “you are a fun person to be around and you have some pretty cool interests. You should talk about them more. You—You really should! I-I would love to hear about all of them! I want to hear all of it! I…”
Crap. He overstepped it a bit too much…
Jerry’s face now became a full blown pink color as he looked away bashfully, feeling his heart race rapidly. His hands got clammy, his clothes felt tight, it felt hotter outside, he felt…weird. It was this weird tangy feeling inside of him. Jerry quickly added in an awkward, “Bidi Bidi Bidi” before immediately closing his mouth.
Mel nodded her head slowly, trying to contain her feelings despite it feeling like she was going to explode. She felt…whole. She felt free. She felt like herself.
Jerry never said anything bad about her interests. Like how she self ships herself with some 2D characters, rants about fanfics she found online, the X Readers she simps over, how she has some issues with her asshole dad or her stupid anger issues that she desperately tries to keep control of…
He loved her through it all. With no hesitation. Either no second guesses.
“Good.” Was what she said, a smile forming on her lips as she rested her hands on her stomach. It went back to solace again as the moment replayed like a song that Mel couldn’t move away from.
She needs to do this more often . . . 💋
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queen-of-hawkins-why-ler · 7 hours ago
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When you bring up the lack of attraction that Mike demonstrates towards women, the Milkvans of reddit will say shit like, "Mike is Elsexual," "Mike chose El from the very beginning," "Mike loved El from the moment he saw her" etc. etc. and I just have to laugh bc even Mike himself says that this isn't true lmfao. "It wasn't fate. It wasn't destiny. It was simple dumb luck."
The difference between Mike's relationship with El and his relationship with Will is CHOICE. Mike chose alright, and he chose WILL and continues to choose Will again and again. What makes Mike and El's relationship special is that Mike didn't choose El. El showed up at his doorstep at a time when she was vulnerable and endangered, and Mike took her in and loved and accepted her unconditionally. Will, on the other hand, didn't stumble into Mike's life. From the very beginning, he was hand-picked: "So I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes. You said yes. It was the best thing I've ever done."
There has yet to be a time in the series when Mike chooses El over Will for more than a temporary amount of time. In s1, Mike cares for El, but his priority is always finding Will, even to the point at which he is willing to defame El and decimate his relationship with her when he believes her to be responsible for bad things happening to Will. In s2, Mike is always at Will's side, even sleeping next to him and constantly wanting to protect Will from the harm others are trying to cause him. In s3, Max says that Mike will "come crawling back" to El after the fight, but Mike actually ends up ignoring his conflict with El so that he can go apologize to and mend his relationship with Will. Similar thing happens in s4. He seems to "choose" El initially in Lenora, but he spends the rest of the season rekindling and nurturing his relationship with Will. Will Will Will. It's always been Will for him and it will always be Will.
Milkvans really have an easier time believing that Mike is a heterosexual boy who magically, whimsically, mysteriously is only attracted to one girl he met when he was twelve years old than that he MIGHT be not be 100% straight. It's bizarre bc what they're proposing would be so much more unusual than Mike just being queer. Like, us Bylers, we believe that Mike is in love with Will, but we don't deny Mike his sexuality and pretend that he's only ever been allowed to feel attraction for Will lmao. Take one look at that boy in s4 and it's so easy to tell that he is a gay disaster who likes putting posters of muscly men on his walls and watching men get sweaty and wrestle each other. That little shit is GAYYYYY as hell, in love with Will or not. But you expect me to believe that Mike is a HETEROSEXUAL boy who does not experience any feelings or attraction to any girl besides El??? Now THAT would be infinitely more of a stretch and more unusual than Mike just being gay or bi. Allo cisheterosexual men aren't exactly known for displaying a lack of attraction or horniness towards women. Even if El WERE the only person Mike ever experiences attraction towards, it would be a stretch atp to call Mike allo and cishet. He'd be ace-spec or demisexual and probably still roped into the queer umbrella lmao. But that's a narrative that the Milkvans are equally uncomfortable with bc they'd rather leap over the moon to conjecture that Mike, against all odds, logic, evidence, and reasoning, is an allo cisheterosexual man than admit that he is queer. Make it make sense.
