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#here's the fic!! writing is new to me so feedback is welcomed
decoloraa · 2 years
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Please look at me - Chapter one
Val, a doctor at fort Briggs, is Casther’s best friend. But after an “accident” they both don’t know how to approach each other’s, Val even distanced himself from the soldier. But the fort is small and the North’s cruelty forces the two of them into a situation where they have no choice but to face each other. Will they further grow apart or will they be able to work through their conflict?
[Read on ao3]
Relationships: Casther Wilk/Val Beauxclaire
Tags: sharing a bed, fluff and angst, misunderstandings, friends to ?
Warnings: (vague) descriptions of drowning, internalized homophobia
Chapter one: Warming up
With a loud bang, the cabin's door opened. Forcefully searching his way inside, Casther stepped onto the wooden floor, carrying the doctor's unconscious body over his shoulder. He quickly glanced through the room to see if someone was inside. But his senses didn't pick up any hints of someone else's present.
A proper search would be necessary, but there was no time. He would have to trust his instincts in telling him if they weren't truly alone. Without missing a second Casther closed the door and hurried towards the small bed that was standing in the back of the room.
Carefully he lifted Val off his shoulders, too scared to drop him by accident. The other man felt so fragile, like he could break if Casther wasn't gentle enough. Casther placed his lower body on the sheets, keeping Val's head in place with his left arm.
"Val, hey! Come on buddy, say something!", Casther didn’t have the capacity to hide the terror in his voice.
Patting his pale sheeks with his hands, Casther tried to get an answer from the black haired man, a sign of life. But he stayed silent.
In an effort to control his growing anxiety, Casther exhaled deeply. Closing his eyes he commanded his overbearingly beating heart to calm down. Clutching the shoulders of his friend, he stayed still for a moment.
And then-
"There!" Casther gasped in relief. A heartbeat. It was quiet, but it was there. Within a matter of seconds, Casther jumped into action again.
"I'm sorry, but I need to get you out of these", he apologized and started peeling Val out of his soaking wet clothes.
Removing the heavy clothing was harder than he had anticipated. A thin line of ice had already set on his coat, but Casther knew there wasn't a moment to spare. Val’s blue lips made the urgency clear.
"You can't die on me here, I won’t allow it", Casther heard himself whispering.
His fingers trembled, but not from the cold. He slipped the freezing man under a blanket he found curled up beneath the bed and piled any piece of dry fabric he found onto him.
While rampaging through wardrobe after wardrobe, Casther took a proper look at the cabin for the first time. It was more of a room that offered enough space for a fireplace and a bed. While it didn't necessarily look deserted, everything seemed to be cared for.
It didn't seem like one of the hideouts they had for scouting groups, but Casther had never learned all of their locations. Was this a hunter's hideout? Would they have to expect some company? He couldn't identify anyone's scent being prominent, so they might be safe for now.
As he eagerly dug through a tall wardrobe, he let out a shout of excitement.
"This is a bear's fur!", Casther looked at the thick material.
"Wow, this thing is huge. Must've been one of the brown bears from around here", he concluded. Many times he had heard of their size and power, but luckily he didn't have to meet them face to face during the three years he'd been at the fort.
Casther ran over to Val again and tucked him under the massive blanket. He nodded in success. Small victories still counted. Below all the blankets Val looked so small, fragile. Casther sat by his side for a second and let out a sign of relief as he registered the other man was still breathing.
Some minutes have passed, minutes that felt like a lifetime to Casther. After placing Val under a mountain of blankets, he had noticed a little fireplace. Making fire wasn't his strongest ability but he was glad everyone at Briggs was so keen about learning to light one. Soon a small flame was starting to brighten the room.
Not daring to leave him out of his sight, Casther sat next to Val for a while. His mind wouldn't stop racing.
Again and again the scene played in his head. Val as he walked through the snow a couple of meters ahead. Any efforts of warning him failed and before Casther knew, he could hear the layer of ice cracking under the doctor's feet.
They were lucky that Val hadn't broken into the middle of the lake, so all Casther had to do was reach into the icy water. But the cold winter air was equally cruel as the freezing water and Casther worried about the odds.
Why did Val run off like that? Casther had told him to stay close, why didn't he listen? It was as if the other man wanted..
..to get away from him.
Casther swallowed.
His mind started playing all different kinds of possibilities. Possibilities of what might go wrong, what else he could do. He tried to force his thoughts to calm down.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
Casther reached under the blankets to grab Val's arm, just to feel his own desperation grow. Cold. Usually he's capable of noticing even the most subtle changes in temperature, but his friend didn't seem to warm up.
What was he supposed to do? Val would know the necessary steps, but on his own he felt helpless. So helpless.
"Fighting is the only thing you're good for. What use do your powers have now? None", he whispered.
While running his hands through his short hair, he closed his eyes. With a groan he covered his face in his palms, elbows resting on his knees. Casther gripped into his own gray strands of hair, his left knee tapping up and down in a fast rhythm. Brooding he looked over to the small fire and then back to the doctor.
Should he-?
His mind wanders to that day. The day he blew it all. Val's shocked face had burned itself into his mind. He looked so hurt, even scared. And it was Casther’s fault.
Casther messed it up, like he always did. He managed to scare away his friend. Ever since that day things had been weird between the two of them. Casther wanted to talk about it, apologize, try to make things right.
But Val kept his distance and refused to even look at him.
"Come on, Casther. You have to do something", Casther whispered.
Once again he checked his temperature. Did it fall? He didn't know. He just didn't know what to do. All he could do was wait and hope and it was eating him up.
Casther startled when he noticed movement in front of him: Val winced, his eyebrows furrowing as his whole body began to shake. He was in pain.
And with that Casther made up his mind. He took a stand and looked down onto his own clothes. He hadn't noticed how wet they were, probably from carrying the soaked man all the way here. With stiff fingers he started to peel out of his jacket. Then slipped out of the heavy boots.
As he was slowly undressing he realized just how cold his limbs had become. Not in a dangerous range since he always found himself being more resistant to the cold (another benefit from being part wolf), but he still started to shiver.
"Well this will get awkward", Casther swallowed nervously.
As he stood there with nothing but his underwear, his lips twisted in embarrassment. He looked at Val.
"Get over it, idiot. You need to stop him from freezing. That's what's important", he whispered to himself.
The gray haired man stepped forward to the bed. By slowly lifting up one piece of fabric after another, he worked his way underneath the thick pile of blankets. He paused for a second and then slipped under the fabric to lay next to his friend.
The bedframe was rather small, so he had to move closer to Val in order to fit onto it. He winced as he touched the other one's cold skin. It was like ice. After a moment of consideration he let out a resigned groan.
"Fuck it.", he cursed as he tried to move Val from his back onto his side.
As they were now facing each other, Casther moved closer.
And pulled Val into a hug.
Casther tried to ignore his skin screaming at the cold skin touching him. Even harder he tried to ignore the heat that was starting to spread in his face from his own awkwardness.
"What are you, fifteen?!" he cursed to himself.
His face felt like it could rival the fire that was cracking in the back of the room. Pouting from his own embarrassment, he tried to think of something else. But all that was coming to his mind was the mental picture of Val falling into the frozen lake.
Shivering Casther tucked Val's head under his chin. Carefully Casther moved his arms into a more comfortable position, which allowed him to pull Val closer to his warm chest.
"I hope this will help", Casther mumbled worriedly. Doubts entered his mind. What if it was too late? Intuitively he pressed Val closer. No. He will pull through. Val is strong, he will make it.
After a while Casther's move seemed to have shown the first signs of success. The bed was starting to warm up and he even dared to believe some blue had left Val's lips.
As the stress faded and a glimpse of hope came, Casther felt himself growing dizzy. He shook his head. He couldn't allow himself to fall asleep. After all, he needed to know once the cabin's owner would return. Even more important: He had to notice Val waking up. The thought of him waking up before Cashter left his face burning in awkwardness.
But then, he was exhausted and the pile of blankets on top of them didn't help with keeping him awake.
And then there was the black haired man tugged in his arms. Val's steady breath felt soothing to Casther and he quickly felt himself being drawn to its rhythm.
In.
And out.
Val's heartbeats echoed through Casther, the rhythm luring him into a sense of calmness. Without noticing Casther buried his face into damp black hair.
Exhale,
Inhale.
With the relaxation Casther's senses began to thrive, having his surroundings to wash over him further. He took in all of the different smells around him. The cabin's rustic wood, the lake's muddy water, the burning wood in the fireplace, the earthy smell of the blankets and..
Lavender.
Lavender mixed with a deep soothing smell he couldn't quite name. Traces of something that was most likely an expensive cologne. And Lavender.
With every breath he took, Casther could feel it washing over his senses. The wood, the smoke, everything wandered into the back of his mind and all that filled it was the subtle smell of Lavender.
But instead of overwhelming him, it grounded him.
Without thinking Casther tightened the embrace. And as he listened to the black haired man's breath, felt his heartbeat and nuzzled into his hair, he could feel himself slipping into a deep rest.
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feedthefandomfest · 3 months
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springseasonie · 1 year
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the walls are thin | NJM + LJN (M)
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Roommate Jeno x fem reader x Roommate Jaemin
Summary: both Jaemin and Jeno have always had a thing for you and were never shy about it either. You always play hard to get, but all of your playing was going to catch up with you sooner or later.
Warnings: sexual content, dubcon themes, porn with little plot, horrifically Jaemin biased (it just happened that way), unprotected sex, kitchen sex, oral (male and fem receiving), degrading, praising, voyeurism, exhibitionism (if you squint), snowballing, mean dom jeno, soft dom Jaemin, literally just filth, proofread but may still contain errors
Word count: 7,4k
A/N: I had a completely different idea for this pairing, but I didn't like here it was going so I completely scrapped it and came up with this. Hope y'all like it it's my first time writing a 3some dynamic so be patient with me lol. Also I wanna try a new picture situation for fics soooo yeah idk if I'll be doing it for long. Probably just for multiple members fics. Pics aren't mine. Feedback is welcomed as always this was long overdue I was supposed to post this days ago
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The walls are pretty thin in your apartment, which is why you're so grateful when everyone is gone. You can't escape the constant sounds of your roommates laughing, talking, doing God knows what. You enjoy the peace and quiet, especially at night. The only drawback is that there is virtually no privacy.
You can't count the amount of times both Jeno and Jaemin asked you about conversations you had with people on the phone the night before. It always left you a bit shocked and freaked out. They never told you how much they heard or knew, just that they heard you. And on mornings like this - ones where you wake up groggy from getting yourself off - they never skip a beat to tell you they heard you.
"You're really loud at night you know," Jaemin said, pouring milk in his cereal.
"What are you talking about?" You yawned, covering your mouth with your hand. It's a Saturday, which means you have nothing but time to spare.
"When you're touching yourself. You should do a better job at keeping quiet," Jeno answered as he walked into the kitchen.
"Why were you listening?" Your tone was monotonous, still trying to fully wake up from your sleep. Nothing they said had any impact on you anymore. Their non-stop flirting and crude comments don't make you cringe and squirm like they used to, completely used to whatever games they were constantly trying to play.
"I didn't have a choice," Jaemin said, mouth full of cereal.
"We always have choices in life." You leaned on the edge of the counter, crossing your arms. Jeno brushed his hair back, biceps bulging in his right long sleeve top. It was no secret that even though you kept turning them down, they were eye candy. When you told your friends about them, they wondered how you were going to live with 2 men that looked like they were meant to be male strippers.
It's easy for you, really. Just get to know them. Getting to know people always helps get rid of the initial attraction, and they definitely made it easy. Except it came back 10 times stronger. And you really didn't mean for it to happen really, it just happened, and you're annoyed that it happened. But is it really your fault?
"Just how you made a choice to come out completely naked," Jeno questioned, looking you up and down.
"I'm wearing a tank top and shorts. Be serious." You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter. You turned around, reaching up to get a bowl only to be pressed against the counter again
"Let me help you out," Jeno said in your ear. He pressed himself against you, pushing his bulge into your ass. Jeno grabbed the bowl out of your hand, setting it down in front of you with the sweetest smile. "And I meant in other ways that don't involve getting bowls from cabinets."
Jeno backed away from you, and for the first time you can confidently say you didn't want him to move. But he'll never know that. Neither of them will ever know the effect they have on you for as long as you're in the same household. But sometimes you really wonder if it's worth it, not letting them touch you in the ways you want. Not letting them do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. It didn't really matter anyways, they're just 2 people out of the 8 billion on the planet.
"You are so spoiled you know that."
You jump, surprised at the sound of Jaemin's voice near your ear. You forgot he was still in the kitchen being lost in thought about Jeno's body pressed against yours. "What do you mean by that?"
"You have 2 guys constantly trying to fuck you, and you keep refusing," he says, chuckling softly. "It's honestly annoying."
You rolled your eyes pouring cereal in your bowl. "Then stop. I keep refusing and you keep coming back."
"But I like the chase."
You turned around, immediately being faced with Jaemin's eyes being directly on your tits. His gaze made you feel small sometimes, always looking at you like you were a piece of meat. But you liked the way he looked at you. They way his gaze would linger, never shy to tell you exactly what he wanted with no words.
"All men like chasing," you replied, pouring the milk in your bowl.
"Not as much as me. When I catch you, you'll be wishing I didn't," he mumbled.
"You're funny."
"I've been told. And I tend to laugh women right out of their clothes." His witty responses never fail to amaze you. He always had a response for everything, never speechless although sometimes you wish he was.
You turned around, leaning on the counter as you shoved a spoon full of cereal in your mouth. "You know," you started, "sometimes I wish the 2 of you were man enough to do something."
Jaemin raised his brow, crossing his arms. "Is that some kind of challenge?"
"No, just a thought. I'm going to my room." You walked out the kitchen and down the tiny hallway, already hearing Jeno's music through the walls. You wish you weren't so evil, but there would be no fun in your life. Because as much as you tell them to stop, you just want them to keep telling you over and over again how much they want it, how much they need you.
"If you ever need help, remember I'm next door," Jaemin called out behind you.
"Never gonna happen."
-
"Fuck, come on!"
You've been playing video games since your conversation with Jaemin ended, and honestly you wish you hadn't even started. You've been doing nothing but yelling at your screen and pounding your desk. And you just so happened to get knocked out again.
"I can't take this shit anymore," you groaned, cradling your head in your arms. Just as you were about to throw your headset off, you heard a knock on your door. "Come in."
Jaemin walked in, face puffy like he just woke up from a nap. But you couldn't even keep looking at his face, not when he was wearing that one shirt that made him look bigger than he already was. And- oh. He wasn't wearing anything under his basketball shorts, was he?
"You're too loud." His voice was deep and groggy, the sound of it going straight to your core.
"Sorry. This game is just-"
"Annoying? I've heard you say that millions of times already. Just stop playing it." Jaemin leaned on your door frame, shaking his hair from his face. It was taking everything in you to not say what you wanted to. He's attractive and he knows it. He knows what he does to you and it drives you insane. "Just keep it down okay?" Jaemin turns on his heels, walking out of your room, door knob in his hand.
"I'll try. You know how I get when I'm stressed."
Stressed. That was all he heard. "You're stressed?"
"Yeah, just a little," you admit.
"Let me help you," he said, coming back into your room.
You turned around in your chair, raising your brow at his statement. "And how would you do that?"
Jaemin walked up to you, looking down at you with sleepy and lustful eyes. Silence filling the space between you. He needed you, even when he felt like he was gonna pass out. And he would take any chance to get you, only if you would let him. "Let me give you the best head in your life."
The request shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did, but the slight twitch of your right leg whenever you were turned on would always betray you. You scanned his face, eyes moving down his body. "Are you hard?"
"Yeah," he answered honestly. "But you don't have to do anything. I promise."
"I wasn't planning on it," you answered, turning around.
"You still didn't answer my question."
"You didn't ask me a question."
"Can I please eat you out," Jaemin repeated as if he was sounding out a word. You could hear the smile in his voice, knowing that if you turned back around, he would be looking at you with that shit eating grin he always does to get his way.
"I doubt you could find the clit, let alone make me cum."
Jaemin snickered at your statement, turning your chair around to face him. "Wanna bet?"
"I'm not letting you anywhere near her, especially not when Jeno's in the other room," you deny.
"Jeno would sleep through a war if he could. I think we'll be okay."
Jaemin smiled to himself watching you turn your chair back around to face your monitor.
"You know that's a lie, and I said what I said." You felt a small piece of you die inside when Jaemin crawled under your desk, face directly in between your legs. He couldn't help himself, and he knew there would only be so many times you pushed him away. But you're so predictable, it's almost funny. You love his sleepy voice and his puffy face, and the only reason he knows this is because you can't speak quietly on the phone.
He would listen to your conversations, listen to the way you talked about him, the things you said about him to your friends. He knows you're two faced, telling him one thing and saying another to other people. Jaemin doesn't know if it's a mistake, especially because you out of all people know how thin the walls are, but he doesn't care.
Jaemin pushed your legs open, half lidded eyes staring at your clothed cunt. "I swear you wore these just to provoke me," he mumbled.
"J-Jaemin wait.." you were completely overwhelmed, a little taken back with how fast things were moving. But the way his hands traveled from your legs to your ass was almost enough to make you forget the kind of game you were playing with him.
Jaemin pulled you closer to him, hands gripping you as he buried his face between your legs. "God, you smell so fucking good," he said, inhaling deeply. "I bet you taste even better."
At this point, you were sure Jeno could hear every word coming out his mouth. It shouldn't have turned you on so much, but it did. Was he listening? Is he jealous, mad it's Jaemin who got to you first? Was he touching himself to the thought of you? You wanted to see. You wanted to hear him. You wanted-
"Stop thinking about him." He practically growled.
You gulped, brows shooting to your forehead. "W-what?"
"I know you're wondering if he's really sleeping, if he can hear you." Jaemin's nose nudged on your clothed bud making you gasp softly. "You don't have to wonder. These walls are paper thin."
You didn't protest when he pulled your shorts and panties to your ankles, brian too preoccupied with the fact that you were about to get eaten out after a long time. But even in these circumstances, you couldn't pause your shit talking. "Still don't think you can make me cum."
Jaemin let out a soft chuckle. He didn't answer you or say anything, just pulled you to the edge of your seat and attached his mouth to your core like a moth to a flame. His tongue moved slowly at first, lapping at all your arousal. His nose nudged against your clit, making you shudder as you let out a soft sigh. But you can't give him the satisfaction yet, so you hold it back. You don't look down at him, you do anything to distract yourself from the man between your legs.
Jaemin doesn't care about your attempts to ignore him, all he cares about is proving you wrong like he always does. His thumbs massage the insides of your thighs as he grips your legs tight savoring every feel of the soft flesh. The speed of Jaemin’s tongue quickened as his eyes trailed up your body, his nose continuously nudging your clit. He can hear how much you're trying to stifle your moans not wanting him to know how much you like it.
"Let me hear you."
You kept your mouth closed, biting your lip hard as he continued licking at you. But when he directed his attention to your clit, a reluctant whine escaped your lips. You could feel Jaemin smile against your skin, knowing that you already lost the game you were trying so hard to win. You peeked under your desk for a millisecond only to make direct eye contact with him as he sucked your clit softly. He sucked harder, making you roll your eyes back at the sudden sensation.
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
You still didn't answer, closing your eyes to avoid meeting his own. Jaemin flicked his tongue against you faster than before. You were way too sensitive at this point, every movement he made pulling you closer and closer to an orgasm. But you couldn't cum just yet, not when that was the only thing you were fighting to not do. But god, it just felt so good, too good.
"If you're gonna ignore me, I'm gonna stop," he said.
"N-no." That was the first thing you said in a while. You couldn't believe it, but you needed him to keep going. You wanted him to keep going. Haven't felt the touch of a man in months, this felt like heaven.
"Then say it," he said.
"Say what?"
"What do you want me to do?
"Keep..eating me out.. obviously."
Jaemin chuckled, running his fingertips along your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I'm already doing that. Tell me what you want me to do Y/N."
His tone was softer, less demanding than before. And now you knew what he was getting at. You knew what he wanted you to say, but you didn't want to give into him too easily. But you needed this so bad. "Make me cum," you answer quietly, voice trembling slightly.
"Say that again. I don't think Jeno heard you clear enough," he teased. You shook your head, refusing to speak. He placed a kiss on your clit, laughing softly when you let out a small sigh. "Are you a good girl?"
Reluctantly, you nodded your head, heat rushing to your face.
"Then say it again."
"Make me cum."
"Of course. Anything for you." Jaemin went at you like a starved man, licking and sucking and kissing every part of you, not leaving a single area untouched. You couldn't force yourself to stay quiet, not when only his tongue was working such wonders on you. Your hands naturally made their way to his hair, pushing it back to see his face better. Jaemin's eyes stared right into yours, eyes blown with lust.
"J-Jaemin," you whimpered softly as he flicked his tongue fast on your sensitive bud. He moaned, licking and slurping up your arousal while pulling your body closer to his. At this point, your hips were starting to fall off the edge of the seat. "I-I'm gonna fall, Jaemin."
Jaemin swiftly adjusted you on your seat, mouth never leaving you. He looked up at you, lids low. The sounds filing the room were sinful, the slurping sounds coupled with both of your moans making your head spin. Your hands tugged at his hair softly at every movement of his tongue.
"I bet you need something in you, don't you?" Jaemin's voice went from your ears right to your cunt. He smiled to himself watching you squeeze around nothing, desperate for anything. "How do my fingers sound?"
"Good Jaemin, fuck," you sighed, almost a little too quickly.
"Someone's a little excited," he laughed. "A little too excited for someone who told me I couldn't make her cum."
Jaemin lined two fingers up, pushing them into you slowly. You could almost cry at the feeling, so sensitive anything could send you over the edge. "M-more," you begged.
Jaemin raised a brow, wicked smile on his lips. "You want another one?"
"Please.."
Jaemin added a third finger, pumping them slowly. Sometimes, he's grateful that he loves giving pleasure, especially because of moments like this. You were so pretty above him, moaning out his name and practically melting in front of him. Your hard, stubborn exterior practically shattered as soon as he put his hands on you. It's funny how fast he got you to beg for him even though he knew how bad you wanted it already.
Jaemin licked at your clit while pumping his fingers inside you with a mission, a look of pure bliss spread over your face. "You're so pretty," he breathed out. "I always thought you were pretty."
You couldn't say anything, especially not when he started to finger you faster and his tongue slowed, arousal leaking all over your gaming chair. Your moans and whimpers started to grow in volume. There was no way you could stay quiet enough for Jeno not to hear now. Jaemin sucked your clit hard, making you groan loudly, tugging at his hair. "Jaemin you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.
"I thought I couldn't." He pumped his fingers in and out quicker, grinning as you came closer and closer. "Maybe I should stop."
"J-Jaemin do not f-fuckin stop." You're brows knit, breath increasing every time he pumped his fingers in and out of you. A tight ball formed in your stomach, muscles beginning to tense under his touch. Jaemin gave your clit one hard lick, making you fall apart instantly. You came on his fingers, clenching on them tightly as you let out a shaky moan.
"That's it, let it out," he cooed. "You did so well for me Y/N."
Jaemin took his fingers out of you, sucking them while staring into your eyes. Your hazy expression was making him go crazy, and he knew he shouldn't keep going but he really couldn't help himself.
Jaemin threw your legs over his shoulders, latching his arms over them before you could move away. "This will be quick okay."
You whined when his tongue came in contact with you again, wiggling its way in your core. Jaemin moaned softly, tasting your cum on his tongue. Your weak pushes at his head were cute, so cute that he had to keep going.
"Jaemin please," you whined,"I..I can't.."
He kept staring at you, not intending to move away or stop. "Be a good girl and cum for me." His tongue was attacking your clit at this point, moving over the bud too fast for you to keep up. Jaemin's grip was so strong you couldn't even squirm away from the chair if you wanted to. He sucked hard, the feeling shooting through your body making your hands and legs weak.
