#I guess the guts are implied
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asnarkyandironicusername · 1 year ago
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Day 08 of @remadoramicrofics - Guts
Remus feels moss and ferns brush his stomach as he crept through the Forbidden Forest. In front of him, a brown hare dug through fallen leaves. Drool flooded his mouth as he caught its scent. Despite his slow, deliberate motions, the Hare must have spotted it because it bolted. No matter, Remus had its scent and bounded after it.Twigs reached out and scratched at him as they raced through the underbrush. 
As he readied to pounce, the hare ducked into a burrow. Remus began clawing at the dirt as he snarled. He wasn’t about to lose his prey, not now. Above him, a crow cawed accusingly. Just as he was about to relent, he saw a flash of white and snapped his jaws around the soft flesh, reveling in the cracking of the bones.
No. Something is wrong…very very wrong. It isn’t a hare under him, but a child and his wife. The sweet iron taste in his mouth soured and burned. And the crow…the crow was all wrong. The crow above him, calling out his sins, is far too shrill to be a crow and far too close to be in the tree that loomed above them. He looked up to see Andromeda Tonks screaming at him.
Just as a flash of green filled his eyes, he sat up to find himself not in the forbidden forest, or any forest, but his bedroom. “Remus,” Tonks’s voice flooded his ears as she shook him. “Remus, wake up,” she huffed, “you’re having a nightmare.”
Tendrils of sweat ran down his back as Tonks pulled him against her. He squirmed out of her grasp. “N-no,” he gasped, “the baby, is the baby –”
She reached out and pulled his hand to her stomach. “The baby is fine,” she told him as he felt their child squirm under her skin. “I’m fine. We’re both worried about you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said as he ran his hands over his face, “for waking you.”
“You’re my husband, I want you to wake me up when you’re having a nightmare. That’s part of it,” she said as she wagged her finger, letting the small rock glint in the light. He was certain she’d charmed it to catch the light no matter where it was, likely to hide the fact that he could only afford a very modest stone and band set. “Tell me about it,” she whispered as she ran one hand across his shoulders and used one to hold his hand on her.
“No,” he said quickly. He squirmed out of her grip and settled on the bed, turning his back to her.
She wrapped an arm around his chest and rested over his heart. She leaned up against him, breath ghosting his ear as she whispered, “Please, maybe I could help –”
“It was you, Dora, you and the child and your mother, she –”
Tonks giggled. “I’m telling Mum you’re having nightmares about her.”
“No, no you can’t –” his breath hitched as he felt tears prick his eyes.
“Hey, hey, you listen to me,” she told him softly as her hand drew patterns over his chest, “it was just a bad dream. It doesn’t mean anything, Remus John Lupin.”
Remus was quiet, so she continued, “Please, tell me about it. If nothing else, I deserve to know what my part was.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. Her heart shaped face seemed fuller than it normally did and he wasn’t sure whether she was morphing it now or had simply been spending most days morphing the baby weight away. Her lips were set in a pout to match her furrowed brow and her pink fringe fell over her forehead and simultaneously stuck up in all directions. 
“The victim,” he said finally, remembering her horrified and pained expression. She rolled her eyes but stayed quiet as he continued, “I was in the Forbidden Forest, during the full moon, and there was a hare. I…I was hunting it –”
“I’m not a hare, Remus.”
“No, I know, I think the hare was…I don’t know – I was chasing it but it dove into a burrow so I tried to dig it out. I think I did,” he added. “But when I looked up, saw the carnage, it wasn’t a hare or a burrow…It was you…and our child,” he whispered. “I killed my own –”
He was quieted by her hand slapping over his mouth. She leaned over him, pinning him down to the bed with a hand on his chest and a hand on his mouth. She swung her legs over him, settling in his lap. She leaned over as far as her stomach allowed. 
She brought his hand back to her abdomen as she said firmly, “No, you didn’t. Your wife and child are right here, next to you, very much alive. You dreamt that you killed your family; they are not the same.”
He swallowed as she leaned down and replaced her hand with her mouth. When she sat back she smiled down at him. She settled down next to him, never letting his hand leave her swollen stomach as their child pressed against it.
He laid there for a while, waiting for Tonks to fall asleep. Her breath never evened out, though. Instead, she whispered, “But, even though it was just a nightmare, I promise not to go out in the Forbidden Forest – as a hare or otherwise – for the rest of this pregnancy.”
“And you’ll stay away from me during transformations,” he prompted. Lately, she had been getting a little too relaxed. Last full moon, she had become so confident in Remus and her potions abilities that she had visited him. 
“Yes,” she said.
Remus nodded, feeling sleep pull at him. 
“If you’ll tell me one thing,” she said, jolting him awake.
“What?”
“What was Mum doing in it?”