But by all means, if y'all redditors want to push the ace-spec Mike agenda, please do so, I will support it. But something tells me that's not quite the case and that you'd rather live in this fantasy world where your perfectly good, perfectly allo cishet, perfectly conforming version of Mike Wheeler is exclusively, only attracted to El Hopper. In reality, Mike doesn't choose El and never did. He chooses and is demonstrably attracted to Will throughout the entire show.
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derschwabe08 · 18 hours ago
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Emi's Equivalent Exchange gift for @justablah56
Thank you to @emis-equivalent-exchange for organizing this very cool Secret Santa gift exchange!
This is a modern au fic in which Dani and VR-LA are out shopping for a Christmas gift for the kids of Finbar and Elyse (I went with twins because I couldn't decide on a gender). It probably isn't the best fic ever but I hope you enjoy it anyway :]
 “What about this?” VR-LA asked, holding up a set of cookware for children to play with and looking over at Dani. “I am pretty sure the twins will have at least a dozen of those anyway from other family members and besides-” 
A mischievous grin spread across her face “I have the perfect idea already!” Dani was holding up a box that showed a couple children playing various instruments including a drum set and a guitar with a big label saying “Baby’s first Rock Band.”. 
 “Finbar would murder us…” VR-LA said, though he couldn’t help but to smile a little as well. “And don’t you think the twins are a bit young for that? They’re only one year old!” 
“Ahhhh don’t worry about it! But if you’re soooooo sure that this is a bad idea, fine let’s keep looking-” Dani groaned half seriously, still smirking widely as the two of them continued onwards through the store. Christmas music was blasting from the speakers and every aisle was packed with people trying to find a last minute gift for their loved ones. Much like Dani and VR-LA, who were still looking for the perfect gift to give to Tamara and Carly, Finbar’s and Elyse’s little twins. 
“Now this would be a great gift!” VR-LA said holding up a little model of the solar system for kids that also functioned as a nightlight with an integrated music box “Educational, calming and age appropriate.”
“Oh my god, you are such a nerd…” Dani rolled her eyes teasingly. “Why don’t you just give them one of your text books even? It’s a Christmas gift - it’s supposed to be fun it doesn’t need to be educational!” 
“Excuse you, this is very fun!” VR-LA said, playfully stuck his tongue out at Dani. “I am definitely bringing this, but we can keep looking for something else as well. Noooooooo, we are not getting them electric motorcycles!” he added as he saw Dani turning towards the section with the kiddy vehicles with a wide grin on her face.
 “God, you really are no fun are you?” Dani laughed. “How else will they learn to be just as cool as their aunt Dani?” 
 “You say that as if it would be a good thing…” VR-LA teased, shrugging. “I guess I should be happy you didn’t suggest a real motorcycle.”
 “Oooooo, you’re right that would be even better!” The grin on Dani’s face got even wider as she playfully punched his shoulder and continued walking towards the plushie section. VR-LA simply sighed and shook his head with a grin of his own as he followed her. 
“NOW THIS - is a proper gift!” If Dani’s boots hadn’t been peeking out between the legs of the massive teddy bear VR-LA would have walked right past and searched for where Dani was hiding. She pushed aside the head of the giant plushie and grinned at her best friend like it was already Christmas and she was the one opening gifts. “And it even comes with different bows so we can get one for each of them!” 
 “Yeah you are right, that is a great gift! Even if they can use them as beds. ” VR-LA laughed heartily as he picked up the second bear and disappeared behind it. 
 They lugged both of the bears to the check out, drawing a couple weird glances without noticing them. “Any idea how to wrap these?“ VR-LA asked once they had somehow stuffed the two giant bears into the backseat of his car.
“Lots and lots of wrapping paper, a metric ton of tape and of course a nice sprinkle of mad genius by me!” Dani said with a wide grin.
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echoflowerwhispers · 2 days ago
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HUMAN and GODS/DIVINE AU I made a year ago
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@scri--bble @sokemysty sorry guys but this was all I found in my secret stash of old drawings 😔
The human is Killer and the demon thing is Nightmare (idk why his eye magically came back in the first drawing he isn't supposed to have it lmao)
Ranting under the cut
I remember the plot was that Killer (in university) summoned a demon as a joke thinking nothing of it and then Nightmare showed up. Nightmare was basically bound by contract to fulfill the wish of the person who summoned him so he couldn't leave so Killer made the most of it. His wishes where to 1 not get kicked out of uni for his bad grades 2 not to kill himself until the end of the year and 3 to get a partner before the end of the year (???). Nightmare decided that was too complicated and Killer would have to give him something in return. The thing Nightmare wanted was for Killer to chop the oldest tree in the forest (cuz Dream trapped Nightmare's power inside it or smth idk).
