#Floor Protector

[oho-tamil-channel]

Transform your space with confidence using the best paint for cement floors.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Genuinely can someone explain to me why screen protectors are such garbage these days?! In the last year every one I’ve used on my phone has cracked within days or weeks. I changed the one on my phone now on Sunday and it’s already done!!! I’ve tried the cheap ones, I’ve tried the more expensive ones, they’re all the same!!! Ugh.

[erwinsvow]

something about the idea of john price stalking you makes my brain addled

[idiotsonlyevent]

it's kind of crazy to me that 10a and 10b complement each other, but i haven't seen anyone talk about it like at all. and even outside of that, i've barely seen anyone mention Anything about 10b 🤧

[gatorguardca]

United States Carpet Floor Protection & Protector Roll

Gator Guard offers premium carpet floor protection in the USA. We guarantee the longevity of our builders' carpet protector and carpet protector roll goods. Purchase high-quality carpet protection items right now.

[foldingfittedsheets]

The mattress company I worked for the first time no longer exists. It was long ago eaten and assimilated by a bigger company. But when I started it was an incredibly intense five weeks of training. I was told I was extremely lucky to be selected, and I was. From a pool of a hundred applicants only fifteen of us made the cut to entering the training program.

The course covered how to talk to customers, how to ask open ended questions, how to close a sale, and product knowledge. I learned a lot, and truthfully my greatest takeaway was a lot of social scripts that I could use in other areas of my life.

We also had a midterm exam and a final. Both included a roleplay element with a trainer and a written portion. They told us when we started that the course was challenging but it was still a shock to come in after the midterm and realize half the class had failed.

I was named valedictorian of training- a dubious honor as it meant I’d done the best in the class, but popular lore had it that valedictorians struggled the most on the sales floor. Lo, I struggled.

Not because I wasn’t good. I was. But because my manager set out to systematically destroy my self esteem. Every sale, every interaction I had was scrutinized and criticized.

If I sold a bed with protectors, moveable base, and pillows he’d ask why I hadn’t managed to sell pillow protectors too. His first trainee had thrived on being challenged and he’d never bothered to learn a different way to coach.

It was wretched. My performance started strong but nosedived after a few weeks with him. My trainer, a man I loathed for stonewalling me in my interview, came in to inform me I was on new hire probation. If I couldn’t get my sales numbers up I’d be let go.

His actual phrasing was, “When you have a bandaid do you like to rip it off or pull it slowly?”

Since it was eminently obvious why he was visiting and because I thought it was condescending I sweetly informed him that I liked to soak my bandaids in hot water so they come off on their own.

He was briefly startled at this derailing but then got on with the bad news. I signed some forms stating that I understood my job was in peril.

I went home furious. I thought long and hard about why I wasn’t succeeding and how frustrated I was with my manager. I came in the next day and my anger had crystallized into a cold sharp edge.

My manager opened his mouth to address the probation and I snapped, “Just leave me alone. Go in the back if I have a sale. If you must address a serious issue then you will give me praise on two things I did right and present it as a compliment sandwich. Otherwise just say good job and shut up. Your constant nitpicking just makes me anxious and I do worse. Back off.” Belated and begrudging I added, “Please.”

He raised his eyebrows in dim surprise but I’d gauged him well. He backed off. Dutifully he’d meander into the back when I had a sale and praised me when I closed it. I resented knowing it was only because I’d demanded complimented but they still boosted me up. My numbers skyrocketed, I landed my first split king sale, and I exited probation with flying colors.

The trainer came back in to congratulate my manager for turning things around. To my gratification he gave me credit for setting him straight and said I’d taught him a different way to lead. My manager would often genuinely praise that moment when I’d stood up to him, impressed with my stubborn refusal to fail and my insight into what would help.

My biggest takeaway from the whole thing was just that people need positive reinforcement to succeed. Praise people for doing a good job. If you’re ever in a position where you need to criticize someone put it in a compliment sandwich instead of just saying the negative.

[ebodebo]

a continuation!

-

imagine your ex-boyfriend being so annoying, spamming your phone, and randomly showing up at your apartment, begging you to give him yet another chance.

at first, you felt pity for the guy.

even thought of letting him in a couple of times.

you didn't, but the guilt that gnawed at your throat nearly became too much to bare.

your hand drifted eerily close to the handle as you heard his pleas through your door.

the only thing that made you come back to reality was the pounding of a broom stick on the floor beneath, shouting for the man to shut the fuck up.

that was some days ago, but now, instead of feeling pity or guilt, you’re starting to feel just plain creeped out.

scared he might act on impulse and break into your apartment in the depths of the night.

you're sleeping has taken a plummet, even with a knife by your bed, nothing seems to coax you into relaxation.

that is, until you have the brilliant idea to go next door to your tall, scary, military neighbor, who goes by simon.

you don't know his last name; hell you barely knew his first.

the only reason you knew it was because you heard some girl he brought home moan it through your thin connecting walls.

you felt guilty as you pulled out your small vibrator, goading your sweet release as you heard him groan and curse with every harsh thrust.

even the guilt that swirled in your stomach couldn’t take away the guttural effects he was having on your body, even from so far away.

you ducked your head, avoiding his gaze from then on, until one day, while having trouble unlocking your apartment door, he trudged to your door after examining you for a moment, gently scooting you away and fixing it right before your eyes.

you claimed he was a magician.

he chuckled, deep and gruff, before his name fell off his tongue in greeting, making your thighs clench together.

you hurriedly introduced yourself, before rushing into your apartment, shutting the door behind you, and sinking onto the ground with a deep sigh and hot skin.

pathetic, really.

but, he didn't mind.

he thought you were cute—odd but cute—and you brought him cookies the next day as a thank you, so how could he think ill of you?

so if anyone could help you, it was simon.

“hey, neighbor,” you greet him when he opens the door. he is wearing a simple black long sleeve shirt and dark cargo pants.

he nods towards you. “hello.”

you smile brightly at him, somewhat forgetting your dilemma.

he tilts his head to the side, quipping a brow. “any particular reason you’re here?” he asks, voice rough as always.

you rock on your heels, fidgeting with your fingers. “i need your help.”

he leans against the doorframe. “go on.”

“i’m sure you’ve heard that guy that comes around,” you start, watching his squinted eyes.

“who hasn’t? that bastard is always here,” he says gruffly.

“he’s my ex,” you admit, cringing.

simon stiffens, eyes opening wider slightly.

“he’s, uh… become an issue. he won’t leave me alone, and i’m scared he’s going to break into my apartment while i’m sleeping,” you say, shaking your head, the tension in your voice evident.

“he’s not going to do that,” he shrugs.

your eyes widen at his dismissal, feeling slightly hurt. “how do you know?”

he turns to grab a backpack off a hook beside him. “because i’ll be there. won’t let him through the door,” he casually mutters as he steps out of his apartment, closing it behind him.

you feel a flutter in your stomach at his taking on the role of your protector so quickly—no enticement necessary.

“i really appreciate it, simon.” your voice is full of gratitude.

“don’t mention it, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, heading towards your door. “key?” he asks, reaching for your painted key hanging around your neck.

you hurriedly lean forward, mind completely fogging at the endearment.

his lip quips as he tugs the key up and over your head to unlock the door.

once he unlocks the door, he pushes the door wide open, stepping aside for you to go in first.

“and they say chivalry is dead,” you can’t help but joke as you slip in, a teasing glint in your eye.

he matches your humorous smile with one of his own. “do they? hadn’t heard that,” he murmurs, closing the door as he steps in.

you spin your head away from his gaze, opting to stare at a lonesome flower pot with a dumb grin on your face.

the next two hours are spent lazing until you find yourself on the cushion right next to simon on the couch as he occasionally glanced at the door, while you picked and prodded at reality show stars on the television screen.

But you and simon both stiffen when you hear the familiar hard knock on the front door, followed by a strained male voice pleading.

you look at simon who's already stalking over to the door; you uncross your legs and walk behind him.

with annoyance, simon pulls open the door, and you see your ex’s face whiten and his body sag at the sight. “can we help you?” simon gruffs, cocking a brow at his pathetic demeanor.

your ex stammers, stumbling over his words as he looks between you and simon. “who the fuck are you?” your ex demands, though not daring to try and overpower simon because simon easily has fifty pounds and eight inches over him.

simon crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging bigger as he does so. “you should lose this address,” he urges, voice so gruff and commanding it sends shivers down your spine. “i don’t take too kindly to guys stalking my girlfriend,” he says with an ease that makes you lick your drying lips.

“girlfriend?” your ex chokes out, unable to comprehend what he is hearing.

“that’s what i said, isn’t it?” simon almost sounds disinterested.

your ex’s eyes wander to you. “you're dating this guy?” he almost sounds hurt.

you shift under his gaze, feeling awkward.

“don't talk to her. talk to me,” simon interjected, feeling your unease.