“Screaming at me,” he admitted.
Tonks laughed. “I’m so telling her,” she said through hiccups and tears.
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puppyeared · 2 months ago
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you are umasou
#I watched it today it was so good#im not big on dinosaur stuff but i like how it was used to approach the predator/prey conversation especially when both sides are sentient#instead of just defaulting to well since predators are meat eaters their actions are automatically immoral so their role in the story#has to match. and then when your characters /are/ meat eaters you just step around that whole topic#heart knows he has to kill and eat so there’s no avoiding it but even he knows he has agency over that#hell he even decided to hunt by himself so umasou doesn’t have to see him kill and eat another dinosaur a day after meeting him#and maybe its because it’s a kids movie but it also doesn’t make a big show over the act of hunting and eating. it doesn’t dwell on it#like yes you can clearly see them ripping into guts minus the graphic details but it doesnt go out of its way to censor it either#its played straight just like hearts mom having more kids like nobody asks who the father is or when that happened cuz it doesn’t matter#what matters is she still loves heart and encourages her kids to greet their big brother and they do!!! it’s sweet#Beckon was also an interesting touch bc they make it clear the only reason he doesnt eat umasou is bc he cant and not that he wouldn’t#but he’s still a funny and interesting character and that doesn’t get in the way of how we see him too much#same for baku he was pretty polite with heart esp from the start when he asks him if hes abandoned implying he would be prepared to#look out for him from the start. and at the end when he decides to spare him. I dont hate him at all hes just intimidating#you are umasou#doodles#I wanted to draw smth more detailed but I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go with the cartoony art style#or smth closer to realistic?? so this is like. some sort of compromise I guess
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forestgreenlesbian · 8 months ago
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#feel like my relationship with my younger brother is changed completely forever not to be dramatic lol but i am sad#we used to b very close but he has kind of. found his faith again and gone full missionary christian which like. i knew meant the dynamic#was doomed lmao but actually acknowledging it makes me sad i feel like i'm grieving for the friendship we used to have even though#it is literally a me problem i think from his perspective he doesn't think anything has changed. but i feel weird about everything#also his new gf is nineteen and he is. almost 25 and i am the only one who feels weird about it like i know she's over 18 but! idk i can't#tell if i'm being overly cautious or if my gut instinct is right. my sister & her husband have a similar age gap but they met when they wer#both over 30 so like. it didn't feel weird. and i didn't feel comfortable actually seriously talking to him about it apart from the first#time he mentioned her over facetime (he went to another country to do mission stuff & met her there) so like an idiot i've just been#making jokes about the age gap becausee like. thats always been our thing lightly bullying each other lol but he blew up at me and said#i've had nothing positive to say about her since he's been back home and that he thinks i hate her and i'm out of line for constantly#implying he's creepy for dating someone younger. idk i felt like such a freak idiot horrible person about it. it completely blindsided me#bc yes the jokes were coming from a place of idk how i feel about this situation so i'm going to rely on the humour-based communication#we have always fallen back on as a safety thing but i guess i was wrong or the dynamic shifted or something anyway it's all fucked#& everyone is just telling me i feel weird out of some?? misplaced kind of jealousy thing?? because i'm 'losing' my brother to his gf lol#which does not feel right at all he has dated so many other girls and i have never had a problem it is literally the age gap like i haven't#even met this girl i'm sure she's very nice! i just worry about her being nineteen!! jesus. and yes maybe i do feel some resentment around#a brother younger than me who seems to be able to live his life with zero difficulty whilst i'm stuck being this unemployed loser who ruins#literally ever friendship & relationship ive ever had but i think thats ok right like i can't help feeling that. i don't fucking knowwww#am i just projecting all these sad feelings about our friendship dying onto his new relationship or like. am i right to be genuinely#concerned she's six years younger than him and still a fucking teenager!!!!!! i don't know
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scover-va · 1 year ago
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Kindred Spirits
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sysig · 7 months ago
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Giving nicknames, testing boundaries (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#Max Vyer#Dexter Favin#How /did/ Max come to like him so much in just two years? I have my theories :3#More Teen Max!! Nothing has changed I just continue to love him lol#Two years is a pretty quick turnaround for such a stubborn kid - though I guess for a child two years can be a long time haha#Went from just hating Dex's guts of trying to drive him away and make him quit and hating being kept on a short leash#Does make me wonder how much of him kissing him was an impulse - I mean obviously lol but how much was genuine attraction!#Certainly seemed like a lot :0 Even upon being rejected he couldn't give it up! Still took him another several years to act again tho haha#I mean - in the text lol who knows what they got up to in the time skips hehe ♪#AnyWay lol - them getting used to each other of slowly working into tolerating each other#Max said something in one of his wake-ups that as I read it implied Dexter was something of a polyglot?? Which - love that ♪#If not conversationally-fluent then at tourist-fluent y'know I think that's great <3#Which got me thinking about other languages and insults and curses haha#I like the idea of Dex only really strong-arming Max about Actual deviant behaviour - something that puts himself or others at risk#Harmless little things like any teen would do - like name-calling! Haha - just get a kind of neutral ''Huh''#As well as interest <3 Not an outright dismissal not a lecture but at least the appearance of investment!#Considering Max's home life I can't imagine he had all that many people genuinely (or fake) interested in his shenanigans#All about suppressing the symptoms more than rooting out the cause it's amazing what just showing a little interest can do#I also just think it's cute of Max getting away with something silly and harmless but totally biting and mean! <in his mind haha#Silly lad <3