Your body trembled when you came again, soft cries of curses spilling from your lips. And Jaemin still didn't stop. He licked up every single drop, not wanting to waste a bit. He didn't know when you were going to let him do this again even though he knew you would come back to him eventually. At this point, he was pretty sure he was addicted to the taste of you, scent of you, just you.
Jaemin finally loosened the grip on your legs, letting them fall off his shoulders. The both of you were breathing heavily since the adrenaline was still rushing. He didn't say anything and neither did you even when he came from under the table. Jaemin stood up, large figure looking over you as you tried to catch your breath.
"I'm going in my room," he said,"I'll..see you later."
You let him leave, not saying a word as you slumped in your seat. You were never going to live this moment down, letting him go down on you like that. And practically control you. And now that he's away, you're going to have to be tortured with hearing him touch himself in the next room over.
But all you could really say at the moment was that it in fact was the best head of your life.
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It'd been 3 days since Jaemin completely overpowered you, beating you at your own game. And being forced to watch him go on with his day like nothing happened was driving you crazy, especially when he kept dropping little references of the events.
What's even worse is Jeno pretending he didn't hear anything. Pretending you weren't practically screaming Jaemin's name 3 days ago. But he did keep staring at you and you couldn't tell what he was thinking. You never could. Jeno was always good at hiding it until he wanted you to know.
And now you're alone in your apartment with him while Jaemin is at work for the night. The last thing you wanted to be was alone with Jeno, especially when he was in a bad mood like now.
You walked into the kitchen wanting to get something to eat without disturbance, but Jeno was already there. You looked at him, body leaning against the counter with his head in his hand. You and Jeno hadn't really had an actual conversation in 3 days. You were a bit afraid of him saying something that would remind you of the sinful things that took place in your room.
You walked past him, not really paying him any mind, but you could still feel his eyes on your back. And just as you were about to reach into the cabinet, he said something you were definitely not expecting.
"You're such a bitch."
You turned around, brow raised so high it could probably hit the roof. "I'm a what now?"
"You're a bitch," he repeated. Jeno looked at you with a straight face. There was nothing in his body language that suggested that he was doing this to mess with you. He was dead serious.
You squint your eyes, scoffing at his words. "Don't call me a bitch."
Jeno gave you a dry laugh, taking his hand from his face. "You don't think it's bitchy to have sex with your roommate when your other roommate was in the other room?"
"Are you mad it wasn't you," you snapped. You watched as Jeno lifted his body off the counter and walked to you slowly. He placed his arm beside your body, leaning close over yours, a dark smirk written across his face.
"I'm just surprised you gave into him so easily seeing that you deny me all the time." He couldn't keep eye contact with you, especially not when you were in the kitchen in nothing but leggings and that goddamn tank top. The white one you constantly wore with nothing underneath. You knew exactly what you were doing, and that's something Jeno always found attractive about you.
"My eyes are up here," you said, lifting his chin to look at you.
Jeno clicked his tongue annoyed. "You always try to put on this tough act, and it's really annoying."
"Can't be as annoying as this conversation."
"Then walk away, unless you wanna keep having this conversation," he said. You hesitated to move, making Jeno laugh. He pulled you back, pushing you on the counter.
"I was walking away," you said, trying to sound completely unphased when you were completely turned on by it.
"You just love playing hard to get, don't you," he mumbled, leaning into your neck. "You love it when we chase. Don't lie." You didn't speak, you just let him kiss your neck softly. He pressed his body against yours, parting your legs with his knee. Jeno wraps a hand around your neck, chuckling softly when your breath hitches. "I can't believe I was letting you walk around here like this without touching you," he mumbled.
Jenos other hand made its way to your ass, groping you roughly. He watched your face, taking in the slight pleasure you felt being at his mercy. Jeno tightened the hold on your neck slightly, earning a soft gasp from you.
"If you're gonna do something, do it," you grumbled.
"What if I wanna take my time with you hm? I bet you'd like that. I mean, you did 3 days ago," he teased. Jeno moved his hand from your ass to between your legs, rubbing you through your leggings. His brow arched at the sticky wet sensation covering his fingers through the fabric. "You aren't even wearing panties. It's like you came in here with the intention of me fucking you."
With one quick movement, Jeno's hand was in your leggings, rubbing you in circles slowly. "It's just funny that you're so quiet now. Make all those pretty noises you made for pretty boy." Jeno pressed his fingers harder into you. He watched as you began to lose yourself with that sweet sinister smile of his. You didn't stop him when he pulled your tank top up, immediately groping your left breast. "God I love these pretty tits."
Your panting was only getting faster, his hand on your clit rubbing you faster while fondling your breast, you could barely hear anything he was saying. You were gonna cum quick, all you needed was a little more and-
"I think I'll stop here. You seem to be enjoying yourself too much."
It's embarrassing how fast you stopped him from pulling his hand out your pants, forcing it back down to where it was before. "Jeno, please don't play around," you pleaded.
He snickered at your pleading, fingers immediately making their way back between your legs. Jeno slowly pushed two inside you, a shaky moan leaving your mouth. He pumped his fingers in you, kissing your lips softly. Having no idea what to do with your hands, you held onto his arms, biceps flexing in your hands. "Jeno," you moaned softly.
"You liked that hm," he said in your ear. "You like it when I touch you like this?"
"Y-yeah."
He fingered you faster, the palm of his hand stimulating your clit at the same time. You held onto his arms tighter, closing your eyes as you let your head fall on his shoulder. The moans and whimpers fell through your lips so easily under his touch. Between his hand on your chest and the one in your pants you could barely concentrate on your surroundings.
So when Jaemin suddenly opened the door when he was supposed to get home three hours from now, startled couldn't even begin to describe how you felt. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at your panicked face. Jeno kept going, not giving a single fuck of who just came in the apartment. But even though you were startled, no matter how compromising the position you were in was, it still managed to turn you on even more.
"Jesus, you're a slut aren't you," Jeno teased. "You love the fact that he came in here unannounced with my fingers in your pussy?"
You shook your head, burying your face in his neck. "S-shut up."
"Are we gonna do this now," Jaemin asked, finally breaking his silence.
You looked over at him, confusion and pleasure on your face. "Do what?"
"I guess we can. But I need her to cum first." Jeno and Jaemin were talking like you weren't even there, saying things you didn't even understand. But every time you thought to ask questions, a moan left your lips, making you squeeze his arm again. "Cum Y/N," he said in your ear lowly. "Cum for me."
Your legs are weak, the only thing holding your body up is Jeno's hand under you. He moves his hand faster, palm rubbing your clit harder. "S-shit.." You came hard, grasping his biceps for dear life before you fell into Jeno’s shoulder.
"I'll never get enough of that face," Jaemin mumbled, teeth toying with his lip as he watched you.
Jeno pulled his hand from your leggings, sticking his fingers in your mouth almost immediately. "Suck."
And you did, swirling your tongue around the digits like you were gonna get a grade for it. Jeno watched you, his usual smirk spreading on his face.
"Fuck, I can't watch this anymore." Jaemin walked over to both of you. Jeno moved out of the way, letting Jaemin pick you up and throw your body over his shoulder.
"Wait, what are you guys doing," you panic.
"Don't play dumb you know exactly what's going on," Jeno answered. They walked to your room, practically kicking the door open. You let out a tiny scream when Jaemin dropped you on your bed with no warning, looking at them completely lost.
"You're so cute, like a lost puppy," Jaemin said. He took his hoodie off, having nothing underneath it. Jeno made quick work of his own shirt, throwing it elsewhere in the room. "Are you gonna be good for us?"
"I-I.." you were in complete shock. This was something you fantasized about for way too long, touching yourself to the thought of both of them taking care of you at the same time. You craved it way more than they would ever know. But everything was happening way too fast. So when Jaemin pushed you down on bed, pulling your leggings off, it was like whiplash. Jeno took your tank off quickly, throwing it in a random place.
Jaemin sat himself behind you, leaning on your head board as he pulled your body to him. Your back was pressed against his chest as he wrapped his big arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. He kissed your neck slowly while Jeno laid between your legs, mouth already attaching to your core.
You let out a small gasp as the feeling of Jeno’s mouth and the feeling of Jaemin's hands on your chest clouded your senses. Jeno ate you out like it was his last meal ever, not giving you enough time to recover from the prior activities in the kitchen. His tongue ravaged you, moans and groans sending vibrations to your clit like crazy. And Jaemin's constant kissing and humming against your skin was not making it better.
"You know I'm kind of a pervert," Jaemin whispered, a small smile on his lips. You were leaning on him, your head falling back on to his shoulder as Jeno worked his tongue on you. Jaemin stared down at the sight between your legs, eyelids getting heavy with lust watching the show in front of him. "I like to watch."
His fingers tweaked and pinched at your nipples, unholy noises spilling from your lips easily. He was growing harder and harder, his bulge rubbing on your ass. "Doesn't it feel good," he whispered in your ear. His soft voice sent butterflies to your stomach, a trembling breath unintentionally making its way out.
"Y-yeah."
"Tell him it feels good." Jaemin rolled your nipples in his fingers making you grip your blanket.
"I-it feels good Jeno," you moaned softly.
"Good girl. You're always so good for me." Jeno hooked his arms around your legs, tugging your body a little lower. Jaemin snickered at your surprised expression, hands still working on your chest. "God you're so cute."
Jeno's tongue moved faster, groaning softly against you constantly. You bit your lip starting to grind on his tongue. Your constant moans filled the room, every single sense becoming heightened when you feel yourself starting to approach your orgasm.
Jaemin tilted your head to him, kissing you messily. His tongue invaded your mouth, dancing with yours as Jeno kept going. He knew you were close, he could tell by the way your breathing was picking up and your trembling hands on the blanket. "You're close, aren't you baby," he mumbled on your lips.
You nodded fast, brows knitting when Jeno sucked your clit hard. Jaemin watched your face as your eyes rolled back and body tense at the sensation.
"Look at me when you cum okay?"
"O-oh my god," you moaned loudly. Your hand shot up to his wrist, squeezing it tightly as your body tense up even more. You couldn’t stop yourself, grinding on Jeno's tongue even harder as you came.
"That's it baby, keep looking at me with those pretty eyes." Jaemin kissed you, biting your lip softly as you moaned into his mouth. His hands left your chest, rubbing them down your naked body.
Jeno stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You always knew he had the body of a Greek god but goodness, it didn't hit you hard until now. Jeno tugged his sweats and boxers off, letting his length spring free. He was big, bigger than you thought. You've felt him through his pants many times on the occasions that he slipped behind you or something. But Jesus, it's nothing like seeing the real thing.
"Face down, ass up," Jeno ordered.
Clumsily, you pulled your body out of Jaemin's arms and flipped yourself over. Trying to get yourself on your knees, you slipped, face falling directly into Jaemin's lap. Jaemin gave you a soft chuckle, hand patting your head as you fixed yourself.
"Where's your condoms," Jeno asked.
"Fuck all of that. I need you Jeno," you whined. You subconsciously wiggled your hips, begging for him to take you right there. You've never been so needy for something in your life, but he managed to bring it out of you.
"You need me?" His tone was condescending and mean, but he had that sweet smile on his face. "How bad do you need me?" He took his length, guiding it up and down your slit.
"Real bad," you breathed out, pushing more against him. "So bad, I could die right now."
"You always had a way with words," he mumbled. Jeno pushed his tip into you slowly, making you smile at the stretch. His brows furrowed as he pushed the rest of himself in you, feeling you squeeze tightly around him.
"Fuck you're so big," you whined softly.
Jeno rocked his hips into you, every movement making you moan softly. Your head was between Jaemin's lap as he watched the other male fuck you from behind. You looked up, feeling a small tap on your head. Jaemin was looking down at you with a smirk on his face.
"You didn't think I was gonna let you and Jeno have all the fun did you?"
Lifting yourself on your elbows, moans and whines falling from your mouth as you pull Jaemin out his sweats. He was just a s big as Jeno, and he knew it. The way he was looking down at you, he knew you would have a hard time. Little did he know you liked having a hard time.
"Spit on it."
His words made you clench around Jeno, making the man behind you groan softly. You did as you were told, letting a ball of saliva fall from your lips onto his tip.
"You listen so well," Jaemin praised.
You were so fucked out of your mind at this point, you wanted nothing but to be praised by him. You licked around his tip, looking up at him for his approval with begging eyes. You sunk your head down more, getting more of him into your mouth, sucking him softly. Your brows furrowed, moaning on his length as Jeno started to speed up his thrust. Jaemin could happily die right here, one of his biggest fantasies unraveling in a way he never imagined. And you were just so open to letting him use you, to letting Jeno use you.
His lids hung low, soft moans and pants leaving his lips as you bobbed your head following Jeno's rhythm. "We should've done this ages ago," Jaemin mumbled, fingers running through your hair. He grasped it hard, following your movements with his hand, but if you kept going, he was surely going to cum in your mouth. Jaemin pulled you off of him slowly, knitting his brows at the loss of your mouth. "You're way too good at that," he huffed out.
Jeno's low grunts mixed with your moans and whimpers made Jaemin grow harder and harder every second. Jeno pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.
"You love this don't you," Jeno breathed.
"Yeah." Your voice was shaky, about to break at any moment.
"All it took was my fingers to break you. God, you're a slut."
You needed more, and you couldn't take the sight of Jaemin sitting in front of you, hard length sitting there untouched. Jaemin's eyes shot to you as you took him in your mouth, immediately bobbing your head. "You really..must want me to cum in your mouth."
You pulled off of him, a string of spit connecting your mouth and his tip. "Y-yeah," you moaned. "Use me."
There was something in Jaemin's eyes that changed. Without a word he gasped as he pushed himself back into your mouth. You opened your mouth as far as you could letting him fuck your mouth like you were his own personal fleshlight. Your eyes were screwed shut, the impact of Jeno inside you and Jaemin constantly hitting the back of your throat sending you into a sensory overload. You were so sensitive, everything was starting to hurt, but it hurt so good.
You gagged, tears immediately gathering in your water line. Jaemin pulled you off him, breathing heavily seeing you caught and moaning at Jeno's movements. Spit was dribbling down your chin, but it's not like you could've known anyway. Not when Jeno was fucking you like he wanted to get you pregnant. You wouldn't mind it honestly, and you know he wouldn't either.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jeno grunted through his teeth. He lifted his knee, one foot laying flat on the mattress to get a better angle. "Gonna cum deep inside this pretty pussy."
At this point you were sure you weren't going to be able to walk the next day or the day after that. You felt your body becoming tense, a tight ball forming in your stomach. "J-Jeno, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered loudly.
"Open your mouth."
Jaemin's voice startled you for a second, completely overtaken with the feeling of Jeno. You glanced down seeing Jaemin stroke himself fast. He looked so pretty when he was about to cum. The sweat glistened on his forehead, mouth hanging open, pretty pink cock pulsing in his hand. You opened your mouth, panting loudly feeling yourself come closer and closer to your orgasm.
And just as Jaemin came, letting the thick ropes of cum hit your tongue and face all over, so did you, squeezing tightly around Jeno like you were holding him in for dear life. Loud moans and whimpers bounced off the walls while your hands gripped your blanket so tight it hurt. But Jeno wouldn't stop, not until he came deep in you.
"How does a mini me running around here sound," he chuckled darkly.
"Good, so fucking good." You were delirious. You didn't even know what you were agreeing to at this point, not until he gripped your hips hard and painted your insides white. The panic didn't set in until 2 seconds later, your brows knitting in worry, but you also felt yourself liking it. You liked that he didn't pull out, and it felt so good. Like he owned you.
Your body slumped as Jeno pulled out of you, breathing heavily into your arms. You shuddered, feeling him push his seed back into you as it fell down your thighs.
Jaemin couldn't wait for you to catch your breath, getting up when Jeno moved off the bed behind you. Jaemin took your body, flipping you into your back with one quick movement.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he said, stripping completely naked in front of you.
You couldn't even speak, your throat was too sore to say anything and your brain was completely fried. Jaemin lifted your legs, spreading them gently.
"I'm not like him," he said, tone sweeter than you expected. "I won’t fuck you so rough." His eyes scanned your body, going from your cum covered face to your pretty chest, to your cunt. "But I will make you scream my name."
Jaemin lined his length with your core, pushing himself in you in one swift motion. You held your legs up, staring at where the both of you met. When Jaemin started thrusting into you, you couldn’t keep your voice down. Every movement he made felt like heaven. The raspy whimpers that left your mouth were music to his ears - it made him want to fuck you till your couldn't even remember your name.
"You're so good for me," he breathed, smiling when you nodded fast.
You looked beside you, seeing Jeno watch the both of you, touching himself. "Come here," you breathed.
Jeno bit his lip softly, doing what you said. You moved his hand, replacing it with your own as you lifted your head, wrapping your lips around his cock. You looked up at him, batting your lashes as you sucked him off. Jeno can't remember a time where he was turned on this much in his life. You were just so good, so weak, so careful even when you were being fucked way past your limit.
"She's still so tight after you fucked her open." Jaemin snapped his hips into you hard, making you groan loudly around Jeno. "What a fucking slut."
Jeno chuckled darkly looking at your desperate soft expression. It was funny to him, how you still managed to look cute and innocent with a dick in your mouth and cum on your face.
Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as they both rocked into you at different yet quick paces, causing your mind to spin miles a minute. “God she’s so fucking good for us, taking both our cocks so well. You feel good baby?”
Jeno’s words caused you to shake in pleasure, moaning around him in response. There was no way you’d ever be able to feel this good with anyone else. You didn’t just feel good, you felt fucking euphoric.
“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” you let out a muffed cry as Jaemin’s hand found it’s way to your sensitive clit. Rolling and pinching it between his fingers. The desperation in Jaemin’s voice paired with your over sensitive body from your first orgasm created a whole new level of pleasure. You were close…And they both knew it.
The way you tightened around Jaemin and the high pitched moans breaking past your cock stuffed mouth was a dead giveaway. “Are you going to come for us again Y/N? Is being double stuffed making you feel good?” Something about the tone of Jeno’s voice was just what you needed to be sent over the edge.
Your orgasm shook through you in waves. “F-fuck I’m cumming Y/N. Take it well baby.” Jaemin rocked into you before stilling his hips. Shooting his seed deep into you with breathy groans.
Not being too far behind Jeno’s pace became sloppy. Once a consistent quick pace he now fucked your mouth with unsteady thrusts. Jeno held your head in place as he came in your mouth making sure you took every single drop he had to give. Once he was done he slowly pulled himself out of your mouth.
Jaemin pulled out of your pussy causing you to clench at the sudden loss of him. Suddenly your mind felt as if it was on autopilot. As you felt his cum leak out of your hole you pulled Jeno down into a heated kiss feeling him groan from the taste of him on your tongue. “Oh? Forgetting all about me now?”
Jaemin pouted as you pulled away from Jaemin weakly reaching out to the man. Smiling he leaned down kissing you passionately. “Did you have fun Y/N?” Not having too much energy left you nodded leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Cmon Y/N let’s get you cleaned up.”
The three of you would definitely need to have a conversation later about their little ambush but for now you think I’d be okay to let it slide.
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yoonia · 5 months
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Ever A Never After — story masterpost
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⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Summary | Growing up in the fairy tale land, your whole life seems to have been written perfectly in the books, with the picturesque life and the Prince Charming that you can see yourself having your happily ever after with. But your entire world turns upside down when you are suddenly sent into a whole new world, a different kind of universe where happily ever after doesn’t exist. Thrust into a new challenge and shown a new side of life, you find yourself standing in a crossroad. When the moment arises, would you find your way back home to your true love, or is the universe trying to show you that sometimes happy endings don’t have to be written so perfectly?
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⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Angst, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; specific warnings will be added accordingly on each published chapters ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: Ever A Never After: Act 2 - Part 1 (Sept 16th, 2024) - 35,098 words of n/a words  ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion ⟶ Cross-posted in AO3 and Wattpad
⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After
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⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). In place of the coding, you’ll find a blank space as her name. Please also note that our main character/reader insert for this story has her own nickname that will be used in the scenes. While the story is adapted from the movie, Enchanted, with some characters and places that were mentioned in the movie added into this story, I will be adding changes in the story settings, characters’ names and background stories to fit the plot. That being said, as someone who has never set foot in the land of America, forgive me if there are some inaccuracies in the details that are being added here. I hope that doesn’t change your reading experience with the story.
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⟶ Chapters
⇢ Act One. Andalasia, The Maiden, and The Dream Prince [“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” “It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” | Word count: 19,688 words | posted: May 21st, 2024 | Chapter Teaser]
⇢ Act Two. The Alter World and The Saviour [“I need to find my way back to the castle.” “What castle?” “Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” “Huh, right. Why don’t I just call you an Uber?” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
— Part 1. Welcome to the Alter World [Word count: 15,410 words of n/a words - posted on: Sept 16th, 2024] — Part 2. The World Without Magic [Word count: — of n/a words - posted on: — ]
⇢ Act Three. Fairy Tales and Bittersweet Endings [“You forgot to say the part where you lived happily ever after.” “Happily ever after? That thing doesn’t exist, not in the real world.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
⇢ Act Four. The Ball for The Kings and Queens and Dragons [“There is a ball for the Queen and Kings at the start of spring. Shall we go together?” “As your Prince Charming, I’ll be happy to escort you.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
⇢ Act Five. Prince Charming and a Happily Never After [“Look at how the tables have turned, as now I have in my hand the Prince who is supposed to protect the princess.” “Come along now, dear. You wouldn’t want to miss the ending.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
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⟶ Fic talk & references
⇢ image reference
⇢ readers feedback & discussions
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⟶ Patreon specials
⇢ visual inspiration board
⇢ fic commentary (coming soon)
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⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | It’s finally here! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. As mentioned in our last talk, there will be some changes from the original prompt/details that I’ve made to make the story work better, but I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it still. I have decided to release this one as a mini-series to present the timeline more appropriately and make the storyline work. Have fun reading!
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— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.
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navybrat817 · 9 months
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The Dad Diaries: Welcome Home
Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky reflects on the first night with his son home and puts his thoughts to paper.
Word Count: Over 1.2k
Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?).
A/N: Welcome to The Dad Diaries! This AU will focus on Bucky and his relationship with his son (and you!) ❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky stared intently at the open blank journal that sat in the middle of his office desk. He had picked up the pen a few minutes ago, but hadn’t written a single word. Why did he feel stuck? Better yet, what was he thinking by doing this? Reading often came easy to him, but writing? That was something else entirely.
It was also something he wanted to do.
He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and wondered if he should call it a night, crawl into bed with you, and try tomorrow. No, he didn’t want to push it off before he even began. Glancing at the monitor, he heard your voice in his head, a memory of something you told him in the early stages of dating:
The best writing comes from the heart. Write what you and your heart love because no one knows that story better than you.
Bucky had plenty of stories to tell. How he became a hero and a good man after years of pain and darkness. Or how he fell in love with you and became your husband.
And his newest adventure of becoming a father.
He wasn’t sure how to be a dad yet, but he knew he loved his son. That was more than enough to start. And with a smile tugging at his lips, he put the pen to paper.
Hey, Nugget,
My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. Your mom calls me her husband and I’m the luckiest man in the world for that, especially since she gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for: you.
Your name is James, too. Your mom doesn't know if we’ll call you Jamie or JJ, but I have a feeling you'll hear a bit of both. And one day, I’ll get to hear you call me Dad. Or Dada or Daddy or Papa.
Whatever makes you happy.
He paused in his writing when he thought he heard something on the monitor. His eyes flickered to the screen again and he breathed a little easier when he saw that his baby was still sleeping soundly in the middle of the crib. It wouldn’t stop him from checking on him later, just to be on the safe side.
I’m so glad you’re home. In fact, tonight is your first night in the nursery. I hope you like it here. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A house is made with walls and beams: a home is built with love and dreams.”
Yeah, your old man likes to read. Maybe you will, too. I even have an original copy of The Hobbit and would love to give it to you when you're older.
Books lined the far wall of Bucky’s office, many of them worn from the amount of times he read them. He made sure Jamie’s room had a reading nook, too. It was one of the only things he asked for when the two of you designed the nursery.