“you can’t—you aren’t dating,” your ex begins, narrowing his eyes. “you’re just doing this to make me jealous, aren’t you?” there is venom behind his words that pisses simon off.

simon’s lips flatline, and just as you go to speak, simon turns his head, hand coming to cup your jaw to kiss you deeply, possessively.

your ex releases a short breath as the sight.

simon’s tongue moves across to skim your teeth, making you whine into his mouth, as his fingers tangle in your hair for deeper contact.

you release a shallow whimper of protest as simon pulls back, enjoying the sight of your ex so shell-shocked.

simon tilts his head forward, looking into his eyes intently. “this is my girl, and if i find out you’ve been botherin’ her, i’ll make you a dead man. you hear me?” his voice is so lethal it makes you squirm, but in a completely different way than your ex.

your ex’s eyes look like saucers as he nods his head fervently.

“good choice. now leave,” simon instructs.

without another word, your ex spins on his heels, looking like a hurt lamb as he leaves the complex.

simon lets out a dry laugh as he shuts the door behind him.

“thank you,” you murmur.

he gives you a brief smile, gesturing for you to sit back on the couch. you both go back to lazing around, now watching some cooking show you put on.

later that night, he insisted on setting up shop in your living room for the night… or just the next two!

it’s really not a big deal.

he just wouldn’t be able to continue on if something happened to his cute neighbor!

that’s all.

you’re so sweet and still shaken up by the interaction that you let him stay the night.

…and the next one.

…and the one after that.

you’re starting to think he never really counted on staying just one night.

you don’t say anything, but after the second week passes and simon is still around, you find yourself reeling as you start to see his socks and shirts tucked nicely in your drawers.

his coffee mug now kisses yours in the cabinet, and some magnets of the countries he’s visited cling to the fridge.

there isn’t a crevice in your apartment that simon hasn’t explored, or left a piece of himself in.

you should have known better than to invite simon into the same place he had fantasized about for the past six months.

the very place where he listened to your sweet moans, so loud, so tempting.

every. single. night.

he kicked his friends out of his place every time he heard your vibrator start up, so that they couldn’t listen to your breathy whines and so he could sneak away to his room, where your thin walls meet, to tug away at his cock imagining it was you stroking him until he came all over his hand and sheets.

such a sweet girl, you are.

letting a dog into your home to roam free, unaware of the way he watched you with a slobbering tongue and a primal hunger.

oh, sweetheart, you never stood a chance.

[m4rs-ex3]

HOW COULD I FORGET

legs hurt for no reason

THE SHEETS ARE FUCKED UP AAAAAAAAAA

possible reasons for when i cannot sleep

jammed out too hard before bed

this bed ain't beddin

too low on the pillow

too high on the pillow

hair is on my neck

nothing good on in the fictional scenario department

dog chose the incorrect spot to sleep

hair is on my neck

thinking thoughts

the fact i might get up tomorrow

weighted blanket isn't enough i need a hydraulic press

HAIR IS ON MY NECK

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 | hwang in-ho

( gif credits to @lalaray )

—summary: for some reason, player 001 seems to like you a little too much, way more than you think. amongst the chaos after the mingle game, he gets closer to you. —pairing: hwang in-ho/young-il/player 001 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —warnings: bro has a lot of names, +18, smut !!! (minors dni), most definitely ooc!in-ho, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight voyeurism? (a guard outside the bathroom listening all the tea💀), sub in-ho!!!, obsessive, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, slight manipulation, in-ho being a slut for the reader, they want each others bodies so bad, panic attack, blood, killing, yk usual squid game stuff.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ✶ part one ── part two

The first thing you saw were Young-il's eyes, and then you sensed his hands resting on your shoulders, a subtle touch but one that struck your entire core, sending shivers up and down your spine, snapping you out of the trance of shock, drawing you back to reality and back to him.

“Hey, hey, shhh...” he spoke softly, leaning close to you, making all you focused on was him, his voice, his eyes, the way his lips uttered your name. Him, him, him...

“Young-il?” you breathed out, matching your respiration to his ever-calm one.

He nodded his head slightly, his fingers stroking your shoulders soothingly. “You're okay. You did so good. It's over now” his soft whispers felt like an anchor back to earth, anchors you were clinging to with all your might.

“I got you” he assured you, helping you to your feet again. It was only then that you noticed that you were still in the room set of the third game, there was only you and him left in the arena, and the multitude of bodies sprawled around the bloodstained floor, of course. Noticing your gaze drift to the dead people, his hand lifted to your chin, standing right in front of you to block your field of vision and reduce it to just him, his serene face and piercing eyes, “Just look at me, angel. Keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah?”

He delicately pleaded you, his thumb tracing patterns of grazing caresses on the skin of your chin, treating you as carefully as possible. 

And you complied, of course, succumbing to the gentle darkness contained within his eyes. Like a little lamb falling into the wolf's trap.

“There you are,” a little, honest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

A couple of guards were standing near you, watching you in silence and strangely, allowing Young-il to comfort and help you during your panic attack. The first one you had since you had arrived in the horrifying place, you hadn't cracked once, holding a tough and fearless armor.

“You are safe with me. Nothing will happen to you,” his other hand moved down from your shoulder through your arm, igniting a warm flush on your skin under the passage of his palm, all the way down to encounter yours, his fingers intertwining between yours. “I'll make sure of that, okay?”

You merely manage a trembling nod, holding his gaze. His reassuring, gentle demeanor was all you needed at that moment, in that strange place, full of strangers, he seemed to be the only familiar sight to you, the light among all the ruthless darkness. And his face, exuding concern, completely captured your heart.

Young-il offered you that one protector figure you always needed, that someone to rely on and trust even in your darkest moments.

“Come with me, please” one of the guards, the one with a square outlined on his mask, interrupted your moment, stepping up beside you, his gun pointed at the ground and not at either of you, thank goodness. His voice held a diplomatic, yet polite tone, glancing at the two of you. Young-il glanced at him with a scowl on his face, not too happy that the guard had popped onto the scene, apparently, his gaze went ice cold in the span of a millisecond, “Sir, miss, you need to go back to the main room with the other players.”

“The lady needs to freshen up a bit, could I accompany her to the bathrooms?” Young-il asked— no, rather, he actually demanded of the armed guard, his demeanor shifting to an authoritative one, straightening up and looking at the masked man with imposing eyes.

The guard looked from Young-il to you and back to him, finally nodding his head just once after a few seconds of contemplation, looking at him too long, nearly as if he was considering Young-il's expression, “Of course. Come with me, please.”

You did not decide to comment on the strange behavior of the guard, even they had been acting like human beings, empathetic and considerate. You really couldn't think of anything much at all, all you could focus on was Young-il's hand placed on your lower back as you walked together through the winding, ridiculously colorful corridors and staircases inside the seemingly infinite building.

His touch had your mind a fuzzy blur and the panic and self-doubt in your veins had already been well forgotten, replaced by a state of constant flushing, feeling so small next to him. The feeling was a good one, though. Definitely.

Ever since you had met him he had seemed to have a special liking for you, always making sure you were safe and secure, putting you above the others, making you feel protected and seen. Before every game he made sure he stayed by your side, willing to take whatever risks were necessary for both of you to come out of it alive. Gi-hun had told you a couple of times that he liked you, much more than a friend, but you refused, huffing that it wasn't the place to think about that, much less regarding a man who was married, supposedly. The two of you had really bonded so well, as if you had somehow known each other for a very long time before this.

Once you were in the bathrooms, Young-il closed the door behind both of you, leaving the square guard just outside, and then guided you towards the sinks, opening one so you could take a sip of water.

“Let me...” he quietly whispered, rolling up the sleeves of his turquoise tracksuit and soaking his hands for a few seconds before raising them to your face, running his fingers gently across your cheekbones, removing traces of blood droplets that had been lucky enough to land on your skin, he thought to himself. For some reason, everything felt more intimate than it should have.

You stood in silence, watching him with big, attentive eyes as he wiped your face delicately, as if your skin were the finest porcelain. All that could be heard for a few moments was the water running from the sink and the thundering beat of your heart, desperate to flee out of your chest and leap into his.

“Young-il?”

“Hm?” he hummed, very much focused on cleaning your face, his countenance encouraged you to ask him anything you wanted, it was peaceful and gentle.

“Why do you care so much about me?” you dared to ask him, in a low tone, brave enough to hold his gaze, which softened at your question.

He held back his hands, pulling them away from your face very slowly, analyzing your flushed face for a few moments, contemplating an answer.

“You're special. Very different from the others.”

Young-il sympathized with you, with your history, your person. Usually when he looked at you, he saw his old self, from before all this. He saw in you the good side of things, your good heart, your innocence and kindness, you were much more than a pretty face. He could see past your usual gloomy and pouty face, past your sharp and too cunning eyes, you were too much for that place. And that's why he intended to take you out of there and keep you with him, to have you by his side to care for you and provide for you.