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trans-leek-cookie · 10 months ago
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can someone teleport me to the poolrooms and shoot me so my blood is staining the pristine tiles and water. Nothing should be alive there
#Jesus Christ I just realized that ur cells might temporarily live on after You The Person die. Like i guess it depends on what counts as#Alive but even when ur heart stops I'm guessing ur red blood cells might stay active???? Not to mention the bacteria in your gut#Me: wouldn't it be so cool if there was blood in the poolrooms bc they're so surreal and pristine and the blood would both break that#And yet be perfectly fitting moreso than any living being? Wouldn't that be cool?#(realizes that even after ur brain shuts off your cells probably won't die in perfect sync and some might survive even briefly after YOU di#And that's what causes some sort of existential anxiety attack) what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck#Seriously though sorry if I sound like an edge lord but i want to put blood in the poolrooms bc it sounds so beautiful. The red blue#Contrast and the staining of the tiles itches my brain just right. It's not something you could make a story about it's something you have#Take on it's own. Like you have to let it be an image whether written or drawn it can't be (primarily) a story. Like there's an implied#Story (who took a gun into the poolrooms) but you have to prioritize the spectacle rather than the series of events#Does this make sense? Writing about someone being teleported to and murdered in the poolrooms is fine but#The simple... It's not shock but the way a dead body with deep red blood either laying on the tile or floating in the pool#There's a story but the story pales in comparison to the single snapshot of the moment. I should've been a fish#Like a pufferfish with a beak so I could eat clams I saw a pufferfish eat clams in person one time and it was fuckin incredible literally#Life-changing. It's just like ok. Yeah ok thats right that's how it's supposed to be. I understand now
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totallyunreal · 6 months ago
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That Guy was sooooo wild teehee he was hot and handsome and funny and he propositioned me (ewwww x\) and said he wanted to meet!!!
and he said some really scary things to me like how he was gonna do a little bit of [redacted] to me and kill me at work and stalk me and find me at my job and oh my god im still fucking scared even though we blocked him i still get so fucking scared in public because i dont know if he still wants to pursue me
is he going to get me in his truck? is he going to get me? am i gonna go missing?
hahahahahahahah what a funny guy!! i never want to go to california again
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humming-fly · 1 year ago
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ough all this good good mir falspar art is faaaantastic - also looking at that image where he's covering his wounded arm with his other hand, is there any risk in doing something like that for long? Like if he (or anyone else) puts their hand over those scratches does it risk shredding them, or is it more just an affect on something attached to that part of his silhouette? loving the growing intrigue into figuring out What's Wrong with Mir Falspar!
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The only things that seems to be affected are those that are attached to his silhouette on or close to his left shoulder, so his right hand has remained un-shredded, and isn't at any risk. Other reflections are unaffected as well—the damage appears to be contained only to Mir Falspar. (In fact, the list of those who know there's some kind of crack beneath his clothing causing his armor to deteriorate, and that it's not a fashion statement, is incredibly short to begin with)
#i am getting a good grade in asking questions class something that is normal to want and possible to achieve#i am still thinking So hard about these guys and i'm thrilled to know the constant visits to your ask box have me in good favor haha#i just love all the Details in all the bits of art i haven't had this much fun picking things apart since i read paranatural#like the detail here that falspar is using a new plain gray pauldron implying he was trying to change out his broken one#so this was probably real early on and potentially even the night he respawned#then the fact that by the general pink decoration/wheeled chair this is almost certainly dragato's room he's in#i love it all i am looking so intently#i am rolling the most ridiculous crack (ha) theories around in my head at any given time#me with my loony conspiracy theory hat on:#maybe the scratches were caused by dark mind to threaten mir falspar into not befriending dmk and 'weakening' him#and that's why mir falspar doesn't want to talk about it to anyone/had that look at the end of the garlude epilogue comic#originally was guessing it was mirlude's wacky sword but the cuts on his arm are Super Odd for that kind of weapon#unless she was just like#flailing at him with just the tip or something#and dmk's scar doesn't re-break his mask at all so seems like a different mechanic unless his healing really did just fix that problem#dmk's scar also doesn't show metallic underneath like scratching paint off a mirror but it was also a shallower cut i guess??#hmmmmm#HMMMMMMM#also thinking real hard about who knows about the cut from that last comment#dragato obvs but like Who Else#i am becoming increasingly convinced dmk genuinely has no clue#guess arthur knew about that sword mirlude stole#sketchiest scenario is arthur was the one to threaten him but that seems less likely#we don't know much about him but doesn't seem quite as 'action oriented' as mirlude was#or it really was just dmk doing some random bullshit out of nowhere and falspar does genuinely hate his guts#could be!#real fun to think about though :)
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cosmictheo · 8 months ago
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𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 | feyd-rautha
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( gif credits to @wondrousashes )
—summary: on a calm day back at your home, you shattered away the serenity as you decide to confront feyd about his alleged concubines and the little secrets he seemed so cautious to hide, pushing him further and further to the edge. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 4k —warnings: arranged marriage, jealousy, a bit of implied smut (the actual smut is coming up in the next and last chapter !!!), mentions of sex, mentions of cannibalism, feyd being a slut for the reader (as he should), mentions of killing and death, hot and very passionate love confessions, definitely ooc!feyd.