Anyway Nightmare decides to turn himself into a human and go to the same uni as Killer cuz that would make it easier to help Killer with his grades or smth idk. But then Dream realises Nightmare found someone to release him and also turned himself into a human and went to the uni to ensure Killer won't free Nightmare (and Cross is also there to guard Dream).
They eventually have a confrontation in the bathrooms (because that's normal??) And it's revealed that Cross used to be bound by a deal (like Killer is now) but Nightmare killed him when he didn't keep his end of the bargain. I think something more dramatic is supposed to happen cuz Killer then gets really upset and has a fight with Nightmare in which he decides to chop the tree (even tho Nightmare didn't do jack shit to keep his end of the deal) and he wants to do it to get rid of Nightmare but when he actually tries to chop the tree he realises Nightmare can feel the pain of the tree so he doesn't chop it completely (despite Nightmare telling him to finish the job). Anyway he gets sad cuz he doesn't want to hurt Nightmare cuz he's like his only friend or whatever.
Nightmare then helps Killer actually get what he wanted but when the end of year comes and Killer still doesn't have a partner and Nightmare kisses him (???) And they become partners ig??? And Dream frees Nightmare cuz he was good or smth???
...
Yeah idk what i was thinking when I made this lmao
Anyway if yall want maybe we could remake the AU ✨️together✨️ but I'd be fine with forgetting this ever even happened lmao
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kagoutiss · 9 months ago
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mystery man but he was asleep and you scared him
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soup-is-here · 3 months ago
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Mouthwashing Spoilers
TW: Addiction and Self Harm
I wanna go on about Swansea's final monologue but it's hard to put into words, but I'm gonna try anyways cause it's a short, but strong story about autonomy again. This post ended up significantly longer than I wanted though
It's the autonomy to choose the "less healthy" option because it's appealing to you. It's the moral assignment to normality and stability. An alcoholic is an alcoholic by choice, technically, but do they owe us otherwise? Is it morally reprehensible to enjoy taking LSD at a party? Should we see someone as less than because they relax with a xanax instead of a hot shower? It's not healthy. We know that. We've seen anti-drug ad after ad after ad. But is that the part that's morally wrong, in and of itself? Does enjoying the drugs and chaos make Swansea a worse person?
Like him talking about his entire life and ending it by saying between the "stable" "normal" life and him waking up every morning with a new hangover, he preferred the latter. People always talk about getting clean and fixing their lives and Swansea did it! He did the thing "good men" do! A wife and kids and a trade job and sobriety! He was doing it! He was finally "worth" something!
And he hated it! I mean I don't know if he actually hated/despised it, but he misses his previous life. He misses drugs and partying and living like you might not wake up the next day. He said the thing that changed him was seeing himself dead in a ditch under the bright beam of a streetlight. Now he's looking down the barrel of a gun. And as he looks down it, he looks back. That was his preference. It felt good to be like that. And he wouldn't be here if he stayed there
We always have a narrative about drugs or gambling or sleeping around where a person suddenly realizes that they aren't "doing anything" with their life and becomes stable and it's always played like addiction is a false pleasure. Swansea got to the stability people said would be the real pleasure of life and that just wasn't true for him. One bad paycheck could've been the difference between his stable life and falling apart anyways. His lifestyle was going to kill him someday apparently, yet he's staring down the barrel of a gun at his steady trade job to feed his wife and kids.
I don't know quite how to word it but Swansea is the poster child for rehabilitation. There's this weight to him saying his alcoholic period was the best time of his life. Like it just hits at that pang that makes people wear DARE shirts while smoking weed and post those videos of smoking 100 cigarettes at once. Anti-vaping ads tell you about the damage they do to your body but everyone knows that already. Everyone knows "this is what your brain looks like on drugs." I smoke medical marijuana and it isn't good for my lungs but it's good for my pain. Doing drugs isn't good for me and I know that and that's sorta the point sometimes.