I hope you get enough sleep tonight. Your mom, too. You both did great at the hospital and deserve all the rest you can get.
Would you believe me if I said I was a nervous wreck when I brought your mom in, but tried not to let it show? People call me strong, but I don’t think I ever witnessed true strength until I saw how steady of a rock she was. She blew me away, which didn't surprise me. She amazes me every day.
Hearing your first cry stopped my heart and brought tears of joy to my eyes. After nine months of waiting and talking to your mom’s stomach, you were finally here. And seeing her hold you made me fall in love all over again.
Sorry if that sounds sappy, but it’s true. She looked right at me with happy tears in her eyes and said, “Bucky, look! Look at what we made! It's our little Nugget!” and my heart swelled. She insisted on calling you that and it rubbed off on me. Believe me when I say that you are the luckiest baby in the world to have the mother that you do.
He stopped writing again to glance at his wedding band, smiling all over again. He thought your love filled his heart before, but it overflowed now. It warmed him like nothing else ever could.
You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this since a lot of time will pass by the time you read this. Sometimes I may write to remember things I’m afraid I’ll forget. Other days I’ll write to reflect and get the words out when my mind is too loud. But my hope is that this will be a gift to you.
A bond for the two of us.
As you grow, I’ll fill the pages with the memories of you and our family. I’ll tell you about my past and how it shaped me into the man I am today. How your mom and I met and how I somehow convinced her to fall in love with me. And I’ll be sure to tell you about the day she told me we were going to have you and how that news changed my life for the better.
He swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued.
I also plan to fill this with your milestones. Like your first smile. Is it selfish if I hope to see it first? If not me, your mom. She’d love that. Your first step. Being selfish again, but I hope it’s me you walk toward so I can pick you up and tell you how proud I am. And your first word. I hope it’s Mama.
Though I won’t object if you say Dada.
Bucky chuckled as he imagined the look of betrayal on your beautiful face if your son said “Dada” first instead of “Mama”.
I’m sure some days I’ll have more to say than others. If I’m lucky, I can pass on life lessons and words of wisdom. Some days though I may not say the right thing and I know I’ll stumble along the way as I figure out how to be the best dad to you. I say “best” and not “perfect” because perfection doesn’t exist. Except for you and your mom.
The beauty of it is that I don’t have to go it alone. I’ll have your mom by my side to help guide and protect you and to watch you flourish. And my hope is that you know as you look through the pages how much we love you.
Even on days I may not get it right, I’m your dad, you’re my son, and you’ll always have a home with me and a place in my heart.
I’ll write more when I can, Nugget. Until then, I love you.
Always,
Dad
Bucky set the pen down as he exhaled. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was a start. As long as he put his heart into his words, it would shine from the pages.
And he couldn't wait for all the adventures he’d have with his little Nugget.
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I hope you lovelies are excited to take this journey with Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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an-idyllic-novelist · 8 months
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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.
Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.
If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)
Reblog to support content creators!
Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.
 Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way. 
So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around. 
Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you. 
You, who believed in Charlie’s work.
You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.
You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it. 
He lost the ability to feel anything years ago. 
Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others. 
You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much. 
In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner.  They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk. 
When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess. 
Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do. 
Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day. 
When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out. 
He saw you cook  finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish  even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands. 
He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War. 
Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit. 
A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day. 
Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it. 
Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake  whiny bitch. 
As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that. 
And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.
It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong. 
One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel. 
Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them. 
Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore. 
Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no. 
That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a  shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle. 
THUD.
Shnk.
THUD.
C-crack.
THUD.
“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!” 
“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other. 
He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army.  When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck. 
He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply. 
Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around  scratching, kicking,  and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.
The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off  him and inhaling deep gulps of  precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands. 
“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting. 
Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right. 
“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?” 
“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed  your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character. 
You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked. 
“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”
“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.
“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.
“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”
“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”
“Yes.”
“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”
“Yes.”
“Food for plants.”
“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones. 
Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin. 
“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?” 
Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?
You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of you, quick work was made with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts. 
You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a  block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too. 
Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass. 
Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it. 
Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards. 
They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.
You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. 
“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone. 
“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest. 
“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.” 
Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right.  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering. 
He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse. 
Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck. 
He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”
Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit. 
You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”
Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw  before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.
“What-”
“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there? 
So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below,  your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.
You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places. 
It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination. 
Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his. 
He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.” 
A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”
You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.
“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”
You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”
“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special. 
You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight. 
“It’s done.”
“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”
You faltered. “But -”
“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.
Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking. 
But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight. 
As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms. 
“Husk?”
“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass. 
“Thank you…for everything.”
His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome." 
He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory? 
And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens. 
What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter. 
Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats
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papercorgiworld · 9 months
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Christmas saviours
Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo and Mattheo
A bit of an angsty beginning because of some Christmas loneliness, but you need not worry our most handsome Slytherins will save Christmas Eve with fluff and kisses.
Warning: only kisses and maybe some suggestiveness
Not proofread, feedback always welcome.
I planned on finishing another fic, but ended up writing Christmas fluff. I hope you enjoy it! I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and for those who don’t celebrate Christmas, I wish you a most wonderful day.
Christmas, you loved it! Every year you celebrated with your family and created some lovely memories. Although you knew this year would be different, you were confident that also this year you would manage to create wonderful memories.
You had only recently moved to the UK and this was your first year at Hogwarts. You were definitely the odd one out. Everyone in your year already knew each other for years and then there was you: new and permanently lost in the castle. You had made some friends, but also weren’t gonna win any popularity contests any time soon.
The news that your parents had to work this Christmas made your stomach turn and your heart physically hurt. However, you were already in the Christmas spirit so you were hopeful that you could still figure something out. You consoled your parents by telling them that it would be good to spend Christmas at Hogwarts to make friends.
And that was the plan. You invited everyone you had ever talked to at Hogwarts and also everyone from your year. And you learned a lot, like some people really need to learn how to say no in a polite way and most people go home for Christmas. Now Christmas eve was only a day away, two people had confirmed they were coming and there were two people left on your list who hadn’t responded. Possibly four people would show up, worst case scenario two.
Being hopeful and in full Christmas spirit you did your shopping, preparing everything for an unforgettable Christmas eve. On your way from Hogsmeade one of your invitees came running towards you. “Hey (y/n), so glad to catch.” You smiled brightly. “Here to help me with the groceries?” Your friend smiled. “Uhm, no, but I’ll help.” You’re pleased you can let go of some of the heavy bags. “I was actually looking for you, because I got great news, my parents made it back in time after all. So, me and my brother are leaving in half an hour. I'm really sorry we gotta miss out on your Christmas dinner.” Your smile fades, but you immediately force a fake one onto your lips.
Walking into the room of requirement you finally fall apart. You watch as Hogwarts conjures the most picturesque Christmas scene you’ve ever seen. Tears softly make their way down your cheeks, but you don’t sob, you try to ignore your misery. With shaky hands you put everything you bought in its designated spot. When you kneel down to set the four small Christmas gifts you bought under the tree you finally admit to yourself that you’ll be spending tomorrow evening alone, unwrapping your own gifts. After your moment of self pity you make your way down to your dorm.
The next morning you decide that there is still hope! Though the chances are slim, there’s still a chance one of the two who haven’t responded yet will show up or maybe both. You try and find them throughout the day, but fail. Around 5 you start dressing up. Around 6 you light the candles for your grand Christmas eve party.
Your heart twists and turns as it's hurting terribly, like it would rather stop beating than suffer another minute of agonizing loneliness. You stuff your face with delicious snacks. “What was I thinking? Like someone was gonna show up. I watched too many mushy Christmas movies. Christmas is overrated anyway! I’m turning into the grinch! Uh, I’m talking to myself! I’m going insane, might as well steal everyone’s Christmas next year.” You stop ranting and grab a plate, ready to start cleaning up and go to bed at 7.
Blaise
Suddenly the door opens and you stare in disbelief as Blaise Zabini walks in. “I was in the neighborhood, though I would stop by.” Like a deer caught in headlights you stand still. “Early? Aren’t I?” He looks around the empty room and continues. “If you want I can help you prepare.” You look down at your feet wondering what to say. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” “Thanks.” You put down the plate you were holding and manage to gather enough courage to be honest. “Everything is ready. And you’re not early. No one showed up.”
Blaise seems shocked by the news and makes his way around the table to you. “What? That’s horrible. All your effort.” His hands rest on your arms, giving you comfort. “I’ll live.” You say playing it down, but your glassy eyes betray you. “But why are you here? I expected everyone to be at their respective parties.” Blaise’s lips formed a line and you could see he was in deep thought for a second. “I am.” You looked confused at the Slytherin in front of you. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” You frowned and smiled at the same time. Happy with the news but not quite sure what to think about it.
“So… what’s for dinner?” You wanna question everything he’s doing, but his excitement distracts you and you start telling him about all that you had prepared. You two have a lovely dinner together. Blaise is his most charming self as he wants nothing more than to make you forget that no one else showed up. To any outsider it would look as if you two had planned to spend Christmas together. But you kept wondering why he was here. You had to ask. “Why were you in the neighborhood?” A lot of stutters escaped a normally always easy talker, which made you question whether he was in the neighborhood at all. “There was no reason for you to be here, was there?” Realizing it was pointless to come up with excuses, he confessed. “I know I told you I wasn’t coming to your party but I have a little something and that’s why I stopped by.”
You found his choice of words odd. “A little something? Like a gift?” Blaise thought for a moment. “No, not really. Stand up for me will ya?” He got up and you did the same as he requested. He signaled you to come closer and when you still stood too far away he gently tugged your hand until your chest almost met his. He smiled a little goofy and only after a moment did you realize he was nervous. Blaise reached for something in the inner pocket of his jacket. You watch him carefully pull out a branch of mistletoe. He held in between the two of you. “I brought mistletoe.” You laughed as he stated the obvious. “Isn’t it supposed to be above the person you wish to kiss?” He nodded and reached for his wand.
Casting Levioso made the branch float above the both of you. Blaise reached for both your hands and you in return took a step closer. You were now pressed against one another. “Merry Christmas, (y/n).” He leaned in. “Merry Christmas, Blaise.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him.
Draco
The door slams open and you’re shocked to see Draco Malfoy of all people. Is he lost? He looks around smugly, one hand in his pocket and a smirk on his face. “Quiet the party, new girl.” Gesturing towards the empty room. “Trust me the atmosfeer was great until you came in.” You immediately snapped back. He simply huffed and walked towards the table examining all the different dishes. “So where are you guests?” He asked sincerely but without looking up from the food. “I guess everyone had other parties to attend. Understandable.” Your voice was so soft and defeated it made Draco look up at you worried that you might start crying any moment.
He wasn’t really good at situations like these so he quickly made his way over to the drinks. “May I?” He asked politely, gesturing to a bottle of champagne. You nodded. “But it’s probably too cheap for your taste.” Draco gave the bottle one look, shrugged, and opened it anyway. “I’ve already had expensive champagne and cheap company today. Got bored. So I decided to come here for cheap champagne and better people.” You take the glass he offers you. “I’m sorry, it’s a ‘cheap champagne and no people’ kinda party.” He takes a rather large swing from the glass and looks at you with a softness you’ve never seen before. “I’ll take you and your cheap champagne over my family’s horrible Christmas party anytime. So, will you have me as your guest?” You nod with glittering eyes. You quickly explain all the different options your table offers.
He tastes everything and overflows you with compliments. His table manners are exquisite and he even teaches you some little details of fancy dining. But most of all you spent your time laughing at all the ridiculous parties his family organizes. It helps him vent and your laugh makes him heal, like it’s all alright now that you agree it’s just as absurd as he thinks it is. After you’ve finished dining you turn to the tree and the gifts underneath. “If you still have time I’ve got four gifts under the tree. It’s just little trinkets, but to leave them unopened just feels horrible.” The Slytherin stares at you with wide eyes as you make your way to the tree to pick up one of the gifts. When you turn around with a gift in your hands he gets up from his seat in a hurry. “I can’t stay.” Is all he says as he picks up his scarf.
“Just one gift.” Your voice is almost a whisper and Draco closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s just, I have nothing for you. I come barging in, eating all the food and now gifts, while I have nothing to give-“ “You showed up! You saved my Christmas. You’re like my hero.” Draco feels like he’s going to burst with emotion at your words. He… a hero, it made him feel like a whole different person. “Truth is, (y/n) you saved me and not just my Christmas, all of me.” Only now you realize how close together you are with only the gift between you two. He looks so fragile and that’s probably why you suddenly felt the courage and need to go in for a soft kiss. He was shocked for a moment with eyes wide, but surrendered to your warmth and kissed back, his hand reaching for the back of your head to deepen the kiss.
“Will you now open a gift?” You ask again when you break the kiss. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, anything for my princess.”
Enzo
“I’m here!” You stare at energetic Berkshire as he comes through the door announcing his presence. “Might have nicked something fancy that might just save your Christmas.” He holds a bottle of expensive firewhisky up. “What are you doing here?” You asked, confused by his presence and enthusiasm. His smile softens and he puts the bottle down on the table. “I had a suspicion that the new girl’s Christmas party wasn’t going to be a great success.” You felt horrible hearing him say the obvious. He walked around the table towards you.
“I’m here to keep you company.” You huff at his offer. “I don’t need your pity. I’m sure you have plenty of other places to be.” Enzo grabs your hand as you try to turn away from him in an attempt to hide your misery. “You need my pity, this is a pitiful party.” You try to force your hand out of his grip but he has a surprisingly tight hold of you and you end up closer to him. “And also, there’s nothing for me at the other parties, because the cute new girl isn’t there.”
You look in his gentle eyes wondering if he really means it. “You want to spend Christmas eve with me?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer. He nods and an adorable smile tugs at your lips as you no longer can contain your happiness. During dinner Enzo catches you up on all the latest gossip. But after a while you get worried if people gossip this much at Hogwarts then for sure they will talk about your lame party. It’s this concern that leads you to ask for a favor. “Uhm. Enzo, about my party… could you not tell anybody. Like I can just say that I canceled it. I mean.. I really don’t want people figuring out about my lame Christmas party.”
“Can’t.” You stare at him as he swallows a bite of his desert. “If your party didn’t happen then where was I. I can’t have people thinking I was alone.” “But telling people you were at the new girl’s lame party won’t do your reputation any good either.” Enzo shakes his head and gets up from his seat opposite of you to take a seat next to you. “Darling, this is not a lame party. It’s a lovely party. We’ve got amazing decorations, delicious food, firewhisky, gifts under the tree and each other. Are you not happy?” You turn to him, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were so caught up with what people would think rather than when you think. “Of course, I was being stupid. This is a lovely Christmas, thank you Enzo.”
His smile turns cheeky. “Yeah, I kind of saved your Christmas eve. Didn’t I?” You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, yes you definitely saved my evening.” Enzo licks his lips in a mischievous way. “A kiss on the cheek?! That's all a guy gets for saving Christmas?” You laugh at his dramatics. You fake a scoff and get up from your seat. “Enzo, have you no shame.” Suddenly he grabs you pulling you into his lap, a giggle escaping your lips. “No.” He states and wiggles his eyebrows. “Fine.” You kiss him softly and bite his lip softly while purposely pressing your chest against his, giving him more than he bargained for. The kiss deepens and his hand slips to your thighs resting there and gently squeezing. “I definitely know some guys who’re going to be jealous when they hear about this party.” “Shut up, Enzo.” You say playfully before kissing him again.
Theo
Theodore Nott? Unbelievable? To avoid any snarky comments you decide to diss yourself before he gets the chance. “Welcome to the most boring Christmas party ever.” Theodore simply snorts at your fake enthusiasm. “Pretty sure, I just came from the world’s most boring Christmas party.” You huff. “Wow, I suck even in organising lame parties.” Theo looks around. “Pretty sure this doesn’t qualify as a party.” You narrow your eyes, how does he manage to always have the last word.
“What are you doing here, Nott?” You ask as your frustration with Theo beats the sadness over your party. “If I remember correctly you said my Christmas enthusiasm was as overrated as my academic skills.” Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. women and their need to remember every stupid thing he says. “Sounds like me, probably was me. But clearly I’m desperate… so, do you take in strays?” Your attitude disappears as you look at him, he was in his way sincerely asking if he could stay.
“Of course. You’re very welcome.” Your voice comes out with a little more doubt than planned, but Theo takes your welcome anyway. You both sit opposite of one another. “You must be really desperate if you came to my party?” You ask softly, no snarkiness in your tone. “You must be really desperate for a guest if you let me in, after all I’ve not been my kindest self around you.” You look at the food on your plate. “I’m really desperate, since obviously no one bothered to show up aside from you. But also I can see the humor in most of the insults you throw at me.” A warm smile appears on the slytherin’s face, feeling understood and a little less bad.
For the most part your evening is filled with humorous insults and snarky comments, but as time passes your rivalry ebbs away. The conversations get more serious and Theo almost exclusively has words of endearment for you. His softness envelopes you and your Christmas joy finds its way to Theodore. After lounging on the couch for a while you pull yourself back up. “Gifts? I’ve got four and they’re all for you.” He growls gutturally. “I don’t like gifts, plus I don’t have one for you.” You frown. “Who doesn’t like gifts? You absolute weirdo.” Theo laughs at your unfiltered opinion of him. He pushes himself to sit straight and watches you pick out the first gift. You don’t see how fragile he looks as he watches your gentleness.
When you go sit next to him and joyfully present him the gift he looks in your eyes. “Come on.” You urge like an impatient child. “Fine, but me first.” You frown and purse your lips. “You said you didn’t have anything.” Out of his pocket a fumbled piece of paper appears. “It’s not something I wanted to share, but it’s Christmas right, so why not.” He nonchalantly pushes it to you, waving the paper impatiently, like he wants to be rid of it. When you take it he looks away avoiding your confused gaze. You ignore his bizarre behavior and gently unfold the paper, revealing a sketch of you: you paying attention during class, probably transfigurations.
Theo’s still looking at anything but you. You shuffle closer to him and cup his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. “You drew this? I love it. Thank you.” “You’re a bit of a distraction during class. Probably why I’ve been picking on you.” A soft laugh rolls over your lips when you hear his confession. “And how do I distract you? As you can see all I do is pay attention like a good student.” You hold the sketch up to him as proof. “You do a lot more than that, (y/n). You get me thinking.” You can’t contain your smile. “I get you thinking? How awful of me.” He hisses at your mockery, but when he closes what little space there was between the two of you, your confidence fades. “You have me thinking about doing this” His lips catch yours, he kisses you with so much passion your whole body goes crazy for him in an instant. When he finally releases you, your head feels hazy. “What’s that all about?” Theo grins, enjoying the obvious effect he has on you. “This is my Christmas spirit, I’m feeling generous.” Is all he says before he pushes you to lay on the couch and continues to kiss you with unrelenting passion.
Mattheo
You hear noise at the door and turn to look at it slowly open. You hold your breath, still holding the plate as Mattheo Riddle walks in. Holding flowers in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He looks at you, but you just stare quietly and then he looks around the room. “Oh, I’m too late. I’m so sorry.”
Mattheo Riddle, Slyhterin bad boy, Slytherin trouble maker, son of the dark lord, most handsome guy in your year - maybe even all of Hogwarts - show up to your lame Christmas party with flowers and apologies. Weird. You had indeed invited him, when you announced that everyone was welcome during potions class but you were pretty sure he was among the people making fun of you.
You snapped out of your thoughts, someone was here, you were in no position to be picky about who it was. “No, you’re not late.” He looks confused at the empty seats. “Then where is everyone?” You look around feeling exposed, but look back up at his questioning face. You bite your lip, trying to think of a lame excuse but finding none. “Uhm, no one showed up, except for you.” You eventually manage to say, eyes getting glassy. Mattheo makes a soft ‘oh’ sound and you quickly try to get rid of the awkward situation.
“There’s plenty of food if you wanna stay. And also four gifts for you, since you know no one showed up.” Mattheo stays silent for a few seconds. “But you don’t have to stay, this probably isn’t your ideal Christmas eve.” The slytherin simply shrugs. “It’s not like I have anything better to do and the food looks divine.” You can’t help but chuckle as the awkwardness ebbs away. “Flowers for the hostess.” He offers you the lovely winter bouquet he had been holding. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you take them and conjure a vase.
Dining together has you feeling like you’ve known Mattheo your whole life. You’re surprised by so many things he tells you, but most of all by how easy it is to talk to him. After the desert you make your way to the couch near the Christmas tree. With the table between the two of you gone things feel different and you both fall silent. “You were actually the last person I thought would show up and yet here we are. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself so far. Because I definitely have.”
Mattheo stares at you fondly but doesn’t say anything. “Anyways let’s start with the gifts.” As you stand up to reach for one of the gifts Mattheo pulls you down. You now sit so close that your hips are touching and he’s still holding on to your wrist. “This whole evening has been wonderful. You’re wonderful, (y/n).” It sounds like a love confession and you hold your breath. “And at the risk of ruining this evening, I would like to kiss you. Is that okay with you?” Your heart melts, you can’t believe this and no one at Hogwarts will ever believe this. You nod softly, insecure about what you’re getting yourself into.
His hand holds your cheek and you lean in as his lips reach yours, light as a feather his lips brush yours. Ever so slowly Mattheo deepens the kiss, making you go crazy with desire for more. When you lay your hand on his leg for support he sees it as a signal that you are comfortable with him and snakes an arm behind you to pull you closer. Only when the kiss ends do you realize you’re laying in his arms. “When I said let's start with the gifts I didn’t know one of the gifts was wrapped up with a tie and good looks.” You joke as you undo his already loose tie. He smirks as he watches you all comfortable and confident in his arms.
His free hand reaches for your leg urging you come sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He pulls you in for another tender kiss. “I did actually bring a gift for you. So if you really want to unwrap-“ You cut him off by slamming your lips into his with passion and eagerness. He complies and pulls you closer into him until there’s no space left. “And here I thought you were all innocent and cute.” Mattheo says, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm. “I’m, I’m just being a good hostess by making sure my one and only guest is having a good time.” Mattheo’s face lights up with genuine happiness. “No doubt you’re a good hostess, pretty sure you would make a wonderful girlfriend as well.”
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f1fnatic · 9 months
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XNDA ⤿ l. hamilton 44
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→ ( in which. . . ) you, a famous musician, release a new album with an unknown feature. you both post suspicious photos of random people on your respective social medias. your fans start to connect you with a highly decorated formula one driver.
→ ( part. . . ) 1 of 2
→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) social media au
→ ( face claim. . . ) christina aguilera
→ ( pairing. . . ) lewis hamilton x singer!reader
→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) fluff, setting the plot
→ ( author's note. . . ) this is my first ever social media au, it was super fun to mess around with this fic. i hope you enjoy! see end for more.