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)
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The week at Giedi Prime went by so fast that you hardly noticed any of it. The first day had been a bit slow and tedious, but the ones that followed turned out to be more than agreeable and enjoyable, Feyd-Rautha had been very concerned about keeping you entertained and as comfortable as possible, showing you every corner of the palace and walking you around the city.
But for now, you were back at your home for the last visit you would have there before becoming a Harkonnen. Feyd was staying close to you through all the reunion, naturally, diplomatically greeting your family.
“You met his cannibal lovers yet?” Paul's voice echoed inside your head between Feyd's conversations with Duke Leto, your gaze drifting to your brother in absolute alarm, horrified at the question and relieved that, so far, the answer was negative.
“There are rumors that tell how his concubines feed on the hearts of his dead opponents.” Your brother propelled you with the oh-so-cute information about your future husband. “The bastard has not one, but three. I guess you'll have to battle it out with them for his love, that was Duncan said.”
“Stop it, don't be an idiot.” You snapped back at him, averting your gaze from him to Feyd-Rautha, who was conversing ever so formally with Lady Jessica now.
You couldn't imagine him eating of human flesh, nor fucking three different women at the same time. Although, rumors always started from something and during the few times you had been able to get inside Feyd's head, you hadn't seen anything that was remotely pretty or light.
Paul's words managed to resonate in your head, lingering between the walls with a sense of suspicion.
Maybe that was why he never showed you the intimacy of his chambers... because on his bed lay three women compliantly awaiting for his attention and lust.
For some reason, the false image of him fucking them, bodies intertwined and interlinked, voices whimpering and moaning, made you feel respulsive, your guts twisting like a serpent.
You didn't want to believe it was jealousy, but again, your mind never wanted you to believe anything at all.
The palace of the Atreides stood majestically between rocky mountains, with the golden sunlight falling beautifully on the grayish stone walls, bringing in a warm afternoon. Rising magnificently behind your back, standing like a rocky guardian.
Your gaze was on Feyd-Rautha as you walked together along the outskirts balconies of the castle, your greenish dress swaying in the sea breeze, as did your hair, which you wore unusually loose that day, the sweet smell of it had him crazy.
“Do you like it?” You asked him after a few moments of silence, with a hint of a smile that Feyd noticed as he turned to look at you, noticing as well how you waited expectantly for his opinion of your home, which he knew you always held close to your heart.
After a second, he nodded his head, looking at you intently. “I do.”
His blue eyes, which looked as clear as ever under the natural glow of the place followed you as you walked beside him, keeping himself close to you, he could feel the natural warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your scent.
It was the first time you saw his eyes showing their true color, for back in his home, they rarely reflected so much brightness and his orbs glowed so beautifully in the sunlight. They possessed the most beautiful shade of blue, reminding you of the ocean, of home.
“It's nothing like my home.” Feyd-Rautha added in a more amused, lighter tone of voice, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, lowering his gaze to the ground, noting how the grass softened each of his steps on it.
“Obviously. Caladan is everything that Giedi Prime and Arrakis are not.” You answered him, snorting the words out with a soft chuckle that was carried away by the wind, turning your head to look at him once you stopped at the edge of a greenish cliff after descending one of the many rocky staircases that rose up through the hills.
The sea stretched into the immensity of the horizon and the water was uncommonly calm, waves lapping the shore relentlessly. It was a calm and peaceful scene out there, quite the opposite of what you felt inside, as you felt a tempest of emotions raging in your soul.