He was excited about the idea of getting to know you further, like a new game in which he had to crack his way through. And In-ho, he was good at games.

You blushed slightly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Special?”

Young-il spun around, allowing you to see his side profile as he washed his hands in the sink, concealing the impulse to smirk as he noticed the immediate effect his words had on you. He had you right where he wanted you. 

Now he wasn't wearing his usual dark mask, capable of covering his each and every emotion, no, now his expressions and gestures were for everyone to see, so he had to try a little harder than usual to be cautious. As you too were very careful and cautious, always attentive to your surroundings, you had figured out the objective of the last games as soon as you arrived at the arenas. It had been a record, no other player had been as interesting and quick-witted as you. You only needed a couple of minutes, a scan through the walls, the equipment brought by the guards, and you already had the answer. You were a prodigy. Not even he knew what you were doing in there to begin with, when you should have been in the best university.

You would definitely be a favorite of the filthy V.I.P.'s and that, for some reason, made him uneasy.

“Mhm...” he hummed once again, wetting his face now, refreshing himself as well, thoughtfully, “That makes you dangerous.”

His eyes held a slight playfulness as they met yours now, and his pupils expanded as he watched you step closer to him, unwrapping your sweatshirt from around your waist and lifting it up to his face, gently wiping and drying his skin with it, running the cloth carefully over his cheekbones, forehead and chin, drying every drop of water, sweat and blood that rolled across his skin.

“Why?” you tilted your head, big, interested eyes watching him intently as you carefully wiped his cheeks.

Young-il gazed at you for a few seconds, feeling himself swooning at the careful way you were treating him. He cleared his voice subtly before replying to you, in all honesty, “You're the only one I care about in here.”

Usually In-ho encountered with people who looked at him with fear, with trembling hands, hesitant voice and submissive manners. Most guards were like that with him, he was the Front Man after all. Just a movement of his fingers, a word emitted by his voice, was enough for the whole building to move at his command, for anyone to race to do what he ordered.

But you... you simply reached out to him, touched him, treated him with care, with gentleness and softness, looking at him with warm and sympathetic eyes.

“No other person makes me feel both weak and strong” he rasped out, quietly, his warm breath brushing against your lips, which gaped at his words, his choice of words, “That's dangerous for a man like me”

You motioned to pull your hand away from his face, but he was quick to grab your wrist, stopping the movement.

“Young-il, you're married, I can't—” you hurriedly opted to go the right way, trying to talk some sense into him, shaking your head softly, blinking several times within a single minute. Your heart was already starting to beat faster and he could feel it through his thumb placed on your pulse.

He shook his head, seeking your gaze, his fingers gently squeezing your wrist, not wanting you to move too far away from him.

“I'm not married. I lied” he revealed to you, almost desperately. There was no reason for him to lie to you on that, because he knew that you were someone he could trust, and that everything that was going to happen there, would remain within those walls. A little complicity. A minor crack in the script, in the whole scheme that he had been working on for weeks.

You let him grab your wrist and the jacket of the tracksuit you had previously held in your hand fell to the floor, making a muffled noise that echoed off the quiet walls of the bathrooms. Your brow furrowed slightly, not understanding what he was talking about now.

“You lied? Why?” you asked in a low tone, as if anyone could hear you. It seemed, at least it felt like too private and all too intimate a conversation for anyone to overhear.

“I didn't want to push you away and scare you with my... life resolutions” Young-il lowered your hand now joined with his, looking at you with brighter eyes than usual, “It was the wiser thing to do.”

“Resolutions?” all you appeared to be doing was asking and asking, and In-ho, right there and then, was willing to answer all you wanted to know. Your tone of voice drifted into playfulness, void of judgment or disgust, on the contrary, you reassured him, “All of us here have made bad choices in our lives, that's why we're here. We're all the villains of society”

“Villains...” he repeated, savoring the word and approving it with a gentle nod of his head. Then he tugged on your hand, lifting it to his face, placing an affectionate kiss on your knuckles, doing all of that while keeping eye contact, “But you're not bad, not like them, not like me. You're just so good, angel.” There was the petname again, and it held the exact same effect as when he first called you that, making you blush softly, your legs trembling just barely, your core reacting instantly, your body succumbing to his, longing for him.

His fingers caressed the palm of your hand tenderly, “You have no blood on your pretty hands, no perversity in your little head, no, you're a good girl. You always have been, right?”

He read you like an open book, even though you had been cautious and reserved since the games had begun, you had not let anyone in, much less pass over the walls you had built around yourself. Yet in the span of a few minutes, Young-il had ripped them apart, tearing his way through them, into you.

You caught a glimpse of pity in his eyes.

“You don't have a debt, you just don't have anyone out there waiting for you, to take care of you, provide for you” At his words, you gulped, watching him kiss your knuckles once again, making your heart race, then his lips kissed your pulse on your wrist, and after that, he tugged you closer, placing your palm against his chest, making you feel the beat of his heart as well, “I could be the one. I could take care of you, protect you, give you everything you want. There wouldn't be anything I wouldn't do for you and those eyes. You'd just have to stick by my side, look pretty for me, hm?”

In-ho had been watching you, of course, ever since you had met Gon Ji-cheol in the subway, ever since you had encountered Gi-hun. He knew your life completely, he had grown obsessed with you. You were everything he needed, everything he wanted, the missing piece in his new life. The anchor he desperately needed, yearned to hold on to.

And to your flesh he clung, his lips making a path of light, but tentative kisses on the back of your hand, across your skin, up your arm.

“Young-il...” you breathed out his name a bit stunned by the whole sudden confession. At the sound, he felt his limbs tremble, his lips had reached your bicep and it wasn't until he kissed your shoulder that he opened his eyes so he could look at you with raw adoration, his breath joining yours at the closeness.

“I'll get you out of here, safe and sound. I won't let them touch a hair on your head” he promised, reassuring you, pulling you in, inviting you to slip into his orbit, “I just need you to trust me”

Your eyelashes grazed your cheeks as you blinked slowly, your hand rising to his shoulder, thumb brushing his neck, “How will you do that?”

“Trust me” he pleaded, staring at you for a few seconds before leaning down into you, both of his hands landing on your waist, holding you against him, his face nestled into your neck, he began to press his lips into your skin, kissing it. You close your eyes in utter pleasure, feeling yourself getting all aroused, suffocated by all the attention, the sweet words, his desire for you. 

“Would you do that for me?” he rasped out against your skin before kissing it, sucking lightly, “...hm?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, his lips rapidly kissing your throat, and suddenly, everything was him, his mouth, his breath, his hands squeezing your waist. Him... 

You lifted your chin, allowing him more access to the soft flesh of your neck, seductive lips exploring every inch of your skin.

“Yes”

“That's my girl” he cooed with tenderness, kissing your neck one last time before pulling away from it so he could look at you, not even letting you breathe the air that had slipped out of your lungs for the entirety of his doing, before he was kissing your lips like a starving man.

He breathed against your lips in between frantic open-mouth kisses. He almost felt himself melt as his ears were blessed by the delightful little noises leaking out of your mouth, panting and low moans escalating up your throat.

“Young-il…” you whispered his name, your voice sheepishly lowering as you noticed the look in his eyes, your hands clasped around his neck, fingers trembling from the thrill and sudden shame that shook you.

“Jump” he said, his tone of voice heavy with command, his hands reaching around your waist and down onto your ass to lift you up effortlessly onto the side of the sinks, balancing himself tight against you in between your legs, which wrapped around his hips and pressed him further into you, under an instinctive impulse.

You panted against his lips as you felt his erection against the inside of your thigh, his body eagerly surrendering to yours in desperation.

His commanding voice and face were something that really turned you on even more, if that was even possible. It wasn't usual for him to be this stern with you, he was usually like that with the other players, with strangers, always cautious, quiet and tactful, meticulous of his every step and every word.

“W-wait— we're going to fuck in h-here?” you somehow managed to asked in between frantic, breathless kisses, barely opening your eyes, catching him with an expression of raw lust, pupils fully dilated now.

Young-il smirked playfully, allowing you to catch your breath for a moment, hands caressing your skin appreciatively beneath the fabric of your shirt, before dropping down and laying on either side of you against the sinks, veins bulging against his skin, “You want to do it in the other room? I don't mind having an audience.”

His little tease and the way he tilted his head made you blush furiously, fingers nuzzling the back of his neck, curling between locks of his hair.

“The guard will hear us...” you tried to talk some sense into him, whispering quietly to him, leaning your head even closer, as if you were little kids sharing a forbidden secret.

But Young-il stood his ground, kissing your lips shortly, to reassure you, noticing the worry in your big eyes, “Don't worry about him, don't worry about anyone,” his hand snaked between your bodies, spreading your legs a little further apart, “He won't hear a thing, they never hear or see anything. Not if they are ordered not to”

One of his hands reached up, stroking your hair soothingly, sensing the softness of your locks between his fingers. You were perfect, perfect. And he just knew he could lose all track of time, if it meant letting himself fall into you, touching you, feeling you, worshipping you.