→ ( masterlist )
─ INSTAGRAM ↴
y/nmusic
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liked by theweeknd, lewishamilton, pharell and 2,873,409 others
y/music i am so excited to announce my 8th studio album liberation! i have worked so hard to produce this and had so much fun creating this album.
i would like to thank everyone who featured in these songs, you were all such a joy to work with! i would also like to thank my person for being my rock and helping me when i felt that this project was not moving/going anywhere, i love you so much <3
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user5 so excited!!
user17 mother is mothering
pharell it was a pleasure to work with you liked by y/nmusic
f1lover lewis is lurking...
lewishamilton cannot wait to listen 🖤
f1ishamilton THE HEART???
roscoe4ever EXCUSE ME??? WHAT IS THIS?
user12 who is the "rock"...
user29 "my person" ???!!!?!?!?!
gwenstefani so so so proud of u ❤ liked by y/nmusic
─ TWITTER ↴
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─ INSTAGRAM ↴
y/nmusic
📍 brackley, england
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liked by lewishamilton, pharrell, taylorswift, gwenstefani and 3,173,562 others
y/nmusic a weekend away ❤️
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user4 hope you had fun!!
y/nmusic i did thank you 🫶🏻
user4 OH MY GOD Y/N???
f1lvr lewis is lurking AGAIN.
gwenstefani girl who are u holding hands with?
y/nmusic calling u rn dw gwen
y/nstan LOL not even gwen knows this is crazy
y/nfan gf who is the guy 🤨
y/nfan2 there goes another parasocial relationship
y/nlover3 scratching my eyes out (i am so happy for her)
lh444 the location???
roscoe4ever RIGHT like hello??
taylorswift i miss you ml ☹️
y/nmusic i'll be back soon dw!
lewishamilton
📍 brackley, england
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liked by y/nmusic, sebastianvettel, fencer, roscoelovescoco and 4,367,981 others
lewishamilton recharging with the ones i love most 🖤
tagged: roscoelovescoco
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lewisfan i am soooooooo normal about this (i am going crazy)
lewisfan2 me too (i am actually ripping my hair out)
roscoelovescoco love's you's dad's 🐾
lh444 sometimes i forget that lewis runs his dogs account, i remember, and then get the ick
y/nfan7 what is y/n doing here
sebastianvettel you look like you are having fun! liked by y/nmusic and lewishamilton
lewisfan3 the matching shoes 😭
lewisy/nshipper not him using the same black heart emoji he used on the liberation announcement?
y/nfan okay grandma lets get u back to bed
─ TWITTER ↴
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i am back!! i am so sorry for taking such a long hiatus, i have had no motivation to write, i get ideas but then hate how i make them. i hope you all enjoy this fic! thank you for reading! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)
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justabigassnerd · 10 months
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Protected
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Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader
Word count - 1,654
Warnings - creepy guys, protective Jake & Mickey, being made uncomfortable, angst, fluff
Summary - when you get bothered by customers at work, Jake and Mickey can't just stand by and watch
A/N - hey y'all! sorry it's taken me so long to get a new fic out, I swear I'm trying to write faster but I be struggling. this was a request sent in by @stupendousnightmaretrash so here's a formal apology for taking so long. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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Growing up it had always just been you and your dad, and you were perfectly fine with that arrangement. There would be a small number of people that would come in and out of your life, but your dad stuck around no matter what and he was all you needed.
Then he got called back to Top Gun.
After completing the mission he was called back for, Jake and his squad were offered a permanent position at Top Gun so they could all remain together which brought a new array of people into your life. You knew Javy of course; he and your dad had formed a close friendship early on so having him back in your life was a welcome surprise. Then there was the likes of Bradley, Bob, Ruben, and Natasha who became your honorary uncles and aunt. Then there was Mickey who somehow became like a second father to you. He was the youngest of the Daggers and so everyone had assumed he’d take more of an older brother role towards you, but he showed his complex maturity when he helped you solve a problem you were having, and you often found yourself going to him with problems you weren’t ready to talk to your own dad about yet to get advice from him.
A couple of years down the line, your dad and the Daggers were still based in Miramar and life was just as good as it was when the team first became an official squadron. You had recently turned sixteen and gotten a job working at a little restaurant along the beachfront for a little extra cash. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but it was something.
One evening, after a long day of work at Top Gun, the Daggers decided that they’d visit the restaurant you worked at to grab some dinner and to also surprise you while you were working.
The squadron turned up and waited excitedly to be seated and Jake couldn’t help but smile when he saw your eyes light up upon seeing the team gathered. You found them a table and handed out menus to everyone. The smile never leaves your face as you talk to them, getting their drinks orders before heading off to go and get their drinks. When you returned with their drinks you took their food orders and took them to the kitchen before returning to your section and seating two middle-aged men at a table near the Daggers. At first, they were polite, thanking you as they initially sat down and gave you their drinks orders with kind smiles but as the evening progressed their behaviour shifted. When you brought them their meals after the Daggers were just about halfway through their own dinners, the two men started looking you up and down, making uncomfortable flirty comments and one of the men even tried to run his hand along yours as you placed his food down in front of him. None of the men’s comments or actions went unnoticed by Mickey, who nudged Jake and pointed out how uncomfortable you clearly looked while serving the two men. When you moved away from the table to grab more drinks for the two men, Mickey and Jake exchanged a look and pushed their chairs away from the table, rising in sync and crossing to the two men.
“Can we help you?” One of the men asks, raising an eyebrow as they stare up at the two aviators who fold their arms across their chest in tandem, glaring down at the two men.
“You can stop bothering my daughter, that’s how you can help me.” Jake says, jaw set as his gaze grows colder by the second. The two men share a brief glance before letting out small chuckles.
“With all due respect. Your daughter is very beautiful.” One of the men has the gall to say, making Jake almost shift to land a punch on that man’s cocky smile, but Mickey was quicker, grabbing Jake’s shoulder and pulling him back a couple of paces to reduce the fight risk.
“She’s also sixteen years old. She’s just a kid!” Mickey has to hold himself back from screaming it in the man’s face as his friend shrugs.
“Well, she looks older.”
“And you still think that makes it okay?” Mickey says as Jake shrugs Mickey’s hand off his shoulder and approaches the two men, bracing his hands on the table, and leaning down so he’s in their faces.
“You two have about five minutes to pay your bill, give my kid a good tip and get your sorry asses out of here.” Jake’s voice was low and threatening, but the two men chuckled once again.
“What exactly are you going to do if we don’t do that?” The man asks, smirking cockily as he leant back in his seat, arms folding over his chest.
“I’ve got an entire team of naval aviators behind me, and they will not hesitate to get involved on my kid’s behalf.” Jake is seconds away from throwing a punch when the men laugh in his face.
“I have your- what’s going on?” Your return should’ve been expected yet in the moment all four men had forgotten you had gone off to get drinks.
“Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.” Jake says, straightening up and flashing a smile in your direction as Mickey drops his defensive stance to make everything seem more natural.
“Exactly, sweetheart. Are those our drinks?” One of the men says, condescension in his tone as he looks you up and down, frowning when you begin to look uncomfortable at his words.
“Oh come on, you can’t serve us with a smile?” He then says, and Mickey immediately walks over to you and takes the drinks off the tray.
“Mickey, what are you doing?” You ask in a hushed whisper as Mickey winks quickly, refusing to answer before turning around and slapping the biggest grin on his face and approaching the table.
“Here’s your drinks.” Mickey says, placing both drinks down making sure he spilt a bit over each man as he put them down.
“What are you doing?” One man says, standing up and attempting to brush the drink off his trousers.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to be served with a smile. I must’ve gotten a bit carried away.” Mickey says, the grin never leaving his face as both men grab napkins to wipe at their clothes while Jake crosses to you.
“Why don’t you grab the bill for these two? I have a feeling they’ll be leaving soon.” Jake whispers, watching as you nod lightly and head back to get the bill for the two men. Jake and Mickey return to the table with the Daggers, telling them that the situation appears to be defused and that since they had finished up all their meals, they’d get the bill and pay after the two men left. Jake kept glancing over at the two men as you brought over their bill and thankfully their mouths remained shut and they paid for their food and drinks silently before finishing their drinks and leaving the restaurant. When they left, you went over to the Daggers table and got them their bill and took the payments. You said goodbye to each Dagger in turn as they left but Jake and Mickey stopped in front of you.
“We’re going to wait outside for you, I know you don’t have much longer of your shift, and we want to make sure those assholes don’t come back.” Jake says, both he and Mickey smiling softly at you as you nod, thanking them before rushing off to finish off the rest of your shift.
Mickey and Jake sit outside the restaurant on a bench just by the beachfront and watch people taking evening strolls along the beach and listen to the sounds of seagulls calling and waves crashing against the sand. The two men found themselves talking about how work was going for them to pass the time until they heard you calling out for them, and they both turned and looked over their shoulders, a smile coming to their faces as they got to their feet and crossed to meet you halfway. Jake reached you first and trapped you in a strong but gentle hug.
“Was the rest of your shift, okay?” Was the first thing he asked as he hugged you, feeling you nod against his chest.
“Yeah.” You say as you pull away from the hug, moving to hug Mickey who embraces you happily.
“No one else bothered you?” Mickey checks in as he releases you from the hug.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Thank you, by the way. Those guys really gave me the creeps.” You admit, briefly casting your gaze to the floor before looking back up at the two men.
“No need to thank us, sweetheart. We’ll always look out for you.” Jake says with a soft smile.
“Honestly, if you two weren’t in the Navy I would’ve asked my manager to hire you guys. We could do with some people to help us handle the creepy guys. And I think Mickey would be an excellent waiter, he’s got the customer service smile down.” You say with a slight laugh, making both your dad and Mickey let out laughs of their own as they imagine Mickey being a waiter.
“Come on you, let’s get home.” Jake then says, the laughter dying down as Mickey slings an arm over your shoulders and tugs you into his side as the three of you begin to walk away from the restaurant, chatting and laughing the whole way as you enjoy each other’s company. The events of the evening are now behind you as you cherish getting to spend time with two of your favourite people. And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
420 notes · View notes
websterss · 2 months
Text
SEE YOU AT THE MEADOW — GUILDFORD DUDLEY
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REQUEST: yeah julie I’m gonna need you to continue writing fics for Guilford cause i’m pretty sure you’re the only one atm. so just a small request (reader is an ethian maid for the dudley’s so her and guilford just grow a bond over the years. she could be a cat and sometimes she’ll shift to lay in his lap to get pats or she’ll walk with him in the morning when he’s a horse to keep him company for a bit. just some good friends to lovers type vibe) I LOVE YOU JULIEEEEEE💗💗💗💗💗💗💗@raggedyoldwitch
WARNING(S): fluff
WORD COUNT: 2,002
PAIRING: Guildford Dudley x Ethian!Reader
A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!
MASTERLIST
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You were only a child when Lord Dudley’s second son made his first transformation. The news was short-lived when you and your mother were made aware of Lady Dudley’s death. You hadn’t received much news on the matter but whispers amongst the kitchen maids settled on Guildford being at the cause of it. You were just as grave as he was, especially when all the whole servants were dismissed besides Bertie.
Your mother begged to stay but Lord Dudley was persistent on having you leave them. it wasn’t until you transformed yourself into a cat that he was swayed.
He even thought that if you had so easily controlled when you could shift between forms then perhaps you’d be able to help his son accomplish the same.
You didn’t though…
It was only the beginning of your friendship. A little girl trying to help a boy, who thought he was cursed. His only contrast to his curse was that he fully believed for you to be given a gift. That got him a pebble thrown at his head.
”You cannot hit me. I’m of importance!” Little Guildford protested, rubbing at the spot he was sure to receive a nasty bump.
“Really. I did not know.” You proceed to throw him another rock.
“Stop that!”
“You are not even trying!” You sighed. "It's easy. Look!" You bent at the waist as your body morphed. Your human form no more as a brown and black tabby cat. Your fur is a mixture of colors, brown and black as though someone ran out of paint and used what was left on your animal form. You meowed at him once and sat down as him saying 'see'. A second had only passed when you shifted back.
“I am trying. Am I not!?” He scowled.
He began throwing rocks back at you. Some of them land pretty much in your exact area, others missing you by a long shot. But after a while, he became distracted by a passing squirrel. A pebble hit him straight on causing him to topple over onto the grass. Your eyes widened as you rushed over to him.
”Oh dear…quick what is your name?”
“You fool!”
“Okay, what is my name?”
He shoved you away. The shove causes you to fall on your bottom.
”You little bastard!" You exclaimed, before shoving him back twice as hard. He stumbled and fell back into a rose bush.
You two tumbled around before you were pinned by him. His breathing stilling as he watched your own eyes widen.
Your eyes widened in fright at the position you’d landed yourselves in. It felt like both of you were holding your breath as you watched each other’s expression. He’d never been this close to you before, and he found himself studying the way your eyes seemed to glitter in the moonlight.
“Y/n, Guildford, supper is prepared!”
Both your eyes widened at the soft voice of your mother, but by the time you’d both looked around she was nowhere in sight. Guildford looked back down at you, his expression a mixture of nervousness and confusion as he tried to figure out what to do next. His father was expecting him for dinner but he didn’t want to leave you alone here in the forest. He opened his mouth to speak. But for some reason, he just couldn’t find the words.
“I’m…I’m never gonna get this.” He relented, sitting back to allow you up.
You sat up too, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You then looked as he sat down next to you, a look of helplessness on his face.
”…don’t worry.” You told him, noticing how dejected he looked. “We can try again the next day. Night will come again.”
He shook his head. “You repeat it over and over. It’s not working. It hasn’t worked and it will not! It’s an unavailing attempt. It’s no use in getting our hopes up!”
You reached out and lightly hit his arm. “Hey, what sort of defeatist attitude is that? There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, right?” He didn’t answer for a moment before he turned his head away from you. You didn’t notice the blush on his face.
You sigh. You watched him silently for a moment, not wanting to speak and say something that would upset him further. After a moment though you spoke up anyway.
”…you should head inside.” You said quietly. “Your father will have your head if you’re not there soon enough.”
“Let me see you in at least. Your mother will have my head if you’re not there, soon enough.” He offered his arm and you grasped it.
You linked your arm with his and together he slowly began walking you back to your cottage. He tried to ignore the way your hair swayed with each step you took or the way your scent that of the poppies and lilacs in his mother’s garden you worked hard to revive again. But it was a hard task for a young growing boy who’d only just begun to notice these things.
When you reached the entrance, you both halted in your tracks at the sound of a raised voice coming from inside.
“My heavens, look at the lot of you. Filthy!” Your mother scorns you as she reaches forward to pull a leaf out of your hair. “Go…I’ve run you a warm bath already. Then dressed and down for supper.” You let go of Guildford bidding him a bye with a small grin. Then ran up the stairs.
“Guildford…” She eyed then sucked her teeth grabbing hold of his face. “Oh, that girl. Look at you! It will bruise!”
“If it lessens your worries, I got her back!”
”She's supposed to be helping you, not damaging your face.” She shakes her head.
His cheeks burned a deep red in embarrassment as she continued to fret at him. “I’ll be fine…it’s just a bump and a mark.” He mumbled.
She took her hands away, still in a disapproving mood as she crossed her arms. Before a smile cracked at her expression. ”You like her, don’t you?” He looked at her, his expression wide as she began to tease him. ”That’s how it starts. Yes! First, it’s just a bump and a mark, then it’s a broken bone, then you’ll be bedridden!” She then scolded.
"Well then Y/n will join my demise…" He shrunk in on himself.
Your mother laughed at his remark. “I believe she could just be my lord. That girl could be a little nightmare if she tried.” She then ruffled his hair before guiding him towards the stairs. "Go, clean yourself up before the food grows cold."
"I'm not a lord." He called over his shoulder.
"You will be." She chimed shaking her head as she watched him ascend to the second floor.
-
"And when that April with his showers soote-" Guildford had stopped reciting the poem from the book in his hands. His smirk grew as your animal form perched itself on his lap. He reached forward to scratch behind your right ear. "Shall I continue or are you simply here to be a distraction?"
The feline version of you closed its eyes at the sensation of his fingers scratching at the sweet spot behind its ear. You released a little noise that sounded a lot like a purr making it clear that you were enjoying the attention. You then used your front paw to paw at the pages of the book, as if telling him to go on.
"Very well then..." He emits a low chuckle.
Your little furry self settled down in his lap and listened to the dulcet tones of his voice as he continued with the lines.
His reading was like music to your ears. He made the words soar off the page and flutter around the room. You hadn't seen Guildford this calm in ages, not since the death of his mother.
The two of you remain in the library for hours, him continuing to read aloud to the little animal on his lap. But it's not till you release a sneeze that has him stopping, has him anticipating what would come next. He sighs moving the book onto the side table as he sits back. He holds his breath as he sees ripples of black and orange begin to transform your cat-like self. It's not long till you release another sneeze in your human form.
"Bless…" Guildford clears his throat. He keeps his hands and arms on the armsrest.
You get your bearings. Your hair is messy from when you slept on your side in cat form. And of course, you're only in a night dress. You look at Guildford, and he looks back at you.
He attempts to avoid looking at your nightie, but he's only a man, after all.
You palm down your hair, in hopes it doesn't appear untamed.
He watches you do this, his eyes darting over your face and down your body. He knows he should look away, but he can't. Not when you looked like this. It was just like in the forest all those years ago as children, the feeling of nerves and the rapid heartbeat.
"Sleep well?" He reached up caressing some of your locks behind your ear.
You nod your head as if his soft touch has you forgetting how to speak.
He can see the blush on your cheeks and he knows he's the reason why it's there. "You're adorable." He says, almost as if on autopilot.
You roll your eyes as you climb off his lap. "Fool..."
He watches you cross the room before stopping you at the door. Your hand holding onto the handle.
He lets out a sigh, his leg beginning to bounce. “You do know it is very uncouth for you to be wearing that in my presence.”
"It's my nightwear, Guildford. What do you expect me to wear?" You respond, half turning your head to look at him. "Besides, it's not the most inappropriate attire you've worn around me."
His face turns a few shades darker red as his mind drifts to that exact memory. The image of you in his thin white undershirt, with nothing else on…it hadn't been that many years when he convinced you to go with him to a lake. You had shifted into your cat form by accident leaving you rendered embarrassed and well without clothes. He doesn’t want to be having that sort of thought right now. Not when you were standing a little less than an arms-length away from him, in your very night clothes.
"Thought so…" You muse with a chuckle. "Good night Guildford." You bid him goodbye opening the door to make your way out.
He almost lets you walk out. But his mind has other plans. Before he could think better of it he bolts up and pauses at the door. You're only a few feet from the door before his voice catches your attention.
"Where are you going?" He softly chuckles.
"To bed. Some of us sleep before dawn Guildford."
"Care for a stroll through the meadow again…keep me company?" He looked down before he met your bemused gaze again.
"I'll ask Bertie to pack us fresh carrots."
He quirks an eyebrow at your words, but he can see how you consider it. After a moment, you let out a sigh. "I would never miss it." You bid him with that adorable contagious grin and go to your quarters for the evening. "Night, my lord." You were heavy with the emphasis of his title. Guildford let his weight fall against the threshold, knowing he had the morrow to look forward to. 
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moonbeammist · 20 days
Text
The Peasant's Secret (Part 2)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. taglist from Part 1: @aoi-targaryen
I don't give permission for any of my fanfiction to be posted, this is also cross posted on my account w/ Archive of our own :)
PAIRINGS: Feyd Rautha x Fem!Fighter!Reader
AUTHORS NOTE: Hey! l'm excited that I continued this. Honestly, couldn't get it out of my head until I did. I really hope you enjoy it, feedback is most welcome. New readers, read Part 1 for context and character, if not, this can be read as a solo fic too 💖
WARNINGS: (Adults only 18+) DARK! profanity, extreme violence, torture, gore, sadism, masochism, dubious consent, erotic undertones, heavy petting, reader is a fighter who get's extremly hurt, bigotry against the poor, very immersive, intimacy, touching, feyd-rautha is his sick self, public humiliation, light smut
Feyd is at his most sadistic - please mind the warnings. I really wanted to explore that in writing because I feel it's such a big part of his character. Honestly Dune Part Two inspired the hell out of me, and looks like I'm not the only one judging by some of the brilliant writers on this site. Thank you for inspiring me too.. I poured everything into this.
SUMMARY: “You did, Harkonnen.” You agree solemnly. “But what does it matter? Don’t you treat every untrained, unprecedented fighter the same here?” you pause, seeing his deep blue eyes flicker with interest. “Unskilled fodder to fuel your own ego?”
WORD COUNT: 10.3k words (yes it's long, but enjoy the ride, take breaks, ect.) ❤️
PART 1 PART 2
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It’s scalding, the black ebb of the sun in Giedi Prime. But you are well hydrated and fed.
Previously, when you were aboard the ship with Count Fenring in the depths of space, he made sure you and the small group of rice labourers that stayed behind were treated. Various platters of eclectic fruits, aged cheeses, proteins, and beverages were presented before you on a wooden table, the Count encouraging the hesitant Caladan rice cultivators with a wave of his hand. Almost in unison, they dived for the food at his proclamation, knives and forks clashing. You couldn’t tell what animal you were gnawing on as you slobbered it down, only fixated on filling the hole of anxiety that grew, every so slowly, deep in your belly. You volunteered to be here on the basis of... being Harkonnen entertainment, mixed with a blind, selfish jump into the illogical.
And for what?
So you don’t deserve to feel this uncertainty. You did it to your damn self. Wanting to prove... something, anything. What that was exactly you couldn’t pinpoint, except a growing need to see yourself capable of a different path than the comfortable life you grew to know. Your mother’s words came to you again, flying through the vastness of the galaxy.
“You should go.” A pause. “Live for us.”
Her words spread through you like a viper, a sliver of hope returning to you.
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You’re covered by the dark canopy of the nestled burrow underneath the stands of the large dome-like arena, filled to the brim with Harkonnen porcelain heads. You can see a partial view from here—a small peek, but enough for multiple stark heads to pop through. The hard, black metal doors were closed all the way, save for that small crack. Their starving, needy chants are ear splitting to you; you can hear them all around you in these walls beside your fellow fighters. Here you are, like a feast for them—ripe, hot-blooded, and ready for the taking. 
You keep your hair cropped short just under your cheekbones for battle, falling messily over your face in a choppy cut. The length made sense under these circumstances.
Last night, after filling yourself with food and beverage and thanking the Count on the ship, you pushed your way past the other passengers to the ship’s restrooms with slight impatience, a mulled over idea that has been eating at you finally coming to the forefront. Seeing your hollow, adrenalized eyes in the mirror, your hand reached to your thigh, brandishing the emerald handle of the small blade you were given as a courtesy. Unlatching it from its leather harness with a click, your arm juts out to swipe your tresses away, the ends falling like a blanket on the floor. You did not need to make yourself a target on the hairless planet, that is for certain. Not like this, not so obviously. 
They can already see what you are, you know.
Your conscious crows at you, and your teeth come out to play with your bottom lip, chewing it. That’s not why. When you were shoving food down at the table with your fellow people during mealtime, you received a more in-depth, private discussion about Giedi Prime and House Harkonnen’s culture and traditions, along with a long spiel on the opponent you and your fellow peasant fighters would be privy to facing. 
The Count’s voice was almost a warning to all, and you could’ve sworn his eyes rested on you too many times for it to be a coincidence. Obviously, being the opposite sex in the Harkonnen arena is going to come with a target on your back. In Giedi Prime, usually, they had a target on your back no matter what, but they usually fell into four prime categories: pleasure slave, handmaiden, visiting Bene Gesserit, or noblewomen. And obviously, they’re going to make out by your form, that you’re not a big, burly slave-gladiator. But some type of amateur, dodging, slave-gladiator nonetheless.
The issue is that you don’t want the nephew, that psychopathic nephew of the Baron—Feyd-fucking-rautha grabbing a long mop of hair and whipping it around the arena like a toy, a rag doll. And you don’t want something as silly as hair being used as fodder against you, like a joke. You had gathered the length of hair in the disposable bin, cleaning up the mess on the marbled floor in finality.
You glance up to catch yourself in the mirror, and your pulse quickens. You run your fingers through your short locks, the pieces framing your face. You feel renewed, refreshed.
You feel more like yourself than ever before.
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The guttural melody seemed to increase in speed across the walls underneath the arena, bouncing off the ground. You could feel the voices, deep in the earth, the soles of your feet vibrating against your boot. You peered into the backs of the heads of your crew. You knew that your time was getting closer. Uneasiness, but also a slight giddiness that shouldn’t belong, bubbled up within you. 
Why?
The small group of men that you came with from Caladan were also branding themselves as inexperienced rice labourers. As men, it was common for them to get in spats or tussles about gods-knows-what. They had experience in that sense. For the fairer sex, all you had was your mother’s encouragement to take an interest in the art of dodging, the defensive battle strategy known as "The Peasant’s Secret." There weren't many ladies, as far as you could tell, who were following suit. They had more important things to register, like feeding their children, you mused. The peasant men were taught it too, as they weren’t permitted weapons, armour, and the like. But it didn’t seem like they held it in high regard as often as you did. They practiced being on the offensive with their knuckles for light fun, with a masculated zeal. You questioned why they were here, as it would seem they dared not want anything else than an honest day’s work, being able to daze upon the fields with a wife warming their bed. But you wondered if the few that came grew bored of their mundane life and little free time, and were willing to put themselves on the line of fire today like you. 