“Have you been with someone else like this?”
There was another one of your little questions again.
And he pondered the answer, dragging his eyes as blue as the ocean itself in front of them, back to you.
But Feyd-Rautha was rather certain that you already knew the answer, that you already had it, you could tell by the way he looked at you and the way he addressed you. Because it was enough to be clear that he had never been this way with anyone before, he had never spoken to anyone like this and he had never been so pleased to be in someone's company, basically in his entire life.
“The only people I've ever had this close to me are my family or my enemies, neither of whom I think entertain my presence very much.” Was his reply, honest and respectful. His husky voice, in contrast to the graceful sea breeze was a pleasant and comforting noise to you.
His words were masked with a touch of amusement, as he used to do in the last days when he spoke to you, it seemed as if you brought back that inner child he had, a stranger who felt increasingly closer.
But even using that tone, his eyes told you that he was not lying, that he was giving you the pure truth.
Yet, somehow you were not satisfied with his response. And he knew it.
“Have you been with other women?”
Feyd drew in a breath, half-opening his lips, air hissing between his teeth.
“So I'm assuming you've heard about the rumors about me?”
And there he was, answering you with another question to challenge you back, to play with your head as he had grown to love to do during the short time you had been in each other's company. Your conversations always ended up being a game of back and forth, a game of a tension that would be cut with the least sharp blade.
“My future wife likes to guide what she believes by mere rumors?” He pressed further.
And as always, you exhaled the air held inside you, twisting your head slightly, looking at him with incredulous eyes. “These are not rumors, Feyd —I've seen it.”
His blue eyes narrowed as he walked closer to you, expression both intrigued and yet defiant. “What do you mean you've seen it? Don't play games with me now, woman.”
“Don't threaten me, man,” You squinted your eyes as you pronounced the word like poison, almost coming out like an insult. “I'm not afraid of you.” With your own response to his defiance, this immediately silenced him, stopping him in his tracks right in front of you, as you stepped closer to him, your presence growing menacing now. You were really upset. “Do you think that when I marry you I will allow you to go on screwing around with them?”
“You met them and they threatened you?” Feyd asked in a low tone, maintaining a calm demeanor, though he wanted to know if any of his concubines had dared to even glance at you during your stay at Giedi Prime. His orbs reflected a sensation that ranged to a murderous, bloodthirsty urge, not at you, but at anyone who was stupid enough to threaten you. “Tell me, did they say anything to you?”
You crooked your head very slightly, looking genuinely offended by his questioning.
“Do you think I would allow any of your concubines —anyone at all— to threaten me and go on with their lives?” You replied instantly, looking him up and holding his gaze, as brave as ever. You seemed to be the only one in the whole universe who dared to answer him and put him in his place. And he was loving it, he felt the desire to be broken by you, to let you destroy all his walls and reach his soul. “They'd already be dead if they did.”
An amused grimace twisted his lips, gaze darkening with pride, desire even, approving of your words, feeling suddenly small under the vastness of your aura, dark and menacing now.
“Don't worry about them.” His words sounded humorous this time, just as his fingers laced between yours, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, an attempt to reassure you. “Soon I'll be all yours, sweet girl.”
You frowned your brow slightly, as did your lips, still looking offended. He squinted his eyes, hissing as he realized he had said the wrong thing, yet again.
“I'm not sweet.” Your hand released his, your annoyance rising with the seconds. “I'm not one of your pets you can treat as sweet, Feyd-Rautha.”
He raised his brow, following you with his gaze, puzzled, as you turned around and began to walk back to the palace, turning your back on him and leaving him to talk alone.
“One of my pets?” He questioned, with that amused grimace plastered on his mouth again, as he began to follow your hurried footsteps, his pale face reflected a blend of frustration and irritation. “Do you think I would treat you like one of my pets?”
His voice sounded so husky and frustrated and delicious that you felt like just stopping and jumping on him right there. But your own self-respect and pride were more important, you wanted to believe.
Seeing that you weren't planning to stop, Feyd tried to stop you by grabbing your arm, but his hand remained over your smooth skin, with no major result in trying to calm you down, so he cleared his voice, making the attempt to be as cautious and reassuring with his words.
“I think you must understand that desire and lust is something we all possess, my lady, not just men.”
He was physically relieved when you stopped to be able to look at him, with his hand lingering on your forearm.
But your eyes were still dark with discomfort when they met his once again. “I won't be one of your girls, Feyd-Rautha.”
His lips parted, brow furrowing slightly, his voice kept low. “(Y/N)—”
He stood right there, utterly speechless, with his voice caught in his throat, watching you walk away from him, striding with steps that exuded pure anger up to your rocky palace. His hand dropped from your arm and returned to his side, now far from your warmth and heartbeat.