"Lift your hips for me, yeah?”

Obedient, you lifted your hips just a little, letting him pull the hem of your tracksuit pants down your legs, taking it out of the way of obstructing his path into you.

“I know you want this as much as I do, you don't have to say it,” he cheekily smiled, looking up at you once he had lowered your pants down until they were at the level of your ankles. On his journey upwards, he kissed the side of your leg, your knees and your thighs without taking his eyes off yours, he was ruthless and you looked so pretty to him.

“Your body speaks to me, it has spoken to me since the first game. I've noticed the way you look at me. You are a naughty girl.”

You heaved a sigh, closing your eyes and pulling your head back as his hand dipped into the center in between your legs, feeling the wetness of your panties and the heat, your cunt pulsing around nothing. Your hands, now on either side of you clasped onto the ceramics of the sinks, your back arching beautifully.

You can't help the way your body trembles, flutters and simply submits when his finger rubs your swollen clit through your panties, feeling your face and your whole body flush, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment at the magnitude of his words and the enormity of all that was happening.

“Look at you,” he cooed, eyes locked on your pussy once he had pulled down your panties with precise but desperate motions, ran his index and middle fingers through your slick folds, making you moan, “you're soaking wet for me, just for my kisses? Fuck, you are so beautiful. My pretty, dirty girl. Letting herself be touched by a stranger.... but then again, not a stranger at all, hm?” his voice almost sounded mocking when it reached your ears, “I need to taste you,” his gaze moved up to your face, and he looked nearly pleading, he licked his lips in anticipation, fingers sinking just barely into the small entrance of your core, “may I?”

“Please—” You at once nodded feverishly, almost whimpering over the words that rushed into your throat, “Yes! Please, Young-il, please—”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, slouching closer, sinking right between your legs, his hands lingered around your knees, squeezing them against him with a possessive hold.

“In-ho” he corrected you, flushed against the skin of your inner thigh, pressing kisses along it, all too drunk already by your intoxicating scent, his mind going fuzzy with desire, the urge to make you his, “Call me In-ho”

You didn't even pause to doubt what he was telling you, Hell, you'd call him God if he asked you to. You were in the palm of his hand, on full display. His lips kissed your sex and you mentally thanked fate for putting you there, with him.

“Say it” he ordered, just before he plunged his tongue deep between your folds, knocking all the little breath left in your lungs. “Say my name, angel” the vibration of his voice against the most sensitive flesh of your body clenched the knot deep in the bottom of your belly.

“In-ho” you named him between shaky whimpers and little moans, like a prayer. One of your hands dropped to his head, fingers sinking into the black of his hair, tugging it and making him hiss against your cunt. “In-ho...”

In-ho, In-ho, In-ho...

“Good girl”

God.

He ate your pussy like it was his very last meal, lapping and drinking in everything you had to offer, every bit of wetness from you. The slurping noise burst through every wall of the bathrooms and suddenly, you didn't give a shit if the guard outside heard you, you didn't give a shit if all the guards heard you. 

They could be right there watching you, you couldn't care less, it wouldn't change the way you tugged at his hair, how your eyes rolled back and the way he was gazing up at you from below, kneeling perfectly between your legs as if they were the gates to heaven.

His tongue seemed familiar, his fingers squeezing your thighs, his eyes locked with yours, his lips kissing your sex with no breath, all the breath he needed was you. He didn't feel like a stranger, your body acquainted him, perhaps in another life. It all felt like deja vu, a reminiscence.

Your muscles tensed and he felt it through his tongue. You were about to cum, and your throat felt scratchy from all the moans and whimpers rasping through it.

“Gonna cum, baby?” he coaxed, pulling away from your cunt for just a couple of seconds, sneaking a hand in and pressing just barely at your entrance with a couple of fingers, kissing your clit and sucking it just right, “Yes you are,” he grumbled endearingly, his tongue tracing caresses all around your clit now, looking up at you.

“You're so tight” he marveled, watching in awe as your cunt eagerly attempted to suck in his fingertips, clenching and struggling to fit them. “Look at her, so eager... such a good girl, aren't you?” Once again he leaned into your clit, kissing, sucking and caressing it with his tongue, already too pussy drunk to stop. “Cum for me. Cum on my tongue, yeah, just like that”

“Holy shit, In-ho—” you hiccupped, feeling tears blur your vision, a wave of pleasure unleashing from deep in your belly. You moaned his name like a prayer, pressing his head closer to your cunt on an instinctive impulse, “Mmph!”

Maybe it was seeing his chin and mouth all dripping wet of you, or his dark, deep eyes marveling at how your pussy squeezed tight around his fingers, or his other hand sliding up under your shirt, finding one of your breasts and flicking your nipple. Maybe it was all of it, either way, you were cumming like you had never cum before. Your whole body was shaking and succumbing to the overstimulation. Succumbing to him.

In-ho gulped down everything you gave him like magic waters.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he confided, licking his index and middle finger as well, catching every trace there was of you that he could possibly consume as if it were honey.

Then, he kissed your pussy once more before standing up, sending shockwaves of electricity through your whole body with his touch, his hands settled on your hips, holding you so you wouldn't fall.

And he just smirked. He moved closer to you and kissed your mouth, making you savor your own taste through him, his hands appreciatively caressing your thighs, swiftly pulling up your panties back on.

“You're perfect, perfect,” he smoothed against your lips, his forehead leaning close to yours and he kissed you again, praising you, holding you tight in the afterglow of your orgasm, “My girl, my favorite girl, so good for me"

“We need to get back before someone starts to get suspicious,” he mumbled softly, helping you to your feet and pulling up your pants, always holding you with his hands and strong arms.

“B-but,” you retorted, your hands gripping his shoulders, still feeling your legs a little wobbly and unsteady, your dilated pupils and half-closed eyes following him as he arranged you, “I want to-”

He interrupted you, grinning warmly, stroking a lock of your hair away from your forehead before kissing your lips once more, as if closing a deal, a promise, “There will be time. Be patient, princess. We don't want the others to find out about my favoritism, do we?” seeing you still looking a bit confused, and still denying with your head, In-ho smiled playfully, “That would be very unprofessional of me, so this will be our secret”

This time you kissed him, sealing the secret.

[thomas-mvller]

I honestly don't understand how rich/famous people can go around with those shattered screen protectors instead of taking ten minutes to go to a mall to get it replaced

[glamorizethechaos]

Bruises Pt 1 | Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary: When you find yourself in an abusive relationship, you never thought your attending Jack Abbot would become your protector and saving grace.

TW: domestic violence, addiction, alcohol, age gap relationship (reader is in late 20s & Jack is 49), blood, pining, angst, eventual smut. Not beta read.

If this flops I’m not writing part 2. Also if it flops I may cry so lie and tell me it’s good.

Word Count: 1.9k

Next

There was no point in trying to cover the massive bruise on your face, it would only make things more suspicious. You dont exactly remember what make your fiancé Charlie snap, but before you knew it, you were on the floor of the kitchen, his fist making contact with your face. The air escaped your lungs as you felt a blunt force against your abdomen, your fingers sprawled out on the floor, trying to hold onto anything you could as you gasped for breath. You didnt move from the cold tile for a while, it bringing comfort to your burning flesh.

As you strode into The Pitt the next evening, you did so hesitantly, keeping your head down. It was shift change, Dana was still at the nurses station, glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and Robby was stuck in a trauma. Jack was at the computer, reading over the shift change reports.

"Evening." you said casually, setting your water bottle down on the desk. Dana was the first to glance up.

"Eve- what the fuck?"

Jacks head shot up, and without hesitation he rounded the desk, taking your face into his hands, inspecting the damage.

"What the fuck happened?" you avoided his gaze as he gently cupped your cheeks, brushing his thumb across the black and blue skin.

"I'm fine. I was playing baseball with my nephew, and he has a really good swing." you tried to chuckle through your lie. He studied your face, his jaw clenched and brow serious.

"Did you get an X-ray?"

"I'm fine. Really." you shook your head, but when he delicately pressed his fingers on your nose you jerked your head backwards with a wince.

"Bullshit you're fine, you're next for X-ray." he grabbed your wrist and started leading you towards radiology as you protested.

"I know we have other patients, but you cant treat them with a broken face. If its broken, you're going home."

"No!" you called out too eagerly, almost in a panic. Jack stopped in his tracks with a screeching halt, twisting around to look at you. His demeanor instantly changed, his gaze burned into your flesh as he studied you: your eyes, your shallow breathing, and your posture that seemed to be recoiling with each passing second. His jaw was clenched, but the grip on your wrist began to loosen, and he slowly let go. You looked down as his fingerprints began to fade away.

"I'm ordering a CT" he deadpanned with a quick turn, continuing your walk to X-ray. His pace speeding up over so slightly and you struggled to keep up. The air was heavy; the silence hung high in the air- only the hum of the hospital’s harsh artificial lights filled the uncomfortable void.