Stupid, silly peasants you all were. Couldn’t just be happy with what was given to you. Couldn’t just lay your head down on rice grain forever. 
Just wanted a small hit of dopamine to the psyche, it would seem.
Without notice, a speaker made himself known above you—and it must have been from the very top, the very perch of the arena. The Baron of House Harkonnen’s rough voice pummelling into the pits below. “Citizens of Giedi Prime, and most welcome visitors,” he began. “We have quite the show for you today, most definitely... Count Hasimir Fenring has brought with him mere-" he pauses to chuckle as it reverberates through your mind, and you make a note of his happiness. It already confirmed what you knew to be true.
He continues. “Rice harvesters from Caladan who would like to join in on today’s festivities. Mind you, they volunteered their time here as well, so we shall see what they have to offer.”
A more ominous-sounding laugh is heard.
“How exciting, dear nephew, for you to enjoy this treat. Some low-born entertainment as a warm-up. We shall commence shortly.”
The audience chanted their sick appreciation at this news, their cheers echoing across the skies.
You gulped your saliva down. A warm-up, yes, of course. That makes sense.
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It’s here. You’re here. Pacing, jumping up and down, in your murky, brown cloth. Amping yourself up.
Tight, tattered dark brown shorts adorned your knees, with strings tying the garment in place at your hips. To counter that, a long, light brown quarter-sleeve tunic swamps your form, belted at the waist with a large buckle securing it. Under the belt, the bottom of it is cut into two sections, split right down the middle, revealing your shorts in a fashion with athleticism and movement in mind. It’s lightweight and loose, allowing your bindings and skin to breathe in the hot weather.
In just a moment, the doors to the arena pits would open, and you would face the deviant that awaits. But you would not be alone. At least in the beginning. 
You turn to glance beside you at the men accompanying you. The men stood beside, in front, and behind you, their large frames slightly swarming you. You briefly imagined them emerging into the arena like some low-born three-course meal for the Na-Baron. You wordlessly prayed that you would not be considered a part of the appetizer.
“Come,” a man you knew by the name of Rexen, threw his arms around your shoulders and jostled you out of your ponderings. His hair was a deep black, matching his unkempt brows and scraggly beard. His face was warm and friendly, and his stare was earnest. “Join us for a moment.”
You walk with him a mere two steps before he gently pushes your body forward, and your eyes take in the slight change of everyone’s chest now visible to you. Your home planet’s men’s faces rapt with attention on each other. They are now huddled in the formation of a small circle. Rexen leans forward, and you follow suit, huddling even closer into the group, shoulders touching.
A glow of comfort envelops you, a piece of home.
“We are not a skilled people,” Rexen graciously offers, his head dipping low as he mutters this. His eyebrows raise as he anchors his head against yours and the men surrounding. “Most of our people did not want to be here. But for those that remain, we need not concern ourselves with why we are here. Just that we’re here to put on a show, for the holier than thou fucks.” He grins at his quip, his teeth slightly yellow in colour, stained from poor hygiene. Laughter emits from his chest, and the men barrel with much-too-energetic laughter for the situation.
You feel bizarre. You definitely came with the... what would you call those with no regard for their own self-preservation? 
Lunatics? 
But chillingly, you find yourself chuckling along with them, joining them in their message. Joining their showmanship. You’re here after all. That makes you one of them. You grin ear-to-ear as you laugh along with the men.
Something breaks you out of your glorified stupor. You hear a muffled chant just outside the doors. A pause. They were speaking in syllables. 
“Feyd-Rauth-Ah!” Again. “Feyd-Rauth-Ah!” And again. “Feyd-Rauth-Ah!”
Before any of you have a chance to compose yourself, the doors behind you slowly split open, and you eye the entrance to the arena with a spike of endorphins settling like butterflies in your stomach.
It unfolds, unlatches, and stretches out.
Until you’re cast in a perfect halo of light, the bleak colour seemingly burns your eyes for a moment.
There. It’s adjusting.
Your eyes adjust to the toxic atmosphere once again. You now have a more personalized viewpoint of what is to come; your perspective now shows a closer point of view of the arena as you break away from your fellow fighters and shakily take one step forward to the substantial crowd. The energy in the crowd shifted considerably to a higher plane, and you can literally feel the noise cover you in a blanket of sound, and you’re vibrating. You don’t turn to pay attention to your peers as they slowly spill out of the doorway.
The guttural native tongue of the Harkonnen boomed through the air, the announcer’s voice telling a story with his words. It all became white noise next to your thrumming heart.
At the opposite end of the arena, it’s... him.
His bleached, ghostly white silhouette sauntered several yards away with a slow swagger. The distance dwarfs his form slightly. Black on black. Everything he’s wearing is black, jutting out from his body to clearly signify a plate of armour atop his chest, ribs, shoulders, and legs. A combat suit absolutely made for battle.
The good news was that his skull and neck, seemingly attached by his bulging shoulder plates, was exposed. The sight of his hands clutching two considerably large Crysknives on either side of him made you pause. His wrists jumbled up and down, playing with blades.
Moving in an angular motion, you make a beeline for a darker area along the arena wall. You now notice your companions are already scattered all over the arena, the restlessness in their scurried steps now known to the sole Harkonnen. You’re sure he can smell them from where he is, and you want to perhaps blend in with the wall for a bit while you plan your next move.
He hasn’t noticed you yet as he charges forward, the speed in his steps like lightning.
You quicken your pace to the side of him, against the wall, out of sight as he spots a single peasant man squaring up to challenge him.
Your gaze is transfixed on them as you continue to walk backwards to the wall.
Feyd-Rautha is closer now, towards the centre of the Arena. The way he moves is like a freight train, all at once, and not a single part of him is apologetic for it. Your friend, your... companion, who had his head pressed to you moments earlier, had you clenching your teeth in anticipation at his first swivel around Feyd-Rautha’s Crysknife. The man ducked, barely grazing Feyd-Rautha’s blade as it sliced through the air. You hear a deep, grovelling chuckle, the sound making you freeze. It’s alien.. It’s so, so deep.
He doesn’t even sound real.
You glance at him while side-stepping, grateful his attentions are on the burly man’s arms flying at him like a circular typhoon. The man was already so tired; he was slowing down.
Feyd-Rautha exhales, curving the Crysknife in an upward motion, pushing it to the hilt, the squish of the male being impaled hauntingly audible. “That’s the spot.”
Like a caricature of doom, the voice of the man had a guttural, raspy quality to it. So low but with an unusual lilt at the end of his words.
Feyd-Rautha grabs the man by his shoulders and flings his heaving body to the ground, removing his painted red Crysknife from the man’s gut.
He barrels onward, heading further away from you, his eyes lit aflame.
You cannot deny that you’re in shock at the raw energy, but you take several breaths to calm yourself down, reminding yourself you just haven't ever been in an arena before. This is how it goes. Randomly, your back collides with something warm as you're breathing in and out. 
Jostled, your breath hitches as you whip around at the feeling. 
A clicking sound speeds up at your collision, erupting from a black, horned... genetically modified something.
God knows what that is, but you knew by its circling movements it was there to service the arena as its handler, keeping a watchful eye. There seemed to be another one roaming where Feyd-Rautha was, to your far left.
You raise your hands up, hearing the clicking intensify in warning. “Apologies.” You nervously laugh, wondering if it even cared for your apologies at a time like this.
You hear yet another man falling to the ground behind you, your gaze darting to the sight of him rolling, trying to swerve the absolute onslaught of the animal standing above him.
All your planning and all your battle-tactic calculations were lost in the wind, it seemed. It didn’t matter anymore because you were so fucking nervous.
No, it’s okay.
A small voice inside you encouraged.
You need to utilize “The Peasant’s Secret” in front of this crowd of evil eggheads, even if it’s not perfect.
You feel cracked mentally to even be joking to yourself at a time like this, but the fleeting sentiment is all you need to feel better. It was time to give yourself some grace.
You glanced at the horned handler once more as it retreated, before facing the savagery you knew you needed to keep your eyes locked on... Rexen, the man who pulled you aside earlier, was moaning in agony, his eyes bloodshot. You felt a fluttering sensation in your stomach. Alone and gushing, flowing, a stream of blood spilled out from his sopping open wound into the arena pit.
You remember his joyous remark that he was going to put on a show as you watched the life drain from his face.
You feel a prickling sensation at the back of your neck, like something in the air has shifted.
A BANG snaps you out of your reverie.
Isolating the noise, you lock in on it. There, now dangerously close, a looming presence carefully studying you. Feyd-Rautha’s hard, deep stare. He was standing a few feet away from you on the right side of the arena wall, his leg kicking at the wall animatedly. 
BANG
He hit it again, and as he finished, his armour-clad legs seemed to click together. His pale face was plastered with a delighted expression that met the depths of depravity. As your gaze flickered over him, you noticed an open mouth, a row of black teeth, the shade of the darkest midnight, smiling in glee, seeming to be proud of his announcement.
“Just a few more of the rodents,” he sneered, his eyes gleaming with giddiness.
You hold your breath in fear, stopping all at once. You know making a move right now would be foolish at his proximity.
“Did you perceive yourself to be out of harm's way?” His rasp quipped. 
You consider him, swallowing a jump in your belly. Unnerved by his misplaced enthusiasm. 
You brace yourself, standing at attention, before lowering yourself into a bent stance. The choppy pieces of your short hair fall into your line of vision as your head dips to the ground, trying not to let his overbearing nature shake you.
He doesn’t seem to move from his place as his gaze flickers over your movements.
Those black teeth. You were strangely fascinated by the ghoulish sight of them.
You’ve heard rumours of it being akin to a status symbol, perhaps even a fashion statement in Harkonnen culture. A custom of extreme wealth, beauty, and high influence.
Aristocratic customs are among this absolute cruel and humiliating gore fest. The irony of that was enough to make you thankful for being low-born and poor, minding your business. For all that you represent, at least you weren’t delusional in your value.
“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” You greet, nodding solemnly, bowing your head from your battle-ready stance. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Perhaps paying your respects to him before the battle would lessen his aggressiveness, if only a little. If you didn’t mindlessly yell and charge at him without thought, like the others.
He cocks his ghostly bald head, black mouth agape, seemingly taking you in. You briefly wondered if he was flashing that blackened mouth at you like some sort of superiority complex.
“How curious,” he murmurs. “The peasant wishes to exchange kind words before I run them through my blade?” His eyes glitter with something primal.
His sick jab makes you scoff inwardly, but you ignore it.
“On the contrary,” you begin. “I’m merely doing the honourable thing. Are we not battlemates, despite where I come from?” I pause, letting the words settle. “Like those of higher status you have fought before?”
I taste the words on my tongue, knowing full well the act may be futile.
Feyd-Rautha’s black teeth open wide with jest. “Mmm, that is what it would seem...” He nods at you. “The honour suits you.” 
You pause, realizing that he was paying a compliment.
His eyes darken like decay at once. “But you are a plaything, peasant. A pathetic thing for me to slice open and drain.” He tuts and slowly strolls towards you. 
You can’t help the shock that appears in your face at his grotesque words.
“But don’t worry, maybe I'll go a little longer with you.” He emphasizes the last word, a dark promise. His voice was laced with subtle mockery.
He’s put some sort of magnetic spell on you as you stand there, dumbfounded. His face no longer looks friendly as he advances on you, a demonic expression gracing his features. 
Fuck.
You jump back, reeling. You’re already failing, and you’ve got to get away, away, away fast. 
You shake your head at yourself for letting more than a few moments of speaking pass between you two. That was indeed useless. If anything, it seemed to make him crazier.
He charges at you with ferocity and a face devoid of emotion. 
This time I will move.
You let your secret instinct envelop you naturally, closing your eyes.
Dodge. Bob. Weave.
Just in time, and he’s snarling. “Rah!”
His black teeth lurch towards you.
You suddenly swirl your body slightly to evade the attack, his Crysknife missing you by mere inches. You jump backwards, not by a lot.
“Run first.. If they are fast enough, begin your dance.”
Your mother's words about the steps of your teachings sneak into your senses. That’s going to come off cowardly to someone like him. Weak. You don’t care. He didn’t know the hidden ways of the ‘lesser’ people of Planet Caladen.
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You bolt, legs pumping with renewed investment in your life. The sand seems to give your boots just the right amount of grip to propel you. You don’t bear to look behind you, afraid of what you may see, but know he’s at least giving chase.
You zip by yet another man, his neck whipping to watch you run. He feels like another stranger among the men who died, like he’s already sealed his fate.
But you presumed. You did not give the man grace. Like you now give yourself.
The man is living now, unchained. In his most honest form.
You crank your head back momentarily as your feet are hitting the sand. You instantly regret it, your breath catching in your throat. Feyd-Rautha is hot on your heels; his snow-white face is terrifying. His nostrils are flared, and his deep blue irises are lit with enthusiastic vigour. Your eyes widened as his blackened mouth was clenched in malice.
There is still a sizeable gap between the two of you. In a sudden move, you see the flash of the man before, in a blur—he’s purposely throwing his body towards Feyd-Rautha—and Feyd is so intently fixated on you he can’t stop the audible grunt that escapes him when your fellow peasant barrels into him with the strength of a bull.
The movement is so out of place that you falter slightly, side-stepping mid-run, your eyes glued to the man who decided to make use of his body as an obstacle. They hit the ground with a hard slam, the sound cracking through the thick atmosphere of the planet.
What is seen before you resembles a dogpile—the man’s large body attempting to restrain Feyd-Rautha’s snarling form, the man’s back gyrating like a hunter holding down a rabid howling elk.
You softly gasp at the mere seconds that went by before Feyd’s blade ground upward deep into the man’s guts—you could hear the sound of insides sloshing, emitting a horrifying, piercing scream from the man. The lack of care was evident as the man was thrown to the side like common trash.
Feyd-Rautha sits up, crimson staining his face like a splatter of paint, his face contorting, mood soured.
You silently thank the man for his sacrifice. It dawned on you that he didn’t do that for himself, but for you. A way to slow down your enemy’s predatory chase. 
Thank you. Your deed today will not go unnoticed, my good man. I shall make a shrine in your honour when I’m through with this animal.
Your eyebrows draw together, and trepidation rings through you as you put a bandage on your reality, cushioning your frantic thoughts with comfort.
You make quick work to paddle your legs from side to side, transfixed on the Na-Baron’s body, using the horrific situation as leverage. You started to do slow, measured side-skips around the man, smart to not use all of your well-preserved energy right away. You couldn’t risk disabling yourself to be slow, but you could be at a good, neutral pace right now.
While he was down. Which wouldn’t be for long.
Feyd-Rautha exhaled hastily as his neck craned towards you. Something akin to a cool, unfazed demeanour washed over his previous frantic behaviour as he allowed himself to engage in a moment's respite. 
“Let’s see you now, you pompous little rodent. Your street-gutter ally was desperate to save you... Caladens, hm?”
The message was clear now.
You bit your tongue, not lowering yourself enough to respond brashly to his mean-spirited words. Oh, the man was loathsome. But you will engage him. It will allow you to learn more about him.
You already know enough. He’s a deviant, a sadist. What else do you need?
You need to concentrate. You won’t respond brashly, but you will plant seeds of doubt in his mind, if you can.
“Caladen has brought me many things, Harkonnen.” You begin, slightly slowing your skips around the arena as you speak. “It is a vessel of life that your planet seems to be drained of, quite frankly.”
His pupils expand at that.
“Harkonnen?” He stands then, rolling his neck, and you hear a pop as he adjusts his broad torso, his blackened mouth suddenly upturned in amusement as he studies you. “What happened to Na-Baron? Is it not to your taste anymore? Is it because I hurt your heart?” 
He motions towards the crowd of bodies littering the ground. “Did I hurt your gutter tribe?” His rough voice taunts like a menace, as his eyes sparkle with a sort of dark mischief as he laughs at that.
You swallow, biting back enragement.
“You did, Harkonnen.” You agree solemnly. “But what does it matter? Don’t you treat every untrained, unprecedented fighter the same here?” You pause, seeing his deep blue eyes flicker with interest. “Unskilled fodder to fuel your own ego?”
The air was tense, and his calculating eyes seemed to consume you during the silence. He cuts it then, with a breathy, deep cackle.
“Oh, so she has a mouth,” he sneers. He shocks you by darting towards you, his black armoured frame like a thick smog, coming to ingest you. 
He inches closer and closer, and you make the decision to roll out of the way, your body tumbling to the side of him.
“Smart, for street filth. It will be quite a shame when you’re crying under me as I bloody you that you’ll be fodder for my ego.” He mocks chillingly, his cruel words eliciting a spike of nerves within you, but you’re too focused on evading him to let it show. You see him use his Crysknives in short, brutal swifts as you roll quickly.
His Crysknife whips down, but it stabs the ground, Feyd-Rautha not accounting for your multiple movements of barrel-rolling.
He barks a laugh at that, and you hate the sound of it. He pulls out the Crysknife with a rough grunt, and you stumble to your feet.
You’re fast, and you can see that his eyes are trained on you, and he’s smiling. Oh god, that mouth of blackened tar is smiling.
Running away from him again felt more freeing this time, like you were in control. You knew that you could actually keep up with his antics. You were prepared this time around; you two were alone now. Your fellow peasants' bodies are disrespectfully littered at your feet, and it makes you angry.
“Why is she running?” He called, his guttural voice reaching you as you reached the end of the arena. He was talking to you in a strange way, like you were somewhere else, not present in front of him, like a mere object.
You ignored him, and you briefly remember your small blade, strapped under your brown shorts, the strappy harness hidden. You needed to tire him out. That’s your first mission. Tire him out to the point of exhaustion.
Although hesitantly, you knew he was fit and athletic. A powerful, driven force. How exactly you were going to do this remains a sight to be seen.
He growls and chases you like a huntsman, around and around and around. Every time he managed to get in proximity with those two sharp, deadly blades—
Your body moved, just out of reach—like a python. 
You feel pride flow through you when, half-way through another lap around the arena, Feyd-Rautha stops, catching his breath. You’ve managed to get the Harkonnen to audibly pant, and what’s more, he’s crouched over, hands on his knees.
So you decide to waste even more of his energy.
As you begin to run backwards, facing him, you cup your hands around your mouth, sucking in air as you prepare to yell. You call to him, drawing his attention to you.
“Tired, Feyd?” You drop the second half of his name, and it feels more personal.
He huffed, springing up in an instant at the sound of his name spoken so comfortably from your lips.
You couldn't bear to look at his mocking, ghoulish face transfixed on you from several feet away. It sent a deep wave of uncertainty and thrill through your very being.
His ebony mouth gaped at you. “Such gall, from someone who’s been fleeing this entire time. Is that what you came here to do?” 
You swallow hard. Mind reeling.
“I came here to—” you began.
Feyd-Rautha cut you off, an outpouring of snideness laced in his voice. “It matters not. How long do you think this is going to last you, peasant?” 
Your confidence is slightly faltered, but you speak without thought. “It lasted me this long...” and your voice trailed off.
He chuckled darkly. From this proximity, you can see his eyes swirling with a foreign emotion you couldn’t place.
Yes. Your body moved like a python until it didn’t.
He lunged at you, jumping with a prowess that was so quick you barely managed to get out of the way. But you did, feeling his blade slice through your tunic, your abdomen. You let out a hiss, and you’re jumping backwards, regaining your momentum, away from him, and you’re flying mid-air.
But he somehow matches your stride, leaping forward. He snatches the fabric of your shorts, using that to grip you as you are smashed into the battlegrounds by your leg.
The wind is knocked out of you as you land on your stomach, and a sound emits from you that you’ve never heard. Adrenaline flowing through you, you attempt to get up but the heel of his boot digs into your back, pushing you back down, your form collapsing and you sputter, breathing hard - You hear his body drop into the pits behind you, the dust flying into the air in front of you.
Feyd-Rautha pins his entire chest on the small of your back. The weight of the man has your mouth tasting the bitter, dry pallet of the sand. Your face prickles as the sharp grains sting your eyes, crushing your nose and mouth; the pain is excruciating. 
Fuck, if he doesn't get off me, he's going to break my nose.
You let out a feral cry as you tried to move underneath him. His arms hold you deeply into his chest, the plates of his armour digging into the ebbs of your spine.
In defence, you attempt to curl your body into a turtle stance, protecting your front, which is where you are most covered in bruises from your fall. You can feel him all around you, his chest heaving up and down. His breaths are deep and disgruntled; sometimes they don't sound human.
His heavy arms start to slowly pry your arms open from cocooning yourself. He could do anything he wants at this moment if you don’t get him off.
It's no doubt he's much bigger than you, and although you were countering him in speed a while ago, his masculine strength keeps a steady hold on you. 
You start to shake as you flex every bit of muscle you have, your body vibrating in tremors as he continues to pry your arms away from your body. You continue to try holding onto the fabrics of your tunic, still convusling as you fight his hands, trying to pry away your self-made cocoon.
In patience and in your countering movements. You find your strength in your resilience. You remind yourself that you feel powerful in that, at least.
I still have my grit.
"Tough," He jeers, and you’re aware of his chin now digging into the little nook of your left shoulder; you don't even have to look back to know he's grinning from ear to ear. His thick armoured legs tighten around your smaller frame.
In one quick movement, he wrenches your struggling arms, your nails digging into the wartorn fabric that covers your body. You are still holding on, but barely.
Your voice comes out in a passionate screech, ripping from your throat when he shoves your arms behind you so that your elbows are touching, his pale fingers clasped around them.
His muscled, battle-born thighs tighten around your hips.
You thrash against him. "No! NO!" Your scream falls out of you in a high hilt. The pain is searing, like your arms are going to pop out of their sockets. You didn’t want to protest this loudly to him of all people, but he’s forced you to. You’re at his mercy if he manages to dislocate them.
"Yes," he grunts, and you don’t know if he’s responding to you or himself. "Who knew these little arms could hold such force?" The questioning lilt in his rasp went up several levels.
Since your elbows are in his grasp, he has your torso tilted towards the sky of the arena, the black sun baking into your tanned Caladian skin. 
You hear the deep chanting of the crowd, pulsing through you like a hymn. A smear of colourless shapes moving up and down. All you see is white spreading into your eyelids—your vision is pure, crystal white. Your head lulls back as it rolls back onto his wide shoulder.
And what he utters next is truly alien.
"Let me see those eyes, Caladian." Feyd-Rautha croaked. It was a gruff, choked sentence, like it slipped out of him by accident.
What?
A weird feeling settles in the pit of your stomach, flip-flopping at his words.
For fuck sakes, the sick fuck is getting turned on by this. Harkonnens..
A silent weight hangs in the air. And for a moment you both don't move.
A flood of emotions wells in you, like an electric charge.
Albeit in pain, you take advantage of the changed atmosphere.
Your knees are trapped, stuck together like a sweaty mass between his thighs. Your head that was stagnantly leaning on Feyd-Rautha's shoulder now aggressively dips down and slams up into his face, head-butting him and taking him slightly off guard.
Feyd makes an animalistic noise, and something changes in his face.
He smashes your skull into the sand, and you desperately claw at the air, gyrating your body like a sandworm. The impact stuns you, and your vision runs fuzzy. Your brain feels like it's splitting. You see green, blue and pink hues. Strong hands are felt touching you, shaking you out of your reverie.
With feverish disgust, you realize that the Na-Baron is kneeling at your back, hovering over your form.
You feel his palm pat. Once. Twice. Thrice. On your mid-back. He rubs your heaving back in a mock-soothing gesture as you gasp inwardly, sucking in the polluted Geidi Prime air like it was your last time breathing, feeling the air barely satisfy you, feeling like you didn't have enough.
"That has to hurt," he purrs. His hand is warm on your back, rubbing. Your eyes widen with horror.
You cough, hacking now. Taking long, deep breaths. If you could just...
He continues rubbing, and you're glued to the ground.