It took Feyd-Rautha a couple of minutes to pull himself together, sighing heavily, a small smirk curving his lips as he began to walk the path back to the Atreides' palace.
He was absolutely thrilled to discover this side of you that he hadn't previously seen. You were truly frightening and he was loving it.
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By the time the moon was bright in the center of the dark sky, shining through the thickness of black, a pair of soft knocks sounded against your chamber door and you didn't have to use any hint of your skills to know who it was.
He looked at you with those now dark blue eyes from across the threshold, arm resting lightly against the grayish stone. He looked strangely troubled, look shadowed.
“Have you always been such a perfect seductress?”Feyd asked you just as you made a questioning gesture with your head. “How many men have you seduced like this?”
You looked him up with doubting eyes, frown slightly furrowed. “What are you talking about—”
He interrupted you in a scratchy voice, fearing somehow, that someone else might hear him, that someone else might witness how desperately vulnerable he was being, for you.
“You've broken me. All I can think about is you.”
Feyd took one step forward and you one step back, so you two moved as if you were in a kind of dance until he eventually entered your chambers, pulling the door shut behind him.
“I can't handle not touching you. It's a rule I'm on the brink of breaking for you.” He whispered and your breath caught in your throat, exhaling air in a stuttering gasp. “And I should— I'm expected to be a gentleman. I'm supposed to behave myself, keep my composure. But you… you are driving me crazy, woman, you play with my head, you've bewitched me.”
You could really see that he was trying to explain himself for you, attempting to articulate everything that was going through his head and you knew that it was very unusual for him to speak out loud about his feelings. And now, you were the one who couldn't say anything at all.
It was true, the most important rule your mother had emphasized to you was that you were not to get involved sexually, or in any way with your betrothed, until the very day of the actual wedding, as that particular night was meant to be consumed.
“Y—you shouldn't be here, my lord.” You managed to utter out after a few hesitant stutters, feeling your back brush against the wall and having him in front of you, trapping you against his body. He seemed to be struggling against his body, against his desire and instinct, hesitant hands twitching at his sides, nearly reaching out instinctively for your body.
“You were so bold back there talking back to me, what happened now? Aw, what happened, pretty?” He asked in a more teasing tone of voice, holding your gaze. “We could put that mouth of yours to good use then, hm?”
“My lord—”
“Call me by name.” He demanded, he begged you, whispering.
“Feyd...” You named him so obediently that it made him smile darkly to himself. “Someone might listen.”
“Are you afraid that someone will find out that two people who are getting married desired each other?” Feyd asked, half-closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose, as if trying to compose himself, trying to convince himself more than you. “There is nothing wrong for a husband to crave for his wife, right?”
You gulped, and his eyes instantly landed on your throat, watching as bone and muscle moved beneath the flesh, his tongue twitched, aching with all his will to be able to just lick the skin of your neck.
“I guess not.” Your voice trembled even when you were trying extra hard to sound confident and certain. “But we are not yet husband and wife.”
“Soon...” Feyd muttered, almost as if he was making a promise, uttering a vow.
His eyes closed as he finally rested his forehead against yours and suddenly, you were breathing from the same air. His trembling breath was warm against your lips and his scent was everything you could have ever craved... and it felt so familiar that your soul seemed to shudder, like something you had smelled all your life, something that had haunted you even in dreams, forever present but yet always so far distant.
“Can I touch you?” Feyd breathed out against your mouth after a few moments.
You didn't answer him verbally, instead you slowly took his hands between yours, fingers placing them in parallel against his, allowing you to feel every inch of the imprint drawn on his fingertips as you dragged yours across his palm, both feeling the size difference.
Then, you rested his big, calloused hands on your waist, allowing him to touch and hold you as much as he wanted and to permit him to do so, a single sight on your eyes was all it took.
He hissed as his hands molded the curve of your waist and instantly afterward drew you into his body, pulling you fully against the wall behind you. Your back arched instinctively and you gasped too, so softly, your chest pressed against his with the motion.
“Touch me.” Feyd-Rautha pleaded, he had never pleaded so... desperately for anything ever in his life.
That was your allowance for your hands reaching for his body, out of control, one making a slow path up through his strong arms while the other rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palm, beating echoing your own. Your fingertips gently patted his muscles, recognizing his skin and his body. You got the abrupt urge to claim it as yours. To claim him.
You felt yourself blushing at all the overly imaginative and lustful images of him invading your head.
His nose brushed against yours, nuzzling it affectionately, still without opening his eyes, as if he were in some kind of dream from which he didn't want to wake up. His fingers caressed your belly, tracing a slow caress across your entire abdomen upward, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you against him.
His touch triggered an immediate reaction across your flesh, skin shivering under his fingers.