"For a broken nose?" you called out, confused.

"Just a precaution."

"We don't order CTs for a broken nose, Jack. I dont ne-"

"Will you just fucking listen for once?" he hissed through clenched teeth as you jerked backwards. Jack was known for his tough exterior, but he wasn't short, not with his patients, and especially not with you. You knew there was a soft side to him, one he rarely showed. You’ve seen him sit bedside with a young girl explaining to process of a medical abortion, you’ve watched him show his prosthetic leg to a terrified little boy with a broken arm, and you’ve watched him talk a fellow vet through a PTSD episode.

He pulled a gown down from the shelf in the waiting room and pressed it firmly against your chest. "Get dressed, when you're all done I'll come get you." Before you could respond he walked away, his fists balled by his sides. You had never seen Jack like this, what happened? It's like a flip switched. His body was tense, his eyes full of anger.

You look at your bruised face in the changing room as you took off your engagement ring and other jewelry. You did your best to cover your bruised body despite the gown being open all the way down the back. The radiology tech was the seasoned Maxine, having worked at PTMC for almost 40 years, and having pet names for everyone at the hospital.

“I’m not sure why he’s making such a fuss over a broke nose. He’s not my dad.” You kept the conversation going as she positioned you on the bed.

“What about your daddy?.” Maxine winked.

“Jesus Christ Maxine!” You blushed.

“I’m just teasing honey, he just cares about you that’s all. Some may say smitten.” the smell of cigarettes emanating from her Snoopy scrubs.

“You said you were gonna quit.” You tried to change the subject as you began to blush even harder.

“They haven’t killed me yet. Besides, talk to me when you’ve been working here as long as I have. How long have you been working here?”

“5 years.”

“See, you’re just a baby, baby.” She patted you shoulder and left the room to start the scan. “Just stay still for me doll and it’ll be done soon.” After CT you hurried to change out of your gown and back into your black scrubs. You were seething with anger and shock by how Jack had spoken to you earlier. You waltzed back down to the ER despite his orders and looked up at the patient board. 10 more in the waiting room since you went down to radiology? What the fuck?

“When you’re all done I’ll come and get you…” you began speaking to yourself in a mocking tone as your scanned your badge to pick up a new case, “who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?”

“What are you doing?” You spun to find Jack barreling toward the nurses station from curtain 3. “I told you I’d come get you when the CT was over.”

“And I’m not a child Jack. I’m a big girl, I can walk myself back to work. I don’t need you to hold my hand the whole way in case I get lost. Now if you’ll excusing me, I have a vomiting toddler in 12.” You tried to push past but he stepped in front of you, blocking your direction.

“Not until I see your scan results.” You were livid at how infantilizing he was being at the moment. You always thought he viewed you at incredibly capable. You searched his eyes, looking for at least something that would explain this sudden strange behavior. What did he know? What did he suspect?

“Step aside Dr. Abbot.” You squared up to him. Arms resting on your hips. He took a step forward, his chest almost pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat emanating from his body and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Uh Abbot,” Nurse Lena uncomfortably walked into whatever the hell this was. “CT and X-ray results are back.”

Jack backed up slowly, not taking his eye off you as he opened the files on his computer. He began to read, his hands resting on the desk in front of him.

“Why don’t we go over these somewhere a little bit quieter.” He asked, faking a smile and trying to find a private room. You followed in suit.

“You don’t have to take me aside to tell me I have a broken nose, Dr. Abbot.” You were almost 2 hours into your shift and hadn’t touched a patient yet. This was ridiculous.

“You’re right,” he answered back, closing the curtain behind you as you both ducked into Room 7. “I’d like you to tell me where these rib fractures came from”. He didn’t looked at you, just typed away at the computer pulling up your CT results.

“What are you talking about, Jack?” Your mouth instantly began to water as you were hit a wave of nausea. He turned the computer to face you, pulling up your imaging.

“Non displaced rib fracture of the left T6 and hairline fracture of your T7.” He pointed to each rib on the screen, as if it weren’t clear as day to you as well. Your hands tangled in your lap as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation. “Or did your nephew do that too?” Your eyes shot up at his sarcastic remark. Jack regretted those words the second they left his lips. Looking down at his shoes, he inched his way towards the edge of the bed where you were sitting, hands in his scrub pockets.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, putting his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. You winced slightly as he hit a particularly tender spot and his face fell. "Whats wrong with your shoulder?"

"I'm fine." you just shook your head, fiddling with your engagement ring like you were unintentionally trying to tell him something. He took a seat next to you, looking down at the floor.

"How long has he been hurting you." he finally asked, nervously rubbing the scruff on his face, trying to calm the pit in his stomach. You shook your head again and stood, turning towards the door. He grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving, unknowingly tracing his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. Avoiding his gaze, you struggled to hold back the tears that were burning your eyes. You felt a gentle tug on your arm, Jack pulling you closer to him, grabbing on to your other free hand.

There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to tell him. About all the nights you spent locked in the bathroom, hiding from your fiancés hurling words and fists. About the bruises that covered your body. About the control. The isolation. The terror.

"I dont know." was all you could muster, however. You felt his body stiffen, his grip tighten on your wrists. A sob caught in your chest, the lump growing larger and larger in your throat. You couldn’t look up, you couldn’t face him, though you felt his hazel eyes burning into your flesh. Before you either of you could speak again, you were saved by a trauma.

It wasn’t until hours later, as the Pittsburgh sun because to poke out from under the horizon, did you hear the door creak and the sound of his uneven gate coming up behind you. Without a word, he handed you your usual, a cup of vanilla chai tea. The both of you would meet up here on occasion, after a particularly tough shift, just to talk. It was a chilly morning, the tip of your nose rosy as another cold Pittsburgh fall and winter began to creep in. You caught chill as the wind whipped through the buildings beside you. As you shivered, Jack instinctively stepped towards you, letting his radiating body heat warm yours.

“It wasn’t always this bad,” you finally admitted. “The first time he hit me… he said he’d never do it again. I was stupid enough to believe him. But then his drinking got worse and, you get the rest of the story.” You motion to your face, the cold air stinging your eyes. He stared at you without a word, you could tell he was thinking. You saw the gears moving in his head. Jack Abbot, thinking? That was never good sign.

“You drive or take The T?” He asked, pushing off the railing.

“The T…?” You were confused as he started walking toward the door, motioning you to follow suit. “Grab your stuff, I’ll take you home.” “Jack, that’s kind of you, but if Charlie saw some strange man dropping me o-“

“I know,” Jack cut you off, “I’m taking you to my place.”

[gatorguardca]

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[euno11a]

HII I LOVE UR "kiss-proof test" with the saja boys😍

Could you pls make where the reader is like pranking the boys by wearing a very revealing outfit and plans to go out, so the boys reaction is like "HUH you? Wearing that? OUTSIDE? HELL NO" or something like that

i will leave the rest to you if you want to do it differently😁 I JUST WANT JELOUS OVERPROTECTIVE SAJA BOYS🥰🙏🏻 have a great morning,afternoon,night🫶🏻

Wearing a revealing outfit w/ Saja Boys

Jinu

You had spent hours planning the perfect prank. And what better way to mess with Jinu than by pushing him right to his limit? He was always so cool, so collected, like nothing could faze him. It was time to see if you could finally get a rise out of him.

You slipped into the outfit—a little more daring than usual, revealing enough to catch attention but still classy. It wasn’t outrageous, but you knew it’d be enough to rattle him. You checked yourself out in the mirror, making sure everything was perfect, and then took a deep breath.

You weren’t sure what you expected, but Jinu’s reaction was definitely��going to be entertaining.

You walked out into the living room, doing your best to strut without looking like you were trying too hard. Jinu was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, completely oblivious. That was, until you stepped into his line of sight.

The moment he saw you, his phone slipped from his hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. His eyes went wide, his usual smirk faltering for the first time in ages as he took you in—head to toe. His mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut, like he was trying to put together a sentence but couldn’t quite manage it.

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Well? What do you think?”

Jinu stood up almost too quickly, his eyes still fixed on you, his hand twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or run away. He rubbed his face, taking in a deep breath before finally speaking. “What are you wearing? You’re seriously gonna walk around in that?”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What’s wrong? You don’t think I look good?”

Jinu’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. This was different. His gaze darkened slightly, his posture straightening as if he were preparing for something big. “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you: I know you look good. That’s the problem.” He glanced around, like he was trying to figure out how to handle this. “You’re gonna turn heads, and not in the ‘wow, they look amazing’ way. You’re gonna get attention—and not the kind that’s good for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused at how rattled he was. “So what? You’re telling me I shouldn’t look this good? Is that it?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Jinu’s voice was suddenly more serious, and you could tell he was getting a little agitated. “I’m saying that if you walk outside like that, people are gonna look at you the wrong way. I can’t let that happen. You’re—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “You’re mine to protect, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to make sure nothing goes sideways. You don’t need people gawking at you like you’re some... I don’t know, movie star or whatever.”