Your chest betrays you and continues to huff and puff audibly, he must hear everything. It’s screechy, your lungs are burning. His hand movements somehow relax you, which may be considerably fucked up. He hums, satisfied, deep in his chest, the sound making you stare at the ground in confusion.
He stills his caring hand on your heaving back and glides it to the base of your neck, plunging your head into the sand, again and again, not giving you any leniency now.
Well, that didn’t last long.
Your head is concussed, sending short, stabbing pains like a tidal wave to your brain.
You flail wildly, kicking back and upwards, your shoes colliding with his body.
He scoops your short locks in one fluid motion, your scalp searing at the sensation. He removes the grip on your hair to fully cradle your face, whipping you around to face him. Your body is limp, nearly falling to the ground, save for your face firmly held in place by Feyd-Rautha.
"Up we go, no sleeping now." he remarks darkly as his gaze settles on you.
Your throat is bone dry, your lips so swollen and puffy from the gushing blood flowing out of your nose. It's definitely broken this time. But you're numbing out now, slowly, and every so often you see those beautiful, vibrant colours again, shimmering despite the bleached atmosphere. It's such a miraculous sight that it makes you smile dumbly... you're finally happy.
A stinging SMACK knocks your face to the side, and you falter in his grip, eyes widening.
Your shock quickly transforms to frustration as hot, angry tears spill from your eyes.
"Fuck you!" And you violently shove your thumbs into his eye sockets, filled with rage. You dig in with all your might.
Your intrusion makes him stumble, and you both messily fall over. Your body falls into his broad chest, the armour knocking against your worn clothes. By now, the rags have slits all along it, from your near misses with Feyd's blade.
You knock him over onto his back so that you're straddling him, your hands sinking into his eye sockets.
His eyes are fucking gleaming now with delight.
"Yes. Take my vision. End me now." He heartily begs, and his mocking face is seemingly drinking you in, in admiration, despite your thumbs digging into eyes. It’s like he can see past them, and you shiver involuntarily.
His hands and Crysknives lay at his sides, in a strange display of submission. You can see the black teeth behind his lips, widened with glee.
His enthusiasm under these circumstances made you pay far too much attention to his face and miss his ulterior motives.
As you’re about to increase the pressure even more, a Crysknife appears in your vision, like a figment of your imagination—before it’s buried to the hilt in your upper thigh.
You cry out, shrieking, throwing your head back in agony.
The sudden onslaught makes you fall backwards in pain. His blade is still buried to the hilt, tendons throbbing. Only the handle is sticking out, like a thorn in your tendons.
Pulling the blade out right now would be a risk to cause further damage to your blood vessels and nerves. This would lead to rapid blood loss. You couldn’t do that right now.
Immediately, you move. You start to drag yourself—by instinct, fight-or-flight, you don’t know. 
You grit your teeth as you manage to find the strength to reach inside your thigh for your hidden blade, letting your hand grasp on the emerald green handle, pretending to cradle your injured thigh.
You keep it there as you continue to drag yourself.
"You've impressed me a great deal," Feyd-Rautha rasps. The unusual deep raspy tone reverberates through your eardrums somewhere above you.
Something inside you quivers at the revelation.
You know it’s best not to believe any of the drivel that spews from his mouth.
Curiously, he’s standing there, the white of his eyes veiny and visibly red from the press of your thumbs a moment ago.
Playing with his now singular Crysknife, tapping his fingers along the stretch of the blade—making no move to attack you. 
Then a thought occurs to you. Feyde-Rautha wanted you to survive. Butchered and bloody, still barely hanging on. He wanted to see you at your emotional breaking point. Writhing and begging for his mercy, begging for your life. The sick fuck derives pleasure from it.
So you say the complete opposite of what he's expecting.
"I want to die," the level of your drawl is barely heard over the crowds chants and shouts booming through the stadium. And you wonder if he can hear you at all.
You drag your aching body towards him, the hidden knife in your hand still clenched thoroughly, stapled to your inner thigh. Your eyes feel raw, chaffed with sand, burning. They flutter as they try to remain open. But you use your eye muscles to slowly turn your face upwards from the ground, eyes searching for his.
"I want you to hurt like I hurt," you carefully fabricate your trembling voice, peering up at him behind your full lashes. Testing him, you spit vehemently on his black boots, emphasizing your point.
The sheen of it glistened in the black and white atmosphere, slightly outlined in a pinkish hue. You're determined to feast your eyes on him, to look as inticing as ever. You use your tongue to push the blood out from inside your mouth, in efforts to trigger his bloodlust. Blood dribbles down your chin onto the murky pits, stained from you.
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The world shifts as you take your chance.
His black mouth opens wide in a gleaming smile. His interest is piqued.
"Oh," he coos. His pale hand suddenly darts out to grasp your dribbling face. "What a magnificent sight."
His thumbs trace along your bloodied chin. The fresh blood stains his fingertips, and you couldn't place the emotion that was there. Wide, perplexed eyes settle on you. His mouth was not upturned, but in a hard line. His orbs were staring right through you. 
The seriousness of his mouth with the stimulated look in his eyes unsettled you. "Look at the blood of this fighter." He croons.
You pretend to struggle with rapid head movements to dislodge your head from his grasp. He only holds it there tighter. Now you show off your crimson stained lips, pouting in dismay.
Guard down.
He leans down, looming over you as he studies you. As you initially remembered, his ebony armour suit covered his body in an efficient way, everywhere except his ever-exposed face and neck.
His thumb moves from your chin to your full, battered lips.
You make your eyes as pathetic as possible, pleading. He tilts his head in fascination, and you beg.
“Please..”
You feel his thumb stutter on your bloodied lips at the sound, and his eyes blacken at once.
Bingo.
His enraptured pale face is the closest thing to you, and you don’t waste a minute before plunging the blade into the skin of his cheek, tearing through the flesh.
He roars, and you think the blade nicked his teeth as you hear a click.
There it is again: the change. His smirking, bemused face is wiped clean and replaced with a demonic, empty expression. 
You’re suddenly gathered in his arms, and he slams you against the nearest arena wall. You struggle against him, shouting your protests. His forehead presses to yours—your heartbeat pounds. His magnetic probing eyes are otherworldly as they obliterate the world around you, and it’s claustrophobic. 
You writhe and shake in fear, doing everything in your power to throw him off you. You punch him in the nose with a crunch. You punch him again in the face, sending it reeling. Your other hand chops aggressively at his cheek, downward, your palm bruised by the handle of the blade, wanting it to rupture. But all he does is laugh cruelly at you, his eyes glinting.
He withdraws the blade out of his cheek, tensing as he does it. You hear it hit the ground with a clang. He then grasps the handle jutting out of your thigh, wrenching it out.
Your muscles scream. But your voice doesn’t, in shock. He whips the blade away, throwing it to the side.
His tar-like mouth is drooling saliva and blood, panting into your shell-shocked face. Drool hits your chin as devious gaze envelops you, forehead digging into yours.
Your eyes glaze over and your belly flutters at that, mind completely wiped.
Blood begins to trickle—no, outpour from your wound.
You struggle to hold your balance, barely propping up your form.
He falls to his knees then, using his hands to steady you, snaking his arms down your calf. He stops on your ankle, wrapping his pale fingers around it, his other hand clutching the heel of your shoe.
Your blood runs ice cold. You whimper.
“Hush," he coos. "This is what happens when you volunteer to get slaughtered, rodent." 
He grasps your ankle, and turns it sharply, the movement emitting a sickening snap, the pain is ice hot, the guttural scream ripping through your chest emits such a frequency...
That the crowd goes silent.
"Oh," his bulbous eyes are wide as saucers, his evil coming off in waves as he mockingly consoles you. “Such a delectable sound, so beautiful.”
The colour is drained from your face.
“Not much longer, I swear...”  he moans, about to grab your ankle again.
And now it's your hands that are on his face, clasping his jaw in desperation as you tilt his chin upwards.
"You don't get to fucking do this." You hold his head in your hands as you stumble with your words.
You don't miss the amused expression on his blackened teeth, and, every so slowly, his hands come to rest on your hands that are cradling his face. His eyes are on fire. Your hands are on fire at his touch.
He tilts his head curiously. "My, my..."
He keeps your grip there. And the eye contact is too much.
He slowly takes your hands down, trying to pin them to your sides, but you aren't going without a fight again. Your worn muscle strains to keep them planted on his jaw, and you’re the one who’s grinning like a maniac now, thumbs digging into the corner of his mouth, stretching that god awful black mouth open.
He chuckles knowingly, his stretched smile guttural, sounding as if Satan himself had spawned. 
"You are special, aren't you?" He pauses to consider your gushing, bloody mess of a face. The deep baritone husk of his voice is sickly sweet. "Even with everything beaten out of you,"
You can't believe how vile and how utterly deranged and twisted this man was to be toying with your anguish and consuming it like a life force. Like it makes him stronger, all the better off to treat your broken soul as a means to an end. 
You tell him this. You tell him exactly now you feel, past the point of caring. You are out-of-body; you are not even attached anymore, shattered beyond repair. 
“Fucking piece of shit," Your voice is hoarse from your screaming, dryer than the desert wastes.You want to see his face as it contorts, need to see him receive your insult as harsh as it was intended. 
His face doesn't seem to register what you said. His pale head merely drops out of your hands to be level with your ankle again as it twitches in his scratchy and cut-up, war-torn palms, your soft skin supple in comparison.
Your ankle is yanked in one swift, fluid motion, and you know he heard you. The pain is making you see starry, glittery speckles as your eyelids flutter close. 
Death is near.
The crowd says it. That's them. That must be them. All of their voices sound like a chorus—a church choir—as you float in and out of consciousness. 
You don't know how long you've been yanked forward; you swear you've been to the end of the arena, doing laps around Feyd-Rautha. 
Running in a diagonal line, weaving through him. Mother would be proud.
But no, something is heavy, rooting you to the ground and sitting on your chest, weighing you down like a cinder block.
The flaps on his black armoured legs are covering your face in the struggle; his knees are pressed into your cheeks as he gathers your arms, both of them against his chest, holding them to him like floppy string beans.
You push against him, “Fucking Harkonnen scum!" Your anger rips out of your throat; your hatred is not reserved anymore; it’s open, bearing witness for the crowd to see.
“You forget yourself,” Feyd-Rautha sneers down at you as he collects your flailing limbs in his palms. “Your beauty is the only thing saving you at this point.” 
His words strike right at your heart, your chest tightening in dread.
Beauty?
But there’s something else there, amongst the terror. Something you don’t want to acknowledge, and in the desecration of your soul, you feel yourself, your whole body, flush. 
You panic at your sickened thoughts, and you dip your head up to see your jello-like arms captured by Feyd-Rautha. Your broken ankle lies horribly twisted. Your anguished, throbbing limbs and fresh wounds are seeping with agony. And your bones—your bones ought to be mush by now. 
Exhaustion has caught up to you. You've ignored it for so long... so long.
Trying to prove yourself.
Your eyes flutter close.
“Closing your eyes isn’t going to make this go away,” the rough, taunting voice of Feyd-Rautha sends a jolt through your body.
You tighten your eyes harder. 
Let me rest. Let me take a rest from you.
“I said-” His voice was malevolent, husky. “I need to see those eyes again.”
Your eyes fly open, just in time to see his blackened mouth now hovering over yours, his proximity making your body go rigid. His chest is weighing you down, his body caging you.
His dark, gleeful expression seems to ruin you as your nose grazes his. Your heart sings. 
No. This is wrong.
“What are you doing?” You don’t believe your own protest as it spills out of you. Your heart is hammering out of your chest.
The palm of his hand slid over your tattered shorts, over the skin of your hip bone. Goosebumps rise at his touch, and he smiles at that, his wet tongue swiping over his black teeth in perverse fascination.
“How utterly brave,” he whispers, his eyes lit aflame as they locked on yours. He drags a finger down your temple, cheek, and finally lets it rest on your jaw, his touch burning like a brand. “A hero amongst them. One that isn’t afraid to be broken. One that welcomes it.”
“Harkonnen-” your protest dies in your throat when you suddenly feel his tongue dart out to lick the blood gathering at the corner of your mouth. 
You freeze. Your eyes widen as he licks it clean. The black pit of his mouth draws closer, and you’re sinking. Your stomach flips upside down. His tongue slithers into your mouth, an overflow of warmth flowing in your belly. You can’t think... You can’t feel. His lips are surprisingly soft as they obliterate you.
He tastes metallic, with a hint of black liquorice. 
Your body shakes like a leaf in his arms—the nerves overflowing. He deeply chuckles, the sound reverberating in your mouth, as his tongue punches yours, darting around and around. Your thoughts are so muddied you sigh and you’re kissing him back with feverish passion. He groans at that.
His hand is splayed over your abdomen, and you feel the cool sensation of his rings. Something snaps inside you. You break the kiss.
No, what am I doing, what am I doing, what the fuck am I-
"Wait-”
His hand trails lower and lower, settling on your pubic bone.
“I-” 
You're stuttering, scarlet red and flushed with humiliation.
“Shhhh..” His shushes are guttural, and a shiver runs up your spine.
Someone has to stop this, right? Th-They'll stop the battle right, once they realize this isn't a battle anymore.
You watch as his arms slide up and underneath your tunic, deep shame swirling in your belly as excitement and thrill courses through your veins from his attention.
They'll stop it, They can stop, I won't be made a fool of- no I won't-
His other hand's rings caress your ribcage, your skin pin-pricking with want. He traces carefully over every rib bone before pressing. Hard.
You yelp as you snap out of your reverie and dig your nails into his wrist, bucking wildly against him in an effort to get him off of you.
Why would they stop it? You're in the arena with a treasured and respected sociopath—their precious Na-Baron.
His hand slides down your shoulder, down the apex of your arm, goosebumps continuing to rise despite your flailing frame.
Your eyes encapsulated your undoing under Feyd-Rautha’s hard stare. He didn’t believe you for a second as he watched you flail about. His sickly eyes were large and expanding at your blatant but silent need.
"N-Na-Barron, you don't need to trouble yourself. I'm a peasant, worthless all around. Surely you wouldn't dishonour yourself...disrespect yourself..." Your ramble came in short gasps.
It sounded pitiful and sad to even your own ears.
Something flashes over his eyes in amusement as he considers you.
“Oh,” his rough voice muses. “But I do respect you, pet.” 
And at that, his ringed fingers cupped you, sliding over your nub.
Your face came alive, then. Like he had never seen. Your eyes swirl, cheeks flushed, pink mouth open—tormented by your enjoyment.
“So lovely,” he encouraged. You shuddered inwardly, your insides like a million shards of glass as his ink-stained teeth smiled down at you.
You’re unable to keep up with his ministrations. A sob wracks through you, the pleasure travelling the whole length of your skeleton down to your toes.
His hot mouth is moving over your collarbone as you struggle to punch him.
He hovers over you, brushing your resisting face with his fingers. He covers your angry fist and snatches it to his chest, holding it steadfast.
"Give in now, you poor thing."
Instantly, your eyes are sucked into his deep blue ones, as he quickens his pace. Flicking back and forth.
You cry out, arching into his chest.
His mouth opens in a mocking, seductive gleam, clearly loving your reactions.
“Can’t-” you think you go to another dimension, a cosmic shift as you try to make sense of what is happening to you.
“Can’t what?” He grovels, low and heavy. His hunger is apparent. His tongue makes a home in your ear, as your eyes roll back into your head.
Faster and faster, he demolishes your entire being, breaking you from the inside out.
You think you go to Caladan for a moment, maybe to Arrakis—your body flying as the pressure builds.
Somehow, in the midst of adrenaline, your battle instinct takes over, and you're able to roll on top of him, bringing his forearm that has disappeared in your trousers with you. 
You sit up straight—on top of him, shakily wrapping your hands around his throat.
A sinister laugh erupts from under you. Feyd-Rautha angles his flicking wrist so that it never leaves you, his free hand seizing the cleft of your hip completely still. Your body sputters in shock.
Your glassy orbs flicker over his angular, pale face like a hawk, stuttering with vulnerability, and he senses it.
He hoarsely speaks below you, his desire thick. “I need it, give it to me, I want it, I need you,”
His words hit you like dynamite as the pleasure amounted within you, tears in your eyes at the intensity of the moment. His bulbous eyes never left you, his black mouth opening at the sight of you in utter devotion. Your hands release from his throat.
Your defeated eyes are engulfed by his as you collapse onto his chest. You felt the throes of submission envelop you - needing, wanting to be under his scrutiny, his gaze. His armoured arms fastened you in his grip, anchoring your shaking form in his arms, holding you close.
His pale head went rest on your shoulder blade for a moment, then pulled you back to leer at you. 
This intimacy with.. him.
It could not be replicated through space and time.
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Feyd-Rautha hauls your crumpled form to him, his white hand digging into your hip as he tosses one of your arms around his shoulders. He's doing most of the heavy lifting as you lean against him, depleted and brutalized. He’s walking you towards the stands.
Your face was caked with dirt and blood, swollen. You were numb - to his violence earlier, to his.. attention.   
A bellow is heard above. 
"Exquisite, nephew." The Baron nodded at the both of you, his enormous form like a boulder in the stands. “You lest come across a treat among the gutter like that in your lifetime.”
You turn away, your brow furrowing in disdain.
You feel a harsh slap to your cheek, the bite of it temporarily distracting you from your seething anger, but fuelling it nonetheless. “Look at my uncle when he’s addressing you.”
“Just kill me,” you gritted your teeth as you whisper at him, feeling debased, undignified.
His eye contact was immobilizing.
"Oh now you beg, treasure?" Feyd-Rautha says deeply, in awe. "When you've stopped fighting?"
You barely process the term of endearment as it shuts you up.
Feyd-Rautha is holds your upper torso, forcing you to stand against him, squeezing your cheeks together as he inclines your face to his uncle.
Plump lips encase the shell of your ear, his hot saliva sending waves of.. something down your spine.
“You should be proud." Feyd grunted out. "I don't service those in the arena often, but when I do...”
He plays with your ribs, his fingers cold underneath your tatted and holey shirt.
“I make sure they are worthy of it, to add to the display,”
You know exactly what he means by serviced, and you feel mortified of the memory, knowing - The Baron, noble ladies and the noble men all have seen it. They must know that nothing is off limits for a sadist - you could imagine he tortured and serviced men and women alike - you doubt it mattered to him.
It was the Harkonnen Arena, everything for the ease of entertainment. 
Your protest was instant. “Go fuck yours-”
"Shut your mouth, pet, before I send you away to be a slave, the only worth you'll ever live." He threatened. "If you're to behave, you'll be here, training with me, for battle regularly.”
“I don’t blame you, nephew,” The Baron jeered from the stands. “How did you learn to move like that, girl?”
Feyd-Rautha’s mouth was open again—a tunnel of black tar. “Answer him.”
“A peasant never reveals their secret, my lord.” you bluntly say, not caring for the repercussions.
You hear Feyd growl in a warning before the Baron interrupts him, erupting in jolly, sick laughter. “Oh, what fun you’ll have with this one, nephew.”
“Indeed, uncle.” Feyd’s deep blue irises drink you in as he snatches you roughly.
Feyd-Rautha steps around the arena, presenting you to the people like a spectacle. He allows you your respect, holding you with your arms stretched like a splayed out starfish. The flat of his palm is pushing the centre of your spine.
You do feel like you’ve gone through hell as you hear the crowd roar in applause. You do feel like you’ve earned something. But you didn’t. You failed. Tears roll down your face.
Did I mother? Did I do it?
A flash of your mother’s caring eyes envelopes you. She nods, her angelic presence swarming around you.
“You did well, daughter.” A whisper. “I couldn’t have asked for better.”
She cradles your head in your hands, tilting your head to meet her warmth.
You grin, happiness enveloping you, grasping at her shoulders. You want to hold her, but you can’t. “Really, mother?”
“Yes, Caladanian." Her warm smile is pitch black. Her praise is false, a lie.
With a sick feeling, it’s his voice now whispering in your ears again, breaking you from your dreamy experience. 
Feyd-Rautha's chest is pressing into your bruised back as he holds you to him.. Can he.. let you keep speaking with your mother, just for a moment? Would he, if you followed orders, if you made no trouble?
“The honour you deserve, pet..” His thumbs wipe at your tears as they dribble down your sunken cheeks, but his face is devious. “I shall wash and clean you myself, and then you’re going to rest in my arms tonight,” His whispers aren’t of comfort, like hers—his voice is too brazen, too guttural.
His eyes are a bottomless pit as his hand travels to the base of your neck.
“I think you might be my favourite..” He squeezes, briefly cutting off your air supply and you sputter and cough.
You feel faint. A stream of water is forced down your lips, and you drink it, still coughing.
Your vision is hazy, and you decide it’s time to sleep. It’s like he’s rocking you back and forth, the length of your body dragging along the sand, back and forth and back and forth and-
Shushing you, soothing you, like a baby. 
Still hearing the crowd congratulate you, the deafening cries of the Harkonnen people clear in your eardrum, still feeling him grip you -
In your weakened state, a surge of lightning flows through your veins. From the gods, perhaps?
They’ve seen what you did; they’ve seen what you’ve endured.
There’s colour now in this bleak, desolate oasis. You’re the colour.
The black sun seemingly speaks as it encases your entirety. 
You have won, dear one. You have survived.
PART 1 PART 2
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nxtt2-u · 1 month
Text
sugar cube ⟢ lee felix.
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SUMMARY. you visit your baker boyfriend of seven months for a surprise breakfast date at his café.
INFO. 2.2k words. f!reader. established relationship. non idol au ; baker!felix. fluff & light crack(?).
WARNINGS. some swearing & felix says something suggestive like once.
NOTES. the song that hyunjin sings along to is camp by basecamp! it inspired me to write this (despite the lyrics having nothing to do w the plot) so i strongly recommend you give it a listen :) this is lowk a filler fic cs i’m still working on that seungmin slow burn.. but enjoy nonetheless! feedback is always appreciated <3 unedited as of 8/17!
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When you step into the cozy café your boyfriend owns, the small bell above the door cheerfully announces your arrival with a loud jingle. You slide your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and tread over to the counter with a yawn.
It’s quiet today, you note, and you discover why when your gaze drifts over to the usually-packed seats of the shop. You’re the only customer right now — it must be so empty because it’s not even seven yet, you conclude. With a tiny nod to yourself, you turn back to the display case stacked full of fresh sweet treats and lean down to get a better view, despite seeing the exact same selection every time you come here.
“Welcome to Sugar Cube Café!” A friendly voice calls out from the stock room. You look up and trace the sound to its source, finding the dark brown door to the space ajar. The voice continues, though it sounds a bit more winded now. “Someone will be with you in just a moment!”
“Take your time,” you call back in response and go back to peering down at the pastries on display. You silently contemplate on whether you should try something new as an upbeat song floats through the small shop.
A loud crash suddenly sounds from the back room and you jolt in surprise, blinking with bemusement. A second later, a familiar lanky man with a black mullet stumbles out, his fluffy hair mussed and the signature red apron of the café he wears slightly rumpled from all the commotion. You smile, biting back a giggle at your friend’s clumsiness, and he returns it as he moves to man the register.
“Hey!” Hyunjin says brightly as he presses palms down to lean on the counter. “Haven’t seen you in a while! What would you like today?”
You open your mouth to respond, but the barista doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak before his own mouth is running again. “Hold on, you never visit unless…” He quirks a brow, still grinning a bit toothily at you. “Are you here to actually buy a sweet treat for once or just to see your boyfriend?”
You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face contrasts the seemingly-irritated action so strongly that Hyunjin knows you’re not truly annoyed. “Actually—” you start, but he scoffs in a knowing tone before you can finish.
Hyunjin feigns hurt as he dramatically slaps a hand over his heart. “How could you!” He wails, since no other customers are currently present due to the early hour. “And here I was,” he continues with a sniffle, “thinking you’d come to visit and try one of our delicious treats for once.”