Feyd whispered your name like a prayer, like a thirsty man, crawling and screaming for water.
“I'm trying to be good...”
“Don't be.” You whispered back, almost begging, looking up at him, gaze meeting his once he opened his eyes. “Please, Feyd—”
Then finally his lips landed on yours, initiating a kiss that you both craved so much, maybe he more than you for the way he brought you close to him, almost possessively, like a mad man, almost as if he was imprinting his mark on you, marking you for whoever had the courage to look at you.
He let himself sink in the way your lips fit against yours, in the warmth your body offered him, in the all too familiar sensation he could sense in every single fiber of his core from the kiss, your kiss.
Feyd-Rautha felt like a roaring beast just unleashed, ruthless and insatiable, just like when he walked into the arena, eager to kill, rooting against his opponents —and now he was rooting for you, to be near you, to intertwine his soul with yours, to claim you as his own.
And claiming you he was, his scent covered you all over now, making you feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, throbbing crotch, blood seething like an infernal flare. Anyone who came near you would not only smell you, but him too, on every inch of your body. His hands roamed just under your breasts, rubbing across your ribcage and sliding down your back, fingers just barely grazing your ass, pressing you tightly against him in desperation, grasping and squeezing as much of your tender flesh as they could.
Your own palms roamed up his chest, caressing his broad shoulders, all the way up to his neck, tugging him closer to you in desperate motions, impossibly close.
When your bodies begged for oxygen, you broke the passionate kiss, leaving you both breathless. He kissed you once more, allowing you to breathe just for a few seconds before all you breathed was him. He wanted to become your oxygen, something indispensable to you, something you needed to live with, a necessity.
“You're the only one.” Feyd-Rautha mumbled out as his hot and soft lips trailed down a wet path all the way to your neck, tracing the line of your jaw with sloppy kisses, each time his lips pulled back from your skin a wet noise echoed and filled the room, making you gasp.
You could feel the way his lips were modulating each word against your skin, as if using a language so intimate and so tight that it took your breath away. A language known and used just between the two of you.
With desirous eyes he looked at the dark crimson mark he'd left on your throat before raising them across your flushed face, his hands cradling your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin tenderly.
“When my uncle gave me the announcement that I was to marry you, I kicked them all out.” He continued to explain, pecking your lips a couple of times before kissing each cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, every single feature of your entire face, with the utmost care and adoration.
No one had ever looked at you the way he was looking at you right now.
Feyd rasped out a small chuckle, breath warm tickling against your nose. “And by kicking them out I mean I killed them.”
His comment didn't surprise you at all, in fact, it didn't even provoke a reaction in you. During the week you had been in his company, you had already gotten used to Feyd-Rautha's -almost cruel- honesty and sassy remarks, you were just starting to get used to his very eccentric and unique attitude. Because the na-Baron's personality was something that was most captivating to you, he was so different yet so similar to you.
“Of course.” You replied, trying to hold back that dark grin on your lips, an action that caused him to kiss you once more, his attention was on your mouth the whole time as you spoke to him in that tone of voice. “I would expect nothing less from the Feyd-Rautha and for my future husband.”
Again he rested his forehead against yours and you were the one who kissed his lips this time. It had become a reassuring habit in a span of less than five minutes for both of you.
“I can't do anything to you until we get married, my uncle would find out otherwise. I have —we have— to behave, my love.”
He seemed to read your mind this time, or maybe it was the way you were looking at him, biting your lower lip gently, eyes darkened with desire, silently begging him to just take you right there against the wall when he called like that.
Perhaps Feyd-Rautha was a hopeless romantic just like you or he simply desired you in ways that went beyond mere sex or plain lust.
“Are you afraid of him?” You softly asked him, your fingers stroking the back of his neck, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Your fingertips followed the trail of one of his veins marked on his neck, making him gasp lightly.
“Have you seen him?” Feyd responded with another question, a curved little smile on his lips, his tone of voice directed pure sarcasm. “I don't think I'm in such a position as to challenge the Baron.”
You nodded your head, fingers stroking his cheekbones now, tapping the moles that spread across his face affectionately. “He's terrifying.”
Your heart seemed to melt as you watched him close his eyes and lean against your hand, kissing the palm in action.
“Mhm...” Feyd hummed, watching you attentively, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of amusement.
“Were you seriously jealous of my darlings?”
Your heart seemed to drop to your stomach and burn with your guts as you heard the nickname fall from his mouth.
“Call them that again and I'll cut your throat.” You murmured against his lips, kissing them slowly before pulling away from his body, looking up at him with dark, yet playful eyes, your hand roaming across his chest until it fell to your side as you stepped away. Then you made your way towards your bed with a very slow pace, under the attentive gaze of his azure eyes following every movement of your hips.