You smirked, feeling the heat of his words. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting—but it was definitely more fun than you anticipated. “Oh? So now you’re the big protector? Just because I want to step outside looking a little... fabulous?”

Jinu paced a little, his eyes not leaving you. “It’s not about you looking good—god, you always look good.” His voice dropped slightly, almost too soft for you to hear, and then he shook it off like it didn’t matter. “It’s about people’s eyes on you. People who don’t know you. People who could get the wrong idea and say things, do things. And I’m not about to let anyone make you feel uncomfortable. Especially not today.”

You could see it now—Jinu’s usual cool demeanor was cracking, replaced by a fierce protectiveness you hadn’t expected. And you had to admit, it was kind of adorable.

“You’re not letting me go out, huh?” you teased, stepping a little closer, watching him like a hawk. “You’re seriously telling me I can’t leave the house?”

His eyes locked onto yours, the usual cockiness in his smirk replaced by something more intense. “I’m not telling you you can’t—I’m telling you I’m not letting you.” He pointed at you as if you were some kind of unruly child. “Not like this. No way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking this. “Wow, you’re really overreacting, huh? It’s just an outfit, Jinu. No one’s gonna die.”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped. “I can’t... I can’t handle the thought of you getting hurt or—” He paused, and for a second, his confidence wavered. His face flushed, like he realized how over-the-top he was being. “You’re just... you’re too important to me. I don’t want anyone treating you like some... object they can stare at.”

You stepped forward, your grin softening as you took in his words. It was clear now: This wasn’t just about his usual cocky bravado. Jinu genuinely cared about you—and that made the whole prank feel a little less fun.

“I didn’t think you’d be this protective,” you said, voice low and teasing. “I thought you’d just make fun of me and move on.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t look away from you. “Of course I’d make fun of you. But don’t act like I’m not watching your back. You’re my responsibility, you know? If I let you go out in this, I’d never forgive myself.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re really something else, Jinu.”

He puffed out his chest, regaining his usual confidence. “I know. I’m just that good.”

You paused for a moment, feeling the shift between you two. “You’re right,” you said after a beat. “I guess I’ll change… for now.”

Jinu’s eyes narrowed, like he was waiting for you to try something. But then, his expression softened just a little. “Good choice. I’ll let you keep your dignity for today.” He winked, the cocky smirk back in full force. “But next time, maybe save the pranks for someone else, yeah?”

You chuckled and walked back toward the bedroom, but before you could get too far, Jinu called after you, his tone softer than usual.

“And seriously... you do look amazing. But I’m not letting anyone hurt you, no matter what you wear.”

You smiled to yourself as you entered your room. Maybe Jinu was a little over-the-top sometimes, but that was what made him so special.

Abs

You had to admit, the moment you decided to prank Abs, you had no idea what you were getting into. His cocky smirk, his over-the-top swagger—there was no way you could just walk into the room in something ordinary and expect him not to have something snarky to say.

But today, you were determined. You needed to break through that unshakeable coolness of his, show him that he wasn’t always in control.

You picked out the outfit—the one that you knew would rattle him. Bold, revealing, and definitely a little out there. You stood in front of the mirror for a moment, grinning to yourself as you imagined Abs’ face when he saw you. This was going to be fun.

You strutted into the living room where ABS was lounging, his legs kicked up on the couch like he owned the place, casually scrolling through his phone. He barely looked up at first, too engrossed in whatever nonsense he was reading, but when he finally did, his eyes widened and then narrowed as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

ABS slowly set his phone down, his fingers tapping on the armrest as he studied you—eyes scanning, lips curling into that signature cocky grin. “Huh. So this is what you’ve been planning, huh? Thought you’d show up looking like a million bucks, huh?”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, letting him take it all in. “What’s the matter, Abs? You don’t think I can pull it off?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost dangerous. “Pull it off? Honey, I’m more worried about how you’re gonna keep it on.” His smirk deepened. “You’re definitely gonna need more than that to stop the entire world from staring at you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his usual swagger. “Oh, so I’m that irresistible, huh?”

He stood up from the couch in one fluid motion, walking toward you with a confident swagger that you couldn’t help but admire. “Look, you know how I am. I’m always the one turning heads. But you, walking around in that? Everyone in a five-mile radius is gonna be talking about you. It’s gonna be chaos. You want that kind of attention?”

You took a step closer, not backing down an inch. “What’s the matter, Abs? You jealous of a little competition?”

His eyes flashed for a moment, and his grin faltered just slightly before he leaned in, his gaze sharp. “Jealous? Me?” He scoffed, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. “Nah. Never.” He eyed you up and down again, the teasing grin back in full force. “But, come on. You’re seriously about to walk outside like that? I’m telling you right now, you’ll never be able to handle the kind of attention you’re about to get. People won’t even know how to act.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “So what? You think I’m too much for the world to handle?”

“Oh, it’s not the world I’m worried about,” Abs shot back, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over. “It’s you.” He leaned against the wall, his gaze never leaving you. “You can’t just walk around wearing... this and expect to go unnoticed. Not that I don’t think you can handle the attention. It’s just...” He paused, clearly trying to put his thoughts together. “It’s not just attention, okay? People can be dumb. They can be... creepy. And I’m not about to let anyone get any ideas. You get me?”

You stared at him for a moment, surprised by how serious he was. This wasn’t just about his usual cocky self. This was Abs, the guy who always thought he had everything under control, actually looking a little... protective?

“Aw, look at you,” you teased, a playful grin creeping onto your face. “Are you worried about me?”

Abs rolled his eyes, but there was a slight tension in his jaw. “Worried? Pfft.” He flicked his wrist like it was nothing. “I’m not worried. I just don’t like the idea of people thinking they can mess with you. I’m the only one who gets to mess with you.”

You took a step closer, leaning in just enough to make him shift a little. “So, what’s your plan? You gonna stop me from going out? You gonna take me by the hand and drag me away?”

His lips parted for a second, like he didn’t quite know how to respond. Then he gave you that trademark smirk, though it was tinged with something else now—a little softer, a little more serious. “I’ll definitely stop you if I have to. You think I’m gonna let you out there and let the whole city stare at you like you’re some... object?”

You chuckled, watching as Abs tried to act like the situation wasn’t bothering him, even though you could tell it was. “Is that what you think? You really think I’m some... object?”

He immediately dropped his confident act, his eyes softening. “No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he quickly said, and for the first time, you saw a hint of hesitation in his expression. “I just mean... people can be gross. I don’t want them looking at you like that, okay?”

You blinked, taken aback by how genuine his words were. Abs, the cocky troublemaker, was actually protecting you. And you couldn’t deny it felt nice.

“Aww, Abs.” You shook your head with a grin. “Look at you. All protective and cute.”

His face immediately turned red, and he quickly turned his head away, trying to recover. “Cute? Don’t call me that.” He crossed his arms again, but this time, it wasn’t with his usual swagger. It was almost like he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t being soft.

“I’m not changing just because you say so,” you teased, stepping back toward the door. “But maybe... maybe I’ll think about it.”

Abs glared at you, his eyes dark, but there was a playful gleam to them now. “You better think about it, because if you don’t, I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” You challenged, turning back to face him with a grin. “What are you gonna do? Keep me locked in the house?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “If I have to. You don’t want to test me on this, trust me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Abs rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the hint of a smile from tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, I’m the one who’s always got your back.” He paused for a moment, and when you didn’t respond, he added, “So... you’ll change, right?”

You gave him a wink. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You better,” Abs said, his usual cockiness back in full swing. “Because I’m not letting anyone mess with you. And if anyone even thinks about it, they’ll be dealing with me first.”

You smiled to yourself as you walked away. Maybe he was a little over-the-top sometimes, but it felt good to know that Abs really did care.

Mystery

You knew exactly what you were doing when you picked out the outfit. It wasn’t something outrageous, but it was a little more daring than usual—just enough to catch someone’s eye. And who better to test it on than Mystery? He was always so calm, so composed. You’d often wonder if he ever cared about anything outside of his usual cool detachment.

Today, though, you had the perfect opportunity to see if you could get even the smallest reaction out of him.

You walked into the living room, feeling that usual confidence when you were in something that made you feel good. You leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he sat on the couch, reading a book. He barely looked up, his eyes skimming the page like nothing could distract him.

“Hey, Mystery,” you said, trying to sound casual but knowing you were about to break the silence. “What do you think?”

He didn’t immediately respond, and you almost thought you had failed to grab his attention. But then, he slowly glanced up over the edge of his book, his eyes briefly scanning your outfit before flicking back to the pages.

“Hm,” he murmured, his voice low and calm, but you couldn’t help but notice a subtle change in his posture. “It’s... bold.”

You raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback. “Bold? That’s it?”

He closed the book with a soft thud, his eyes still fixed on you, but now with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was concern. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, it made your stomach flutter a little.