You punch him in the arm in playful reproach and he whines loudly, hopping further away from you despite the already considerable distance between you two due to the counter. “I do visit for the treats, not just my gorgeous man,” you huff. He ignores you in favor of clutching his arm, howling like it’s a damn bullet wound. “You’re so annoying,” you sigh to conceal the small chuckle that escapes you as you go back to perusing the pastries.
While you fall quiet and take a moment to contemplate, Hyunjin finally tames his hair and straightens his apron as he quietly sings and sways along to the new song that comes on. You nod along to it for a moment as well before tapping on the glass at Felix’s signature brownies. You’ll just try something new next time.
Hyunjin follows the lyrics into the rap verse of the song as he goes to pull a box of the brownies from the display while you sidle back over to the register to pay. He returns and places it on the counter a minute later, free hand fumbling for a bag as he busies himself with ringing you up.
Just as you remove your card from the reader and prepare to ask Hyunjin about the name of the song, you startle when a deep voice calls from the back. “Hyunjin! What did you do with the flour?”
You grin at the familiar Australian twang that softens the vowels of the newcomer’s words. With an exaggerated sigh, Hyunjin pushes the bag into your hands and wanders to the backroom, quietly closing the door behind him this time.
You slip away from the counter to claim your favorite booth near the windows. As you settle onto the cushion that’s slightly warmed by the fresh sunlight slinking in, you appreciatively admire the plants that hang from the ceiling with a smile. This café is so cozy; you love how Felix and his crew decorated it.
You tug your phone out and begin to mindlessly scroll on social media while you wait for your boyfriend to come and meet you. Without looking, you pull the box of brownies out of the bag, only to jump for the third time today when you look up to find Hyunjin looming over you with a steaming cappuccino in hand.
He sets it down with a snicker. “I was wondering when you’d notice me. I would’ve stood here for an eternity if that’s how long it took, seriously. Anyways, Felix is wrapping up now, so he’ll be out in a sec—”
“No drink for me, Hyunjin?”
You laugh at Hyunjin’s startled expression, pleased to see he’s the one to spook this time. Felix slides into the seat across you with a cheeky grin and Hyunjin mutters something about his blood pressure before he’s bounding across the café and into the back room once more.
Your boyfriend looks spectacular today, as always. Today he’s donned a distressed sleeveless red, white, and black argyle sweater on top of a collared white shirt that also happens to be sleeveless. He’s paired it nicely with a black tie and black jeans to match.
The simple display of his lean muscles has you salivating more than the smell of the freshly baked goods that’s starting to waft into the air from the kitchen. You notice he’s foregone his apron at the moment, presumably because he’s here to sit with you.
Blissfully unaware of the thirsty observations you’re making in your mind, Felix reaches across the table to lace his digits with yours. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today? I could’ve made you something special, sugar,” he pouts, thumb rubbing small circles onto one of your knuckles.
Your crazed thoughts melt into something softer at his sweetness. You smile at his thoughtfulness and lift your intertwined fingers to splay them out in an attempt to compare hand sizes. “I wanted to surprise you,” you say. You see the beginning of a toothy grin forming on his face at your words, but he quickly stifles it when he sees what you’re trying to do.
He snatches his hand away with a rueful huff when he sees how your hands dwarf his in comparison, and he lightly kicks your shin under the table. “I take it back,” he sniffs in a haughty manner, looking out the window with his nose raised. “I will never make you anything ever again.”
You giggle, bright and gleeful, and it’s not long before he’s breaking into laughter when he sees your face scrunched up in amusement. He’s too cute.
Both of you eventually settle down and you find yourself steadily drinking your cappuccino while he nibbles on the brownies you bought. Hyunjin eventually brings him freshly steamed tea, as your boyfriend has a notorious distaste for coffee despite owning a café, and the two of you chat quietly about your upcoming plans for the weekend.
You’re in the middle of proposing a possible future vacation together when the door bell chimes and three other employees stroll inside, talking loudly amongst themselves with smiles warmed by the sticky heat of summer.
They nearly don’t notice you as they head to accompany Hyunjin in the back, but Jisung swivels around last second and waves with a grin while his coworkers continue to talk. The two of you wave back and resume your conversation when the trio finally piles into the other room.
“So, Jeju Island?” Felix asks, tilting his head slightly. You nod, setting down your now-empty coffee with an affirming hum.
“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could visit next Spring. I want to visit the Cherry Blossom Festival; it’d be so fun to go together, you know?”
He nods and rests his cheek in his palm with a soft smile. “I’d love that. We can work everything out in more detail as it gets closer, but for now, it’s a date. Right, sugar?”
You grin and intertwine your hands with his once more. “Of course. I look forward to it, baby.”
Someone gags from beside you. You blink and twist to find Minho standing at the foot of your table, grimacing at the two of you in disgust. Felix promptly bursts into laughter at the sight, and you find it hard to keep a straight face when you hear the silly noise.
Once Felix is calm again and has wiped his tears, Minho sets down a to-go box of cookies. “Chan says to take the day off and have fun,” he says, cocking his hip to shift his weight and wincing when it pops. You snort on accident and he glares, though it holds no real heat.
Felix arches a brow. “What? Nah, I have to work today—”
“FELIX!” Someone barks from the back. The Australian accent that blankets the man’s words is a dead giveaway of who the voice belongs to. “I have a feeling you’re refusing right now!” Chan continues to yell. You feel bad for everyone in the same room as him right now.
You expect to hear another shout, but let out a relieved breath when he pokes his head out through the door a second later instead of continuing to destroy the ears of his coworkers. “Just go, man, we got today covered. You deserve a break!”
Felix opens his mouth to protest, but in the blink of an eye you suddenly find yourself pushed outside of the café doors by Jeongin, the newest and youngest employee. His eyes crinkle with the apologetic smile he gives as he locks the door, and the two of you just stare in disbelief as he prances off to the kitchen like he didn’t just kick Felix and his girlfriend out of the café he very owns.
You continue to blink owlishly at the now-locked handle until Felix just puffs out a laugh as he runs a hand through his hair. “Damn, there’s no way he just did that!” He exclaims, loud enough to be heard through the thick glass. Nobody comes out of the kitchen.
“Well, nothing I can do about it now,” he sighs, turning to you with a mischevious grin, despite knowing full well he can just go in through the back. You play along regardless.
“Yeah, it’s a shame right?” You reply, giving a disapproving head shake with a tut. “That’s actually crazy. Well, since you’re off for the rest of the day, we should totally go back to my place and cuddle on my couch to binge watch sad K-Dramas,” you say, twining your hands with his and already starting to drag him down the street.
He lets himself be tugged along and lifts a hand to cover his mouth as he gives a playfully scandalized gasp. “Wow, that’s all you want to do at your place for once? Shocker.”
You slap him on the shoulder and his words dissolve into the snickers you love to hear in his low timbre. Eventually the two of you make it to the metro and file into a car that’s thankfully not full despite the time nearing the start of most people’s work schedules. You manage to snag two empty seats side by side, and he leans onto your shoulder with a pleased sigh as you admire the scenery that whizzes by.
You play with the ends of his blonde locks as his eyes slip shut and he falls into that strange haze between asleep and awake at the gentle touches. Once you’re home, you’ll push him down onto your couch and cup his pretty face. You’ll pepper adoring kisses all over his freckled skin, pressing words of love into his features. You’ll eventually pull away to put on a K-Drama you’ve been meaning to watch, but it’ll quickly be forgotten when Felix tugs you into his lap to return the favor.
But for now, you let your boyfriend rest against your side in this crowded cab of the metro. You pull your gaze away from the windows to instead admire the slope of his nose, the plushness of his lips, and the freckles that dot his cheeks akin to the constellations above.
When his nose crinkles after a few minutes of quiet dozing and he lightly shakes away an oncoming sneeze, you realize with a dopey smile that you’re in love with him. You don’t know how such a small action could abruptly trigger a realization as grand as love, but you can’t wait to show it through delicate caresses and sweet kisses when you get home.
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vminizzle · 2 years
Text
Sex shop
pairing : bestfriend!jungkook x f.reader
genre : SMUT, fluff
warnings :masturbation, really bad description of sex shop & stuff (sorry), mention of sex toys (not used, maybe in part 2 who knows ;) hehe ), teasing, use of pet names, praising, marking, first time, love making, penetrative sex, unprotected sex ( wrap It up guys! ), creampie, slight cockwarming, THEY ARE CUTE UGH
best friends ͜͡➸ to lovers ♡
words count : 4.2k
A/N : pls I’m insane (the way I had to clean my search history) ,, sorry this is a whole mess. I don’t know what I had in mind when I started writing this. I spent ages on this fic and ngl it didn’t turn out how I wanted but I tried my best :). I wrote this there is a long time ago but I decided to edit it 💀 & sorry for my english.
FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED
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M RATED
“see you on monday!” you waved at Jungkook as he waved back driving away.
You sighed as you walk to your friend.
“so, today your boyfriend doesn’t walk you home?” she teased. 
“Jungkook is not my boyfriend“ you blushed slapping her arm playfully.
"please you guys are always together. like always! Studying, hanging out together, shopping, lunch.. Except when he’s working on the weekends. He even sleep at your house.. I’m asking myself what you guys do-”
You gasped slapping her arm lightly.
“what? Chaeyoung stop! don’t say non-sense, we’re just..best friends.” you retorted looking down.
“yea yea whatever.”
Chaeyoung and you walked to your house, eating ice creams on your way.
“so what you wanna do?” you asked unlocking the front door.
“let’s just do nothing.” you laughed nodding.
You were laying on your couch scrolling though your social networks lazily when Chaeyoung suddenly jumped on you.
“Yo look at this!” she shoved her phone to your face.
“what is it?”
“it talks about masturbation.” she explained.
“and what about it?” you asked confused.
“I read that some women masturbate with water pression.” your cheeks heated up at her sudden burst.
“w-why are you even reading this?” you handed her the phone back.
“ just saw a girl from our promo repost this article.” she shrugged.
“that’s really suprising. I mean I’ve never thought about masturbation with water pression. Like I mean, using toys are easier no?” you looked at her eyes wide open.
“oh my god stop!” you threw a pillow at her face as she caught it midway laughing.
“wait! Don’t tell me you don’t masturbate, do you?” you hesitated before answering.
“i-it’s kind of personal.” you muttered.
“ugh stooooop we’re friends.. except you rather talk about it with your "best friend.” she wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.
“Can you just stop with him?“ you groaned.
“so tell me.” she whined shaking your arm repeatedly.
“well, yea.. like every other teenagers.” you cleared your voice making her grin.
“how many toys do you have?” she asked curiously.
“ok enough! this is so embarrassing.” you whined.
“not at all.” finally letting go of your arm as she grab her soda can on the glass table in front of you both.
“i don’t own any...” you muttered.
Chaeyoung chocked in her soft drink “you don’t?!” you shook your head.
“I don’t need it so.. yea.”
She stared at you silently for awhile.
“you should buy one.”
“why?“ you laughed awkwardly.
“it’ll be a new experience, another level of pleasure. And maybe it’ll please you more than your fingers or whatever."
How can she talks so openly? you thought.
“i know a great little sex shop not so far from here!” she exclaimed.
“you should check it out!”
“I’ll think about it.” you said, wanting this conversation to end.
❁ — •*:。✩
You furrowed your eyebrows, bottom lip caught between your teeth, the pressure on your clit making you feel frustrated.
Your legs spread wide open, fingers going in and out of you slowly to tease you a bit.
Rubbing little circles with your thumb on the throbbing nerve trying to stimulate you a bit more.
10 minutes. 10 fucking minutes that you were trying to make yourself cum.
You didn’t know if you were too tense, stressed or exhausted but these days you couldn’t make yourself reach your highs. You groaned and gave up as you sigh annoyed getting up to wash your hand.
Later, you smiled as you sat on the edge of your bed, noticing a message from your best friend on your phone.
[20:42] kook : just arrived home, I hope you spent a nice afternoon. You’re probably sleeping or watching something on Netflix without me :( 
[20:44] y/n : hey yes i did. How was work? nahh I’m gonna sleep. wanna wait for you next week to watch our serie :)
[20:45] kook : work was alright. ohhh that’s my girl hehe can’t wait for next week then!
[20:47] y/n : nice then. You’re working all day tomorrow ?
[20:48] kook : yea unfortunately I’m working all day :(
[20:49] y/n : ughh!! good luck for tomorrow. Go take a bath and rest idiot. 
[20:51] kook: thanks princess! Sleep well too love ya ♡ 
[20:53] y/n : hehe love you too ♡
You let your body fell back on the mattress, smiling like an idiot at the small conversation.
Jungkook could always make you smile without even trying.
Noticing a early message from Chaeyoung, you opened it.
[18:57] Chae : here the address of the sex shop I talked about earlier : <address>. I know how curious you are sometimes 👀 hehe you’ll tell me. xoxo
Your smile vanished when you thought about your little talk with Chaeyoung.
“ok” you sighed deeply.
“I’ll go to this shop tomorrow.”
❁ — •*:。✩
Waking up with the warm sunlights caressing your body gently. You stretched out groaning at the sore muscles.
You checked your phone. 1pm.
Well damn, that was a long sleep.
You decided to take a shower, eat lunch and get ready to “visit” this little shop.
Not wanting to be seen at such a place, you put a cap enough to hide your face a bit. You went for a oversized hoodie, a jean and a pair of vans.
Comfy.
You didn’t know why you were so nervous to go there. Is it because you’re scared to meet someone you know there? Is it because you’re embarrassed to see all the stuffs you’ll probably discover there? What type of things you’ll find?
“C’mon that’s just a shop y/n the fuck is wrong with you." you whisper-yelled to yourself before pulling your cap lower.
You took a deep breath as you put your hand on the knob of the door.
“Let’s go.”
Entering the place hesitantly, you looked at your surroundings. Deep red velvety walls, lights keeping the shop bright enough to make it less dark, shelves full of stuff you never knew the existence of.
The cashier welcomed you and you smiled at him politely.
Walking further through the shop, you noticed shelves filled with magazines, covers of obscene pictures of naked women and men making you cover your eyes feeling like a shocked and scared kid.
You blushed as you passed by lingeries hanging on the walls. Not lying to yourself, they were so pretty.
You brushed your fingertips gently over the soft materials, some velvety ones, lacy ones and other lingeries more… revealing.
Different boxes at the back of the shop intrigued you as you approached them.
Getting closer, you gulped feeling a little lump in you throat.
“what the fuck are these oh my gosh” you whisper-yelled completely shocked.
Not only vibrators were there, but anal plugs, anal beads, dildos, strap-on dildos , bdsm toys… handcuffs, ropes , flogger , whips, open mouth gag, blindfolds, spanking paddles, cock rings (pls help me!!), fleshlights …
“nipple clamps? That sounds so painful.” you whined covering your chest.
”urethral sound? oh lord i don’t even have a penis and I can feel the pain." you held your stomach, disgust painting your face.
“the hell are these? rabbit vibrator? butterfly vibrator?… bondage hood?? h-how do people breath oh my-”
(little break, let me clean my horrible search history real quick and drink some water my head is spinning with all these new information lmao)
Looking around you noticed bondage furniture and other stuffs making you uncomfortable.
“Chaeyoung is completely insane what the hell!”
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?”
A really familiar voice could be heard behind you. You turned around only to see your best friend.
”J-Jungkook!?“ you said louder than you thought.
“y-y/n?! What are you doing here?” shock written all over his red face.
”I’m hm I.. wait! What are you doing here?” you said trying to avoid his question.
Jungkook stayed quiet, mouth opening but no words coming out.
Looking at his shirt, you noticed the logo of the shop on it. ”you work here?“
Your eyes widened as you glanced at his red ears.
”hm.. yes.” he replied, head down as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
 “Oh.. that’s why you’ve never tell me more about your job…“ you trailed out.
He nodded looking at you again.
“and you? What are you doing here huh?” he asked curiosity laced in his voice.
You chewed on your bottom lip, searching for an answer.
“so?” he smiled teasingly ears still red.
“yo stop with your weird thoughts!” you punched him on his shoulder.
“personal stuff.” you muttered.
“well, I guessed it’s for personal stuff.” he looked around you smirking.
“oh shut up.”
“so what.. are you searching for?” you looked up at him shocked.
“eh that’s my job calm down.” he laughed as you looked around searching for someone else than your best friend to help you.
“I .. hm.. I came for this!” you grabbed a random box on the shelve next to you not even looking at it.
“wow..is this for you?” Jungkook tried his best not to laugh.
“yes!”
“never knew my bestie has a dick.” you looked down at the box .. cock ring.
You closed your eyes embarrassment washing over you. He laughed softly as you put the box back at his place quickly.
Looking for a diversion, you glanced behind him “hey what’s that?!” you pointed at a random spot.
When Jungkook looked over his shoulder, you grabbed the box of a vibrator running away with it.
“what?” he turned back only to see that you weren’t here anymore.
You stopped running, putting your hand over your heart as you tried to breath slower.
Looking up, you noticed that you were at the lingerie "booth”. Your eyes stayed glued on one of them.
A black one exactly.
You touched the soft bra, fingers sliding on the lacy material. It was just so cute and sexy at the same time.
You shook your head walking at the front of the shop to the cashier.
After paying your product, the cashier told you with no shame to “have fun”.
Gosh what a day.
❁ — •*:。✩
You groaned exasperatedly throwing your purchase on your bed, this one bouncing on the mattress and ending on the floor.
You decided to take a shower, letting the warm water caress his way down your body pleasantly, helping your muscles relax, washing the stress and shame away.
After your shower, you went downstairs opening your fridge to take a bottle of ice cold water. You needed something fresh to calm down from all the events that happened today.
You swallowed down the liquid, the cold water hitting your throat in a pleasant way.
You jumped when you suddenly heard knocks on your door startling you.
You furrowed your eyebrows checking your phone to see if Chaeyoung texted you announcing she was coming over but nothing.
Opening the door you were faced to the last person you wanted to see today. The embarrassment too “fresh” to handle.
“Hi.” Jungkook smiled shyly.
You looked down nodding acknowledging his presence.
“hm.. can I come in?” he asked after a few seconds.
“oh! yea yea of course.” you let him in, closing the door behind.
“so.. what bring you here?” you talked still avoiding his eyes.
“can’t I come visit my favorite best friend?” he tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow up playfully.
“your one and only best friend.” you huffed.
“yep! my only one. mine.” he grinned cutely.
“yes. yours.” you smiled back this time looking at him, this one still smiling.
The atmosphere changed. You didn’t know how, why but it changed.
Something in Jungkook’s gaze changed for a second before he cleared his throat.
The word ‘yours’ affecting him a bit too much.
He couldn’t think like that, no , you’re his best friend.
But he wanted you more than that. He wanted you to be his.
A pleasant silence settled as you stared at each other, his eyes on your lips time to time.
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed out.
It was so sudden yet so tempting.
“yes.” you whispered as he approached you taking your face in his hands gently before connecting his lips with yours.
He kissed you softly, his hand sliding down your side to rest on your hip.
Kissing him felt so magical. It felt so unreal.
Jungkook pulled away, resting his forehead on yours before chuckling.
“i’ve never thought I’d kiss my pretty best friend one day.”
You chuckled hiding your face on his chest. He pulled you closer, hugging you.
This hug wasn’t like the others you shared before. This one was different. You could feel his heart beating faster when you wrapped your arms around him.
“y/n.” he spoke again.
You looked up at him waiting for him to continue.
“i.. i think.. I’m in love with you.” his cheeks red from the confession.
“think?” you teased.
He rolled his eyes smilling widely “I’m in love with you.”
“i’m in love with you too.” you said shyly before kissing his cheek.
He smiled before capturing your lips for another kiss, a sweet and loving one.
This time the kiss was longer, his hands creeping behind your back by your waist and tugging you closer onto his body.
The way your bodies were against each other’s made you feel some type of way.
A feeling you’ve never felt before. An unfamiliar feeling deep down in your stomach making you moan into the kiss as Jungkook’s hand went on your lower back pushing you harder on him.
He groaned feeling blood rushing down there. His growing boner pressed on your lower stomach.
You pulled away breathing heavily.
“I want you.” Jungkook whispered, his hands playing with the strings of your -his- hoodie.
“I want you too.”
You looked toward the stairs. Jungkook got the hint and took your hand in his walking upstairs.
It wasn’t the first time he came into your bedroom but this time, it wasn’t for studying, watching movies on your sleepovers or take naps… no this time was different.
Jungkook closed the door before walking to you, taking your chin between his thumb and index.
He leaned down, his lips envelopping yours into a loving and slow kiss again.
He started leaving little pecks, his lips trailing down to your jawline, to your neck sucking gently on the soft skin.
You walked backward to your bed letting your body fall on it pulling Jungkook in the process on top of you. He giggled softly as you caressed his cheek softly.
Your fingers went down, playing with the buttons of his shirt before unbuttoning them slowly one by one while looking into his eyes. He helped you taking it off completely throwing it away.
He bent down, lips on the side of your neck pressing light kisses, his hands sliding under your hoodie.
“can I?” he said gently pulling at the hem of the garment.
You nodded before sitting and raising your arms up. Jungkook chuckled pulling it off your beautiful body.
You suddenly froze, realizing that you were half-naked in front of him.
Your hands flew directly to your bra-covered breasts. If you felt exposed with your underwear on, you wondered how you’ll feel naked.
“don’t be shy.” Jungkook said softly.
“Easy to say when you don’t have breasts.” you muttered.
“i do have breats! But they’re super flat..it’s like they’re non-existent.” he said playfully palming his pecs.
“oh gosh stop.” you laughed slapping his arm.
Jungkook laughed too before taking your hands in his.
“look at me.” he started “your body is so beautiful. You are so beautiful. Don’t be shy around me. You know you can trust me and be yourself with me. So don’t hide from me.” you locked eyes with him, his words making your heart skip a beat.
No one ever talked like that with you.. about you.
You nodded with a smile decorating your lips.
“That’s my girl” he said as he peck your forehead.
He laid you down again gently, hands wandering on the bare skin, so soft as his fingertips caress their way up and down, goosebumps raising after their journeys. 
Jungkook lowered his head, his soft lips on your collarbone starting leaving open mouth kisses and little love bites there and then.
His mouth cascaded down on your chest, sucking on the sensitive skin to leave little reddish and purplish flowers.
He continued his way down, kissing every part he could, not forgetting to leave little marks proving that he has worshipped your beautiful body as it should.
He stopped when he reached your panties, looking up at you, a silent request to have your permission to take it off.
You hesitated for awhile, rethinking about his words. You did trust him. A lot. More than yourself perhaps? But being this exposed was really difficult for you.
Were you ready for this step?
“If you’re not ready or if you’re uncomfortable it’s ok princess, we can stop.” you heard him speak again pushing you out of your thoughts.
“take it off.” you answered.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes.” you lifted your hips a little bit as he dragged the soft material off your legs.
“so pretty.” Jungkook murmured as he caressed your thighs.
He took his time adorning them with love bites and hickeys, making them look even prettier at his eyes.
His face got higher, just above your most sensitive part.
He kissed your clit gently making you hiss. The new sensation so good making it throb, anticipation growing more and more.
The need to close your legs really tempting. And that’s exactly what you did.
Jungkook got off the bed to get rid of his pant.
You immediately looked away when he glanced at you, hands on the waistband of his boxer ready to push it down.
He blushed thinking about the fact that it was also his first time being naked in front of someone.
He still chuckled at your shyness murmuring a quiet “cute.”
Jungkook hissed as he finally freed his cock from his confinement, the sensitive tip hitting the air before slapping against his stomach.
You breath hitched when you felt the bed dip again signaling that Jungkook was back.
He made sure you were confortable, pillows behind your head, blanket over your bodies as you suggested for more ‘intimacy’.
Jungkook hovered you before talking again “are you nervous?”.
You gulped before letting a small yes escape from your mouth.
“Are you?” Jungkook nodded.
Both of you knew it was both your first time.
“If you’re not ready we can stop.” you said softly.
He smiled shyly nodding “y/n we can stop at any moment. Understood?”
You nodded hand cupping his cheek, thumb caressing the cheekbone.
Jungkook positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing teasingly on your folds making you moan.