I don't know it's just this weird pang where I know what Swansea means, just not to nearly the same extent. I don't have an addiction so I don't think I could fully understand it. Maybe a better thing I could relate it to for myself is self harm. It's not healthy sure, but who do I owe health? Myself? Other people? And what is healthy? Is it feeling better now? Is it resisting now and feeling worse for it until it stops? What if the coping skills I learn make it worse? What if they make it better? Do I want it to get better? Does Swansea want to get better? What would better feel like to either of us?
Who knows until you try. Swansea got a collared shirt, a mortgage, and a credit card. He got a job and a wife and kids. He got sober. He got healthier, depending on your definition.
But did he feel better? He's looking down a barrel of a gun and he has to decide if he feels better. It doesn't seem like he regrets his new life. He says he wants his kids to be better than him. He wants good things to happen for them. He saw himself as one bad slip away from falling again. I don't think he felt better though. I think he got healthier. He likely would've ended up in the ditch he dreamt about, but we don't know that. We also don't know if that's what he'd prefer. But, we do know he got healthier, depending on your definition.
#mouthwashing#tw addiction#tw self harm#It got a little personal in the end but I keep watching that scene cause it reminds me of a convo with my therapist#It's been a lil under a year since I last self harmed#but he told me that things like addictions and self harm are tools#they're neutral actions that either make you feel better or worse#and that's usually up to the circumstances around the action rather than the act itself#Taking narcotics might fill you with shame or make you feel giddy. Maybe even both#Self harm can make you feel embarrassed but cathartic#That's unhealthy#now what?#There needs to be something to replace that feeling or you'll just crave it until you can't stand the feeling anymore#And sure you can talk about will and self control but why? Who are they doing this for? Themselves? Friends? Family?#Cause there's so many factors that can make that difference and sometimes the answer is 'No one'#So you crave and is that healthier? I'm not saying to self harm again or break your sobriety#But there's gotta be something to replace it. AA and NA use a higher power and ppl use nicotine gum for smoking#Essentially what I'm saying is that it's not the end of the world to enjoy your addiction#Is it unhealthy? Absolutely. Wounds can get infected and drugs can be laced or you can OD#But is it morally wrong for Swansea to say those were the best days of his life?#Is it wrong for him to live the sober life and decide he preferred his alcoholism?#My therapist doesn't want me to harm myself. He'd prefer for me to learn new coping skills to replace it. And I did#The urges still come up for me sometimes. He says they come up for him too. Less so. But they do#He says a relapse could happen. What's wrong with that? You just start over with a new goal and a new skill. And if that skill is worse?#Well that original tool is there until you get a new one. It's not great but it feels better than a new bad tool#And maybe it's okay to fiddle with that old tool if you don't wanna bother with a new one again
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hellonerf · 5 months ago
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i love crazy contrasting 1p2p in every way(not every way). so i always subconsciously have 2P rusame be friends. unlikely friends etc. in whatever weird school au theyre friends. meri was probably bullied until he started hissing at other kids or something while rus2 was just like huhh okay yeah okay what fine. rus2 found him in a broom closet and it was as awkward as it sounds. in the weird stuckin1Pcoldwar au i have theyre friends also in the torturous existence. 1P rusame is too weird life is too short lets tomodachi✌️
#in comparison 1p rusame would be school insane psychological games social competition nerds MID OFF#2ptalia#i like the jp fanart where 2p ame is pitiful and gloomy. its cute#a little wannabe edgy but spare him he was left in the rain in a cardboard box when he was 2 years old.#i keep imagining a gay school au sorry. im gonna say shit now#rus2 is blunt and kind of. bad at reading signals. accidentally drags him and meri into karaoke with ame(enigmatic popular kid)#meri is like fuck my life... but he has a killer bitch face so people are like uwaa scary... hes brooding...#rus2 is like ah sorry i forgot you never had a normal teen friendship and clung onto (nada) all the time#meri is always coping like these people... dont get it... hes half right#they go to karaoke and ame sings really off key#actually i have a common daydream where ame's elusiveness is really funny to meri#he's like hahahaha what the hell that kids crazy ahahaha. like laughing at a cartoon#and then somehow he keeps being approached by ame (slow trying to step away) hes like noo... i dont actually wanna get close to u at all...#meri and rus2 probably play observers theyre quiet kids who go hmm im nooticing!#observing 1p rusames weirdship that everybody can see but they don't think anyone notices their crazyship#and rus2 is like oh two people talking and interacting alot. theyre friends. its just like a rivalry thing yeah?#while meri is like fuckkk the fucking golden boy is talking to us when ame talks to them rus2 is like#why dont you invite (rusia) to the karaoke arent you two friends#(ame mania face turns around)#okay thats all i got bye