“You’re going out in that?” he asked, his tone still even, but there was something different about it. Like he was silently weighing the situation.

You smirked, walking a little closer, enjoying the fact that you were managing to shake him from his usual calm. “What? You don’t think I can handle it?”

He didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stood up slowly, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than usual. His eyes weren’t cold, but there was something guarded in them, like he was trying to figure out how to handle you in this outfit.

“I didn’t say that.” He spoke slowly, his voice steady but firm. “It’s just... You don’t need to attract unnecessary attention, that’s all.”

You frowned slightly, not expecting that response. “Unnecessary attention? What do you mean by that?”

Mystery paused for a second, and you could see his mind working. He was choosing his words carefully, his usual calm exterior intact. “People can be... unpredictable. You never know who’s paying attention or what they’ll think. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t put yourself in a position where you might feel uncomfortable later.”

It wasn’t what you had expected, but it was clear now that he wasn’t as indifferent as he sometimes came across. Mystery was more protective than you’d realized, even if he didn’t always show it in the typical way.

You tilted your head, trying to read him. “Are you worried about me?”

He didn’t immediately respond, but there was a slight change in the way he stood, his gaze flicking away from yours for a brief moment, almost as if he was trying to mask something. His voice remained steady, but you could hear the faintest trace of something behind it—concern, maybe, or just a quiet care. “I’m not worried. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You blinked, a little taken aback. That wasn’t what you had expected to hear. Mystery wasn’t exactly the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, but right now, he was doing something close to it.

“I’m fine,” you said softly, trying to ease whatever concern you’d stirred up. “I can handle myself.”

Mystery’s eyes softened just slightly, though he quickly tried to maintain his usual reserved demeanor. “I know you can. But... that doesn’t mean I want to see you in a situation where you might regret your choices.” His eyes shifted over you again, as if he were reassessing everything. “I just... care about you.”

The words came out quieter this time, almost like he wasn’t used to expressing that kind of sentiment. And just like that, the calm, cool Mystery you’d come to know had revealed something deeper—something that was still, as always, understated but unmistakably there.

You stepped closer, your voice teasing but your eyes soft. “Mystery, you’re really something, you know that?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were slightly embarrassed. “I don’t say these things often.”

“Clearly,” you quipped, giving him a knowing smile. “But I think it’s sweet.”

He didn’t look at you directly, but his lips quirked up just enough to show you that he appreciated the compliment. “I just don’t want you to be in a situation where you feel... uncomfortable. You’re not like everyone else. You deserve to be treated with respect.”

Your heart gave a little flutter at his words. For all his quiet nature, for all the times people assumed he didn’t care, here he was, quietly standing up for you in the most gentle way possible.

“I’ll be fine, Mystery,” you reassured him. “And... thank you. Really.”

He nodded, his gaze steady as always, but this time with a slight warmth you couldn’t miss. “Just... be careful. I’m not always around to watch out for you.”

You chuckled, feeling that soft, protective energy from him seep through. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, he gave you one last lingering look, his usual composed self taking over again. “Good. Now... I’m going to pretend I didn’t have this conversation, alright?”

You smiled, knowing he was more than just the quiet, cold guy people assumed he was. He was calm, cool, and quiet, but beneath it all was someone who truly cared. “Alright, Mystery. But you know you’ve got my back.”

He gave you a subtle nod, his expression unreadable again, but the way his eyes met yours was enough to say everything that words couldn’t.

Romance

You had known Romance long enough to recognize his style. Smooth talker, charming as hell, always with that smirk that made you wonder if he was always flirting or if it was just his natural state of being. But today? Today was different. Today, you were about to push his buttons in the most playful way possible.

You slipped into the outfit—a little revealing, a little bold, but not too over-the-top. You wanted to catch him off guard, test his reaction. He was always so confident in his skin, so self-assured. But you wondered... just how would he react if you dared to wear something a little more eye-catching than usual?

You walked into the living room, giving him just enough time to get a good look. Romance was lounging on the couch, his usual relaxed posture, one arm draped over the back of the chair, a lazy grin playing on his lips as he scrolled through his phone.

“Hey, Romance,” you called out casually, leaning against the doorframe. You could practically feel the mischievous energy crackling in the air.

He glanced up, eyes flicking over your form. The usual confident smile slid off his face for just a moment before quickly reappearing. His lips quirked into a smirk, and his eyes took their sweet time appreciating the view. “Well, well, well... Look at you, all dressed up. Trying to kill me with that look, are we?” His voice was a smooth purr, a teasing glint dancing in his eyes.

You gave a dramatic sigh, crossing your arms. “What? You think I look that good?”

Romance leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes gliding over you as if you were the only thing in the room. “Baby, you look like you just stepped out of one of those romantic comedies. Damn, you’re stunning.” He grinned, but his eyes narrowed slightly, the teasing light in them flickering for just a moment. “But I gotta ask, where do you think you're going in that?”

You smiled, enjoying the playful banter. “What? You think it’s too much? I’m just gonna step out for a bit. What's the big deal?”

He straightened up, his posture shifting ever so slightly. His usual carefree attitude was still there, but now there was a faint undercurrent of seriousness in his tone. “The big deal, darling, is that you’re gonna have everyone in the city watching you like you’re the star of the show.” He leaned back, still studying you with that half-smirk. “And I’m not sure I’m cool with that. You’re my responsibility, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing the room to stand just a little closer to him. “Oh? Your responsibility? Are we going down that road now?”

Romance’s grin never wavered, but there was a shift in the way he was looking at you. He was playful, but there was also something deeper in his gaze now—a little more possessiveness, maybe. “Oh, I’m always down that road,” he replied smoothly, his hand brushing through his hair with a small chuckle. “See, you may think you can just waltz out there, turn heads, and make everyone fall at your feet. But I know you. And I know what happens when you catch people’s attention... They forget how to be decent.” He let the words hang in the air, his tone light but there was a subtle tension behind it.

You could see he was trying to keep it casual, trying to make it sound like just another one of his flirtations. But the way he spoke told you he wasn’t exactly happy with the idea of you being out there—alone.

“So, you’re saying you want to keep me locked up in here?” you teased, a grin tugging at your lips. “You think I can’t handle a little attention?”

Romance laughed, standing up now and taking a step closer. “Oh, no, baby. I know you can handle it,” he said, voice dropping to a more serious tone for just a beat. “You’ve got that kind of power. But I’m not letting anyone else mess with you. That’s where I draw the line.”

You were caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. Normally, Romance was all fun and games, a tease in every sense of the word, but right now? Right now, you could feel the protective side of him pushing through.

“You care that much?” you asked, your voice quieter now, almost amused by the contrast in his usual playful demeanor.

He rolled his shoulders back, trying to play it cool again. “I don’t care about you walking around looking like a goddess or whatever. But what I do care about is people thinking they can get close to you. You deserve the best, and that’s not gonna come from some random stranger who thinks you’re just an object to stare at.”

You stared at him for a moment, the cocky smirk on his face not quite reaching his eyes. There was something more to him than the usual flirty comments and confident swagger. “Wow, Romance. I didn’t know you could be so... serious.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes in that way that made it clear he was uncomfortable with the compliment. “Yeah, well, I’m not always here for the spotlight, but when it comes to you... Yeah, I’m gonna be protective.” His voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the seriousness behind it. “I’m not about to let some jerk look at you like that. You’re worth so much more than a second glance from some random fool.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “I’m not exactly helpless, you know. I can handle myself.”

Romance’s eyes softened for a moment, his usual playful glint replaced by something more genuine. “I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna sit by and watch someone treat you like you’re just... there.” His hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a second longer than usual. “I’ve got you. Always.”

You met his gaze, your smile softer now. “I appreciate that, Romance. Really.”

He shrugged, a grin creeping back onto his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sappy on me. I’m still the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” He winked, trying to recover his usual cocky tone.

But you could see it. Underneath all the charm, the flirty lines, and the jokes—he cared. Deeply. And that was more than enough to make you feel safe.

“I guess I’ll stay in, just for you,” you said, laughing softly.

Romance pulled you closer with that mischievous grin, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “Good. Now you’re thinking like I do. And don’t think I didn’t notice how great you look. But I’m still not letting you out of my sight.”

“Fine,” you laughed, “but only because you’re so charming.”

He chuckled, his playful grin back in full force. “Damn right I am.”

Baby

You knew Baby was that guy. The one who strutted around like he had all the answers, acting so laid-back, like nothing in the world could faze him. The perfect picture of "cool," or at least, that’s what he wanted everyone to believe.

But you knew better. You knew he was just a big softie who was probably way more affected by things than he let on.

So, today? Today, you were going to push his limits and see just how far you could get him to break that cool, aloof act. The outfit you chose was bold—revealing but not overly crazy—just the right amount to make anyone do a double-take. You were curious if Baby would keep his effortless "cool" vibe, or if you could finally crack him and reveal the sunshine hiding underneath.