“´k are you sure?” he asked one last time.
You nodded before he stopped you, shaking his head.
“I need a verbal approval y/n.”
“I’m sure and I want you to be sure too.” you said softly making him hummed.
“oh wait wait!” Jungkook exclaimed.
“what is it?” you asked confused many scenarios creating in your head ready to make you panick.
“be my girlfriend. no! I mean, w-would you like to be my girlfriend?” you chuckled at how cute he was.
“I’d love to Kook” you pecked his lips making him smile widely, eyes turning into little crescents.
Jungkook started entering you slowly and carefully making sure not to hurt you, checking up on your facial expressions time to time.
You gripped on his bicep hard as it started to burn. The unfamiliar intrusion uncomfortable.
You hissed, the pain making his presence more and more.
“are you ok? Do you want me to stop? Pull out? I can st-”
“i’m good don’t worry, keep going slowly please.” you whispered.
Jungkook peppered kisses on your cheek and neck, to distract you from the pain of the stretch as he pushed in deeper until he completely bottomed.
You groaned, tears forming in your eyes “shh, you’re doing so well darling.”
He caressed your cheeks a bit concerned “Tell me when I can move yea?”
On the other side, Jungkook suffered in his own way.
He scrunched his nose, bottom lip trapped between his teeth at the warm tightness around him so foreign, his mind going wild.
You took a deep breath, trying to surpass the burn down there.
You nodded gesturing him to move again. This one, thrusted in and out slowly, taking his time not to hurt you and enjoy the new sensation around him.
He groaned as he started feeling this exciting and pleasuring feeling making his cock twitched inside you.
You moaned softly, the pain fading away and the pleasure coming gradually.
The burn was still there but it was bearable, it felt good as Jungkook continued his slow moves.
“J-Jungkook” you breathed out hand gripping his bicep tightly nails digging into the flesh.
“you ok princess?” he whispered against your lips.
“It f-feels good.. you feel so good” your eyelids getting heavy, trying your best to keep your eyes on him.
He looked so handsome. On top of you, lips swollen with all the kisses exchanged, a light blush decorating his cheeks, his ears red, chest gleaming with sweat, little droplets formed on his forehead….. so ethereal.
As Jungkook continued moving in and out of you, the pleasure took over, the painful burn long forgotten.
Your hands travelled to his back, fingernails were buried into the soft flesh of his muscular back drawing little crescents.
“you’re doing so good baby. so good for me.” he caressed your cheek.
Jungkook took his time making love to you, nibbling on your earlobe lightly as he whisper sweet nothings into your ear.
You scratched his back as he gripped your thigh lifting it a bit getting deeper inside you.
“fuck please don’t stop.” you whimpered voice cracking, his length rubbing deliciously against your warm velvelty walls.
The wet and warm feeling around him made him feel lightheaded. You felt too good to be true.
He pressed butterfly kisses on your jawline, his lips travelling down leaving beautiful dark red flowers on your neck, continuing his path to your collarbone biting it lightly enough to form a little mark. “so pretty.” he whispered more to himself.
He let out a low groan as you clenched around him “fuck!” he rolled his hips sensually grazing over your sweet spot making you whined out loudly.
You ran your fingers through his soft locks. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back into the pillows as Jungkook hit deeper.
Art. Just art. You looked like a masterpiece.
All covered up with hickeys, the red and purple marks on your skin making his eyes sparkling with lust, admiration and love.
“you’re so beautiful. so beautiful all marked up.” he said fingers running over the little bruises he left. “mine. you’re mine.”
The vein of his neck was prominent as he moaned when you tightened around him, the pressure making him weak to a point “baby d-don’t stop clenching p-please.” 
“Jungkook I think I’m- fuck.” you moaned feeling the knot in your lower stomach tighter, your heart beating faster as the pleasure propagated inside you.
Jungkook placed your calve over his waist, he cupped your jawline, his lips barely touching yours as he whispered “cum for me love.”
He furrowed his eyebrows at the way your walls convulse around him. “fuck! I’m so near!”
Jungkook slid his veiny hands up your arms until they reached your hands, pinning them at each side of your head as he tangled your fingers together.
The sweet little gesture making your heart stop.
He bent down to press kisses on the sensitive marked-skin of your neck. His touches overwhelming you.
Butterflies finally blooming into your lower stomach as you came around him.
The sudden wave of pleasure forming tears in your eyes as they slid down your cheeks. His name leaving your throat in a high pitched moan.
Your soft moans pushed him over the edge of his own release, he moaned deeply as he came inside you, filling you up to the brim.
The warm cum made you sigh as you let your body relax against the soft sheet.
“i love you.” he pushed stands of hair out of your face.
Heat rushed to your cheeks, the three words making your heart melt.
“i love you.” you whispered softly, caressing the back of his head gently.
Jungkook buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling you.
You chuckled, hand stroking up and down his back to soother the scratched skin. He looked up at you before pecking the tip of your nose.
“’m tired.” you mumbled yawning.
“let’s get you clean up first cutie.”
He was about to pull out when you groaned pulling him down on you. “let’s stay like this please?” shyness showing up again.
“as you wish princess.”
He laid a kiss on your temple before turning around on his back, pulling you on top of him. His slow heartbeats and an last I love you were the last thing you heard before drifting off in his warm embrace.
a beautiful relationship started and probably a wild one …
a/n : not a frequent f2l fic right? I hope i did good - a part 2? I love writing fluffy smut since I’m a romantic person 😭 sorry sorry. Anyways, thanks for reading luvs. Take care of yourselves :)
+ I forgot to add that jk and reader are both college students and it’s a part job for Jungkook.
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lixzey · 1 year
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ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴇ !
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𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙼𝙴 જ⁀➴
hi, my name's ellie and welcome to my blog!
i just started writing on this platform last september 2023. i've been writing fics since i was twelve (yes, it was cringe) on wattpad. i would love to read your feedback, or be friends! my inbox is always open for anything 🫶🏻
anyway, here's some lil facts about me:
i'm 21 years old • she/her • filo-canadian • enfp • libra baby • mother of a four year old girl • a gryffindor child of aphrodite • has adhd and wears glasses • has photographic memory • loves writing (obvi), music, and reading
- i live in the philippines, so pls bear with me. i try to be awake the whole night so i can post when most of my followers are awake
- as i've mentioned, i am a mother to a four year old. so when i get delays in posting, blame her (lol pls don't blame my kid)
- pls don't be rude to me :( i cry at the simplest things :( so hate will definitely be deleted.
xoxo, el 💘
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𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
╰┈➤ CHARLIE BUSHNELL
╰┈➤ LUKE CASTELLAN
˚₊· ��͟͞͞➳❥ divider by @saradika-graphics
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
‼️All of my works are purely fictional and are intended for entertainment only. I do have a wattpad account of the same username (lixzey_), but I haven't posted anything that I have written there aside from one. Please do not repost any of my works on any other site. ‼️
TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹
The Story of Us - In which you are Timothée Chalamet's high school sweetheart. After a messy break up ten years ago, Timothée is Hollywood's it boy, while you are a rising star. The two of you will star in a new movie, what could possibly go wrong?
Letters - One day Timothée receives a package from someone unknown: a basket of eighteen letters. Letters from a girl named y/n. A mysterious fan who poured her heart out in her letters and is trying to fix herself. As Timothée begins to read, and the letters begin to run out, he finds himself falling for this girl.
Until one day he stopped reading.
Because she stopped writing.
Can't Help Falling In Love - In which two strangers accidentally get married.
Forever Yours
Heart to Heart
My Girl
The Girl With Hair Longer Than Rapunzel
24 Hours
Paradise
Bride for Rent
The Unknown Number
Bad idea, right?
Catching Feelings
Over and Over Again
Angel Eyes
Risk It All
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TIMOTHÉE'S CHARACTERS `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹
Foolish Ones - Theodore Laurence
Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Wonka
Choices - Paul Atreides
Against All Odds - Hal [The King, 2019]
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STAND ALONE `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹
• Rising Star
• Daddy's Angels
• More Than Words 🔥
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THE MARAUDERS `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹
James Potter
• Almost A Love Story
• Must Be Love
• To All The Boys I've Loved Before
• Once Upon A December
• Me Before You
Regulus Black
• Monster Among Men
• To The Moon and Back
• Protego Maxima
• Forever and Always
Remus Lupin
• Professor, Professor
• Head Over Heels
• Seven Minutes to Forever
• Timeless
Sirius Black
• Golden
• The Name of The Game
• If Only
• Safe and Sound
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PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹
Luke Castellan
• Serendipity
• Sincerely, yours
• Lovelorn
• Late night cravings
HEROES OF OLYMPUS `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹
• blood runs thicker than water
Leo Valdez
• leo valdez x dionysus!reader headcannons, friends to lovers
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mopopshop · 3 months
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hello hello!! absolutely love your fics! i was wondering if you write for kelsey plum? if so could you write an age gap fic where reader gets signed to lv and kp automatically takes a liking to her and casually flirts her way to a date with reader
Flirt (Kelsey Plum x OC)
i wrote this high, i’m still high so i hope it eats😝 please enjoy and give feedback if you’d like!!
You never imagined you'd be here, standing in the middle of the Michelob Arena, with your name freshly signed to a WNBA contract. It felt surreal, like a dream, and your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. 
As you finish the final paperwork, you catch sight of Kelsey across the facility. The realization sends a thrill down your spine. You've heard stories about her intensity on the court and her infectious charisma off it. What you hadn't anticipated was the way her eyes would light up when they met yours.
"Hey, Leah, right?" Kelsey's voice is smooth, confident. She walks over, her stride effortlessly casual, and extends a hand. "Welcome to the Aces. I'm Kelsey."
You shake her hand, trying to keep your composure. "Thanks, It's an honor to be here."
Her smile widens, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "The honor's all ours. We’ve been keeping an eye on you. Impressive stuff."
Your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Thank you. I'm really excited, you know— for all of this."
Kelsey nods, her gaze lingering on you a bit longer than necessary. "How about I give you a quick tour? Show you the ropes?"
"Yeah, that’d be great" you reply, grateful for the chance to get to know her better and to familiarize yourself with your new surroundings.
As she guides you through the facilities, pointing out various areas and sharing stories, you find yourself relaxing in her presence. Kelsey had a way of making you feel at ease, her natural charm and wit drawing you in. Her gaze intense and alluring. 
"You know," Kelsey says as you both reach the locker room, "you're going to fit in just fine here. But there's one thing you need to know about me."
You raise an eyebrow, curious. "And what’s that?"
"I'm a bit of a flirt," she admits with a playful grin. "So if you ever feel like I’m coming on too strong, just let me know. I promise I can tone it down."
You laugh, the sound light and genuine. "I'll keep that in mind."
Over the next few weeks, Kelsey stays true to her word. She flirts casually, making little comments that send your heart fluttering. She compliments your game, your style, even the way you tie your shoes. It's never over the top, but always enough to keep you on your toes, wondering if there's something more behind her words.
One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, you find yourself alone in the gym, shooting some extra free throws. You're focused, determined to improve, when you hear footsteps approaching.
"Up for a game of HORSE??" Kelsey's voice echoes through the empty space.
You smile, turning to face her and fake a grimace “You really wanna do that? Cause I’ll beat your ass and it’s not gonna be cute"
“Damn, rookie. Trash talking me now?”
“Just warning you” you shrug sarcastically.
She rolls her eyes playfully “Fine, but let’s up the stakes for whoever loses” you look at her and she stares back expectantly.
“Set your price, rookie”
Finally realizing what she’s saying, you respond quickly “If you lose… you have to let me style your pre-game fits for the next— two weeks”
She grins lightly “Okay, okay, I’ll take that. But if you lose— you gotta… let me take you out sometime”
You freeze and your breath catches in your throat “…Okay.. but don’t hold your breath” you tease as you calm down.
She laughs, grabbing a ball and joining you on the court. You play your game of HORSE, the tension between you palpable but unspoken.
The game winds down, leaving Kelsey with a win. She approaches you sheepishly, spinning the ball between her hands.
“So… about that date..?” she smirks.
You chuckle, shaking your head at her persistence. "I guess a date wouldn’t be that bad”
She grins triumphantly, tossing the ball aside. "Tomorrow night? We can grab dinner after practice."
You consider it for a moment, a rush of excitement mingling with nerves. "Tomorrow night sounds good."
"Perfect," she says, her smile widening. "I'll pick you up at seven."
As she turns to leave, you call after her playfully, "But don't think this means I'm going easy on you in practice!"
Kelsey laughs over her shoulder. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Leah"
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Dirty Work 14
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: Pretty sure I'm getting another sinus infection.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You realise a little too late that you have no idea if you should do more than pour the brew into a mug. You recall Frigga mentioned Mr. Laufeyson took his tea black but was it the same for coffee? You never drink it so you wouldn't know better. You hate to presume.
So you find a small tray, setting the mug on it with the dish of sugar and a little porcelain milk urn. You balance is all and climb the staircase tremulously, the task made heavier by the dread nipping at your ears.
You come down the hall and stop before the study door. Your hands are occupied so you gentle tap with your toe. Without an answer, you try again. Still, you're met with only silence.
"Mr. Laufeyson?" You call through, "I have your coffee--"
The door a few feet down opens instead and you turn to face the dour occupant. Mr. Laufeyson beckons you wordlessly with a curt gesture before he disappears behind the door frame. You follow as you let a breath slowly out your nose. Inside, he sits at the writing desk, the laptop open as he tilts his head at it. He has your notes open, shamelessly perusing your reminders.
"Here you are, Mr. Laufeyson," you put the tray on the desk.
"There we are," he accepts tersely and sits back, swiping up the paper from atop the gold and white folder. He eyes the estimate left by the carpenter with your signature at the bottom. "So, what are we to do about that infernal thing?"
You fold your hands and wait for his answer. You realise he does not want one from you. He sniffs and slips the paper over the keyboard, letting it drift slightly over the edge. He sits back and look at you.
"It is the last of your worries, surely," he says flippantly, "firstly, this..." he taps the laptop, "you leave it here. As if you do not care."
You purse your lips. You won't argue. If he wants you to take it home, certainly you can, but you don't have wifi or a need for it beyond these walls.
"What if something should happen? You would want to have access to all your..." he eyes the screen, "clutter."
"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. Noted."
"Noted?" He scoffs and unfolds his arms, "right."
He moves the paper back to the folder and types swiftly, much quicker than your chicken pecking. He sits back proudly and once more sets his sights on you. You clutch your hands tighter and await further remonstrance. This is his vengeance. You can't help but feel you deserve it.
He reaches for the mug, disregarding the milk and sugar, and blows over it. He watches you as he sips.
"Mm," he considers the double-walled cup, "bit strong..."
"Mr. Laufeyson, I could try again--"
"It'll do," he dismisses, "as I said, other concerns. And as I also said, several times, and how you know I do hate to repeat myself, this..." he points at you, flicking his finger up and down, "attire."
You look down at yourself and shrug. The clothes aren't that bad, only plain. Maybe not to his standard but you don't see how they're so wrong.
"Mr. Laufeyson, I don't know--"
"You don't know much, do you?" He challenges, "well, you better catch up." 
He pauses to take another sip, cheeks straining as his throat tightens. He can barely choke down the coffee, making you feel even worse. Is it that bad?
"Are you not curious why I've returned early?" He sets the mug down as he leans forward.
You're quiet. It's not that you don't care, you just wouldn't dare ask. Not after last night, you wouldn't want to bring up bad feelings.
"I see you had my return marked in your calendar," he continues, "I suppose I spoiled your plans, hm?"
"No, Mr. Laufeyson," you assure him.
"So you are happy for my return?"
Your cheek twitches. It's an odd question. One that has no right answer. A trick.
"If you're happy, Mr. Laufeyson, then I am too."
He seems surprised by your answer as his brows arch and his lips part slightly. He closes his mouth and narrows his eyes as he watches you. He chortles and stands.
"How..." he struggles to find a word, "foolish."
You're struck equally by his response. The threat that underlines it and the rebuke in his tone. You dip your head down.
"Call the carpenter," he orders as he retrieves the bill, "I'll sign off on the repairs."
He struts by you as you stare at the tray and his unfinished coffee. Another to-do: you'll have to figure out that machine. 
🧹
It isn't until you sit down to work that you realise the door is still open. The one adjoining the library to Mr. Laufeyson's study. You can hear the subtle tap of keys as he sets to work. You hunker down to do the same, overly mindful of each little noise.
You'll make your call to Ronan elsewhere so you don't disturb the silence. You go through your list, marking down what can be done today in your phone. You get up and slowly move towards the door.
"Sneaking off? You are so good at creeping around? Like a little cat," Laufeyson intones before you can let yourself out. You look back as he stands in the other doorway, "I have an appointment shortly. You will let them in when they ring and show them up."
"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you agree.
"So you won't stray far."
"I won't."
He waves you off lightly and disappears into the study once more. You turn and quietly shuffle into the hallway. You go downstairs and pace as you dial the phone. Your nerves are a swirl. Mr. Laufeyson is suffocatingly observant.
"Ronan Carpentry," the voice comes from the speaker.
"Oh, ach, hi," you nearly choke on your tongue, "hi, um, I'm just following up on an estimate."
He asks for your name, you give your own but add Mr. Laufeyson's as he would be the leaseholder. The air is static as the man is silent on the other end. He hums and finally speaks again.
"So you would like to go forward with the work?" He prompts.
"Yes, sir."
"When would be best to begin?" He's straight to business. You can appreciate that.
"Hmm, well, I could do most days except Wednesday but the owner would be here."
"Would he be handling this or would you?"
You trace a fingernail with your thumb, "me, I guess."
"Thursday works for me," he confirms, "if it suits you, miss."
"Great," you sigh, "yeah, Thursday works."
"Nine good?" His deep voice is smooth like syrup as it drips through the phone.
"Nine," you confirm with a squeak, "thank you, sir."
"Of course. Have a good one."
You eke out a 'you, too' and hang up. You exhale out your nerves. You're even more jittery and you don't know why. Usually getting phone calls out of the way is a relief. 
You do your best to focus, working down the list until the doorbell buzzes. You jump, taking a moment to recall the expected visitor. You rush out the front door and down the steps. You come up to the gate but find a car waiting by the bigger door. You hit the button so it rolls open and lets the brown vehicle through.
The man that gets out has gray hair and pale blue eyes. He looks around curiously as you cross the lot back to the house. He gives you a friendly smile as you approach and offers his hand, "Loki hanging around here?"
You daintily shake his hand, a gesture you're unused to. His grip is firm but not harsh.
"Mr. Laufeyson is upstairs in his study, I can show you in--"
"Mr. Laufeyson?" He repeats, amused, "in his study? I can find my way," he lets you go, "he didn't tell me he had a lady friend."
Your mouth forms a surprised squiggle, "I'm the house manager."
"Ah, house manager," he clucks, "interesting. Well, can't keep him waiting, I'm already late."
He shoots you with a finger gun and rushes past you. You frown as you turn to watch him. He's not what you expected. You don't see Laufeyson as tolerating someone like that, not that he puts up with much.
As you enter the house, you hear the man's voice upstairs. You're not used to signs of life. His gregarious greeting is soon smothered behind a door. You carry on.
At one, you take a short break in the garden to have your peanut butter sandwich. You thought of eating at the counter as you usually do but being inside is starting to feel oppressive. You chew the dry bread and thick spread, staring at the foliage without seeing.
Your eyes are drawn up as you sense movement and you find curtains being drawn back on the second floor. A figure lingers behind the pane before backing away. You're certain it's Mr. Laufeyson. You hope he's not bothered by you being out in the garden.
You finish the crust last, your stomach mulching up the food violently, and you dust off your fingers. You take out your phone and check the list. No time to waste. You had your ten minutes. You can get through a few more hours.
🧹
Tuesday comes and goes in a similar slog. Your hours are whittled away as you find yourself under the omniscient eye of Mr. Laufeyson. Each time you think you're alone, he appears. He looms but doesn't speak, lurking and waiting, for what, you don't know. At the end of the day, you still don't know. You go home, just as you do every night, without a farewell.
Home sees you just the same. Leslie's finishing up as your father sits over a new puzzle. It's been ages since you've seen him so consumed by anything besides his cigarettes. You sit and have dinner at the nurse's insistence and bid her off. 
Your father stays up as you go up to shower and settle into bed. The last six days hang off your shoulders like sandbags and needle in the muscles between your shoulder blades. You lay down and fall asleep almost as soon as your head meets the pillow. You've never been so exhausted in your life.
You wake up, less refreshed than groggy. You make yourself get out of bed, wanting to get stuff done on your singular day off. After you have your tea and get your dad his coffee,  you get to the chores that you couldn't do throughout the week. Mopping and vacuuming, then laundry.
As you work on the second floor, your father sits with his puzzle. He's fidgety as he hunches over the table. You watch him as you sweep the floor around the couch. He catches you as he glances up. He scowls and shakes his head.
You gather the dust and dirt into the pan and dump it out. You check the time. It's nearly lunchtime. You wash your hands and check the cupboard. There's a can of tuna leftover from your last grocery trip. You'll try to do another on your way home from work tomorrow.  You take out your phone and add it to your reminders.
You go back to the living room as your dad holds a handful of pieces and tosses them one at a time onto the wood as he searches for a particular shape.
"Are you hungry at all?" You ask.
"I want a fucking smoke," he growls.
"Well, I'm sorry, I don't have any," you tuck the phone in your pocket and push your hands behind you, clasping them tightly. The weight of it presses against your thigh.
"Don't be a fucking smartass," he throws the pieces left in his hand at you and they scatter on the floor. "Maybe if you got off that phone , eh?"
You kneel down to gather up the pieces. He snarls and hits the table. You pluck up the last few and set them on wood as you stand.
"Where'd you get a phone like that, huh? Expensive? You been buying yourself all this nice shit and I'm sitting here on a stinky fucking couch rotting away," he accuses.
"It's for work," you say, "I'm gonna make tuna sandwiches."
He sits back and huffs, swiping up the remote and jabbing it through the air towards the television. He sets the volume on blast so your eardrums pulse. You step back as he jams his thumb into the buttons.
“Makes me wonder what kinda job affords you a fancy phone like that?”
“Huh?” You grimace.
“Well, you got no schooling, got no skills,” he sniffs, “only got one thing of use.”
He can't mean… that. You're his daughter. Your eyes sear and gleam as you shake your head.
“I… I'm a house manager,” you croak, “dad–”
“Sure,” he guffaws, “what kinda idiot would want you managing their house? They probably haven't seen this dump.”
“Please, I'm trying–”
“You always gotta fucking yammer!” He barks and a hot pain bounces off your arm. 
You grunt and look down as the remote hits the floor. You rub the tender spot as you let out a shocked ‘ow.’
“Go fucking cry about it. I can't hear the TV over your whining.”
You hold back the wall of tears and pick up the remote. You set it by his puzzle and back up. Yo wiggle your nose as you sidle out of the room. hiding your face.
You move tentatively like prey avoiding the vicious eyes of a hunter. Your arm throbs as you feel a welt forming. It's better to hide before you get more.
You forget about the tuna as your hunger evaporates. You can only think of the pain that goes much deeper than flesh. That rent in your heart that can barely contain your despair. It splits wider as the stress of the week threatens to overflow.
You retreat to your room as the salty tears begin to stream, catching along your nose and dripping off your chin. You close the door and hurtle yourself towards the bed to bury your face in the pillow. A hard shape presses into your leg, a corner stabbing you bluntly.
You lift your hip and fish around in your pocket to free your phone, tearing your pocket inside out. As you go to put it on the nightstand, you notice the timer in the corner. Didn't you lock it before you shoved it away?
You sit up and gulp back sobs, shaking as you stare at the ongoing call. Mr. Laufeyson's name is blazed across the screen. You put it to your ear and whisper, “hello?” You swallow and make yourself speak louder, “hello?”
The line clicks and you pull the screen back. The call's ended as the option to return the call pops up. You blacken the screen and turn the phoje face down, dropping it onto the night table.
Did he hear all that?
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