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sysig · 2 months ago
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Still a thief at heart, stealing kisses (Patreon)
#Doodles#Gintama#Otose-san#Catherine#Gintoki#Are there any Otose/Catherine fans out there........Does anyone out there ship the old lady and her stray cat..........please.......#They're So cute weh their friendship is genuinely so wholesome I love them#I can't imagine why I'd be drawn to them it's a mystery#It's actually quite funny to me watching Gintama Now vs. when it came out#I definitely would've enjoyed it at the time! I can see it being a formative piece of me had I know about it then haha#But because it wasn't the way I engage with it now is very different - even without having experienced it I Know how it would've gone down#Hijikata/Ginchan are the obvious rivalship which was my Favourite at the time - then reevaluating later into polyshipping etc. etc. lol#I like Ginchan with Katsura and Zenzo as well to a degree :)#But really it's these two I ship so much...#I do think it's especially funny how they're used for comedy relief like ''Who would want to see these two as the main characters!''#Me I would I am raising my hand I love that they're actually friends and enjoy each other's company and like working together#They're not Cute in that fanservice kind of way - Otose-san is very pretty and elegant <3 And her voice is deep and gravely!#And Catherine's a petty asshole haha she's great ♪ She ignores others intentions on purpose to her own ends!#But she also might just actually be a bit dumb? She's very silly haha - and like I said they seem to really complement each other!#Ginchan really what were you hoping to get out of such a question lol#For a first time drawing him it's not so bad but his hair really is...something#I saw the how-to guide! I held it in mind! The amount of fluff is both too much and not enough...gotta make him soft-fluffier....#Also a bit funny to just me since for a bit I really did think Otose-san might've been Gin's mom lol#With how many scrappy little troublemakers she ends up adopting she might as well be! She's just too soft-hearted ♪#And he protects her because she's important to him too! It's sweet <3 Of course he'd want to watch out for her#She's doing fine lol - ewww grownups kissing hahaha
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thebirdandhersong · 1 year ago
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well mark that down as situation 2938489 that I don't know how to handle
#i would love advice on this if y'all have any thoughts to share because i know what my parents think and im having trouble sorting it out#i love these three friends of mine but it is really draining to be around them now because all they will talk about is church drama#(re: our old church) and rehashing it all and being Outraged about the horrors etc etc#either that or being downright condescending about protestants/non denominations and acting like it's funny to talk like that all the time#i end up being more angry or resentful or exasperated at the end of our conversations than glad and at peace like i did before#(before all THIS ish happened and the three of them were like okay this is all we're going to talk about now)#i've tried to say in gentle ways (i am simply not capable of this kind of blunt confrontation) that maybe we should not be talking#so uncharitably towards other people especially behind their backs. like. yes bad things happened. we have to acknowledge that.#but continually making jokes and jibes at a priest's expense really rubs me the wrong way especially since i KNOW that he loves us#and in many ways was trying his best in the circumstances. and are we not supposed to be loving our neighbour#and is this not downright slander to keep going on this way esp since it goes on for HOURS at a time#anyway i don't know what to DO because if i keep chatting with them/meeting up with them conversation will be 90% this thing and i Hate It#but on the other hand i feel responsibility towards them because my godson's one of them and another is a friend who is a fairly recent#convert and if i leave them to stew in their own echo chamber i doubt it'll do them good#am i supposed to keep some distance? am i supposed to keep arguing whenever one of them says something unkind or inflammatory?#am i supposed to keep speaking up so that they hear a different perspective? am i supposed to run in the other direction for my own peace o#mind? anyway i am still thinking this over and it stresses me OUT#it used to be fun and life giving to be around these people and now it is so exhausting and seriously alarming in many ways
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