You walked into the living room where Baby was lounging on the couch, acting like he was the least interested person in the world. He glanced up, his eyes barely leaving his phone screen as if you were just another part of the background.

But the moment his eyes landed on you, the phone slowly lowered, and the usual carefree, aloof attitude seemed to flicker, just for a second. His eyebrows shot up, and he blinked, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he was seeing things correctly.

“Uh...” he began, his usual cool tone slipping for just a second, “…what’s this now?” His gaze stayed on you, that classic cocky smile of his forming, though you could tell he was more than a little thrown off. "You’re, uh, wearing that? Seriously?"

You couldn’t resist a grin as you posed, leaning casually against the doorway. “What, you don’t think I can pull it off?”

Baby leaned back in the couch, arms behind his head as he tried to play it cool. "Nah, it’s not that… It’s just…” His voice trailed off for a second as he looked at you, his jaw tightening just a bit. "It’s a little extra, don’t you think?"

You smirked and stepped closer, watching him squirm just a little. "Extra? What, you think it’s too much?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to act like he wasn’t entirely fazed, but you saw through it. You knew him too well. “Nah, nah. I mean... you look good and all. But, like… people are gonna notice, y’know?”

You raised an eyebrow, now standing in front of him, watching as his usual “cool guy” act cracked ever so slightly. “And what? You don’t want people noticing me?” you teased, crossing your arms.

He immediately shot up from the couch, eyes wide, trying to play it off like he was just "concerned" about the situation. "No! I didn’t—" He ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to recover from the slip-up. "I just... You’re not... you’re not gonna go out like that, right?"

You leaned forward, clearly enjoying the fact that you were getting under his skin. "Why? You think it’s too much attention?"

His gaze darted around, like he was looking for something to latch onto so he didn’t have to keep staring at you. "I’m just saying… it’s a lot for people to take in, okay?" He seemed to be struggling to keep that nonchalant tone. "I don’t know, I mean, you can handle it, but—" He trailed off, clearly not finishing the thought.

You smiled, taking another step closer. "But what?"

Baby swallowed hard, still trying to act like this was no big deal. "It’s not like I’m, y’know, worried or anything," he said, trying to force a laugh. "It’s just… I mean, I’m not stupid. People get weird about stuff like that." He bit his lip, his eyes flicking to the side before locking back on yours. "And I’m not about to let people... treat you like that."

There it was. You’d cracked the tough shell. Underneath the cool, aloof persona was a guy who cared. Baby, the one who tried to act like nothing fazed him, was visibly bothered by the idea of anyone messing with you.

You stood still, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his unspoken protectiveness. “So, what? You gonna stop me from going out?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Baby froze, his face going pink as he fumbled for words. “I-I didn’t say that,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I just... I just think you should be careful, that’s all.”

You smiled softly, not pushing him any further, but letting the quiet moment linger for a second. "I get it, Baby. But I’ll be fine. You know I can handle myself."

He sighed, clearly a little relieved, but that easy-going smile never quite reached his eyes the way it usually did. "Yeah, I know you can," he mumbled, almost to himself, before glancing away like he was trying to shake off his own feelings. "But it doesn’t hurt to have someone look out for you... y’know?"

You took a step closer and gave him a teasing wink. "You’re sweet, you know that?"

His face turned an even darker shade of pink, and he immediately crossed his arms to hide the awkwardness creeping up his neck. “Shut up, okay? I’m just—just saying—people are gonna stare, and I don’t want to see anyone acting all weird around you, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, enjoying the way he was so adamant about protecting you, even though he was clearly trying to act like he was still too cool for this kind of conversation.

“Alright, Baby,” you teased, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind. And I promise, I’ll be careful.”

He nodded vigorously, his face still flushed as he looked away, clearly embarrassed now. “Good. That’s all I’m saying. Just... don’t go getting yourself in trouble. People can be idiots.” He threw a casual wink your way, but it was clear he wasn’t quite as relaxed as he normally was. “I’ve got your back, okay?”

You smiled, knowing he was asking as much for himself as he was for you. "Of course," you said, giving him a soft grin. "You always do."

And just like that, Baby’s cool, aloof act had completely dissolved in front of you, leaving only the big-hearted sunshine beneath it all. He was still trying to act all “too cool,” but there was no denying that he cared. Maybe a little too much.

————————————

a/n: I have a list going right now for all the requests I have about the Saja Boys, so expect more later on today (hopefully)!!

[nekonaps0]

First years find out you're dating their dorm leader

(dramatic gasps, chaos, and a lot of “NO WAY! YOU?!”)

✦fem!reader

Ace Trappola

When Ace finds out you’re dating Riddle, he physically malfunctions. He catches the two of you in a rare soft moment. Riddle brushing your hair out of your face in the rose garden, murmuring something sweet… and Ace just… stops functioning.

“WAIT. HOLD UP. HOLD… ARE YOU DATING RIDDLE?! OUR RIDDLE?!”

You nod slowly. Riddle stiffens. “Yes. We have been for some time.”

Ace just throws his hands up.

“You mean to tell me you've been willingly dating a walking rulebook this entire time?!”

Then it clicks.

“Wait… THAT’S why you keep surviving his tantrums. And why he let you off with warnings. I knew something was sus!!”

Cue Ace groaning dramatically while muttering about how

“first the overbolts, now you, what’s next?… Cater adopting a child?!”

Deep down, he’s genuinely happy for you. But he’ll never stop teasing.

Deuce Spade

Deuce finds out about your relationship with Riddle by overhearing you call him “love” behind the dorm kitchen, and he nearly drops a whole tray of tea.

“Wait. Waitwaitwait! Did you just call Riddle love?! LIKE IN A ROMANTIC WAY?!”

You blink at him, guilty. Riddle clears his throat.

“Yes, Deuce. She’s my girlfriend. I’d prefer if you didn’t drop the teacups.”

Deuce looks like he’s about to have a full blown meltdown.

“Wha—I—Is that allowed?! Wait, no… of course it is! I’m just… YOU?! And RIDDLE?!”

He’s trying to process everything like it's a pop quiz he wasn’t ready for. He salutes you both out of sheer panic.

“I promise to uphold your secret honorably! WAIT!! Do I need to call you ma’am now?!”

Riddle: “…No.” You: laughing too hard to answer.

Jack Howl

Jack walks in on you and Leona napping under a tree in each other’s arms and nearly flips.

“…You’re kidding.”

When you’re alone he will catch you, staring you down like a judgmental big brother.

“You’re really dating Leona-senpai? Like, our dorm leader? The one who skips meetings and naps through drills?”

You nod cautiously. “Yes. We’ve been together for a while.”

Jack exhales through his nose.

“…Huh. Can’t say I expected that. But I guess if anyone could handle him, it’s you.”

Still, he’s lowkey worried. Leona’s not exactly emotionally available. But when he catches Leona actually smiling at you, Jack gives a small approving nod.

“Fine. Just don’t let him get lazy about treating you right. I’ll be watching.”

Jack becomes your unspoken protector after that. Big loyal wolf energy.

Epel Felmier

You mention “Vil” a little too affectionately during lunch and Epel spits out his juice.

“YOU’RE DATING VIL-SENPAI?!”

Everyone in the room turns to look. You cringe. “Epel, shhh—”

“LIKE… LIKE ACTUALLY DATING?! HIM?!”

You nod. “We’ve been keeping it quiet, but yeah…”

Epel’s jaw drops.

“He lets you TOUCH him?! Without a ten-step cleansing ritual first?!”

He’s genuinely floored. There’s a mix of shock, admiration, and disbelief in his eyes.

“Okay but… good for you, I guess? You must have magic-level of patience.”

He’ll never stop side eyeing you during self-care nights now, whispering:

“Blink twice if you’ve been force fed.”

Secretly though, he respects you immensely. Anyone who can tame Vil’s perfectionist side is a legend.

Sebek Zigvolt

You and Malleus try to be discreet, but Sebek’s too sharp. The second he catches you smiling at each other a little too long during dinner…

“…What is the meaning of this strange atmosphere?!”

You try to brush it off, but Malleus just calmly states:

“She is mine, Sebek. We are courting.”

Sebek’s brain breaks.

“YOU’RE WHAT?!?!”

Cue thunder and dramatic music playing in his head as he drops to one knee in despair.

“MALLEUS-SAMA HAS FOUND LOVE?! AND I DIDN’T KNOW?!”

He’s in full crisis mode. Rambles for ten minutes about how “he should’ve been notified by royal decree,” and how “no ordinary human could ever be worthy!!”

But when you squeeze his hand and call him “family,” he turns red and shouts:

“I SUPPOSE I SHALL… TOLERATE THIS!”

From that point on, he guards you like you’re also royalty

..............................................................................................................................

Hope you guys liked it ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 

“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 

“Soon.” 

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 

But god, you wanted to live. 

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 

The two of you were communicating. 

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 

Animal, indeed. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!