His heart —apparently non-existent until then— was pounding like crazy inside his chest as his lips parted, for once again you had left him speechless.
That was living proof that you were simply made for him. And he for you.
And maybe that just meant you were each other's weakness, people would say so.
But he felt just invincible in your presence, as if your company made him behold the whole universe, gave him the power of the all galaxy at hand, making him feel like the only man in existence. Your man.
Feyd-Rautha had never felt so desperate to make you his wife and finally call you his.
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yanderenightmare · 6 months ago
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Gojo Satoru
TW: implied noncon, desperate starved reader, God!Gojo
gn reader
based on this by @hawnks
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He's worshipped, but worship alone doesn’t make those who pray by his shrine his belongings.
Even pets run away when they don't like the food.
He could take lives, which suppose some of his fellow gods might view as ownership, but right when he ran out of places to wash the blood off his hands, he’d sooner found it to be an empty pastime bearing no merit.
After all, taking lives doesn't mean they belong to you—it just means they’re dead. 
He'd come to realize that the power to take is a far cry from the prospect of actually owning something—something he can truly call his. He could level a forest and everything in it, crush mountains to deserts, drink the entire ocean dry—but it wouldn’t make any of it his.
It leaves him feeling stingy when yet another measly human comes before him—on your knees with your forehead bowed in the dirt, skinny hands shaking while laid flat out before you, cracked lips crying his name.
With his chin propped in his palm, he yawns while listening to you, and with jaded eyes, he nearly dismisses you altogether. But there’d been a question he’d been mulling over lately—one that had found its way to the tip of his tongue.
“What do I get in return?”
You’re only asking for very little—one of the humbler humans who still bother praying to him. You might see it as greedy of him to ask you for something in return—a poor soul with nothing but your sorry name. But what you don’t understand is that you and he are the exact same.
Dirt poor.
In many ways, he has it a lot worse. You could die. He could not. Infinity would pan on forever and drag him with it as if with a ball and chain—and he’d remain destitute and alone for the entirety of it all.
Which is why…
“You can have me, I guess…”
It sounded so sweet—like a vow.
You say it with such defeat, as though you’ve already accepted his rejection—as though you’re about to offer yourself to the forest next—as though you're worth nothing more than returning to soil again. 
You don’t notice the new light in his eyes that threatens to swallow you whole, nor do you hear the growl in his gut like a beast awoken from a deep slumber—starved to death if he only could. His tongue swells with sweetness, it nearly runs over and spills down his chin.
Your offer hangs still in the air, poised and waiting for him to grab it, brighter than a star. It nearly frightens him—how much he wants it—how desperately he yearns for it. His fingertips buzz with thrill as he reaches out. He’s never held something like it before—soft and warm and flickering with something fleeting and precious. It almost feels wrong for him to hold it in his blood-soaked hands. Eyes all but blacked out as he looks down at it.
“Mine, you say?” 
You feel it, too, but it’s not close to the same sense of elevation—how he reaches into your chest and scribbles his name on your soul. Each letter is heavier than the last and leaves you curling in on yourself in agony, screaming before you fall silent.
Panting once you look up, you clutch your chest, only to see his sneer gone, replaced by something worse—something haunting.
The regret is palpable. You pick yourself up and take to running away—but by then, it’s too late. You don’t make it more than two steps before something has you tugged right back—this time into his embrace.
“I accept your generous sacrifice, little human.”
His words weigh awfully heavy while you shudder in his lap. His skin is like marble—shimmery and cold as his hands wrap around you, holding you tightly as he puts his lips to your neck.
"I'll take precious care of you..."
You feared he’d bite, but the kisses that commence feel no less like a collar being fastened snug around your throat. As well as his promise—like being sentenced to spend eternity right there, hand-fed under that awful smile on his face.
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♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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msunitedstatesjames · 2 days ago
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I've touched on this in a couple of other semi-related posts before, but I find it hilarious and I appreciate how much Johanna Hezenkoss thinks Emmrich is the protagonist of Veilguard. Like, this woman could not give less of a fuck about Rook. She almost always refers to Rook only by their relationship to Emmrich. She refers to Rook as "one of Volkarin's hangers-on," "that impudent whelp following [Emmrich] around," "Volkarin's companion," and as Emmrich's "paramour." None of these imply that she thinks Rook has much agency. Instead, she acts like Rook is just helplessly following Emmrich around like a puppy, helping him complete tasks (which I guess is partly true).
If Rook romances Emmrich, Hezenkoss assumes that Emmrich seduced Rook and not the other way around, even though Emmrich is noticeably older than Rook and has hardly left the Necropolis in years. She's seemingly amazed by it, and yet it never once crosses her mind that Rook might have initiated the relationship (which is actually the case).
She also refers to Emmrich as the one who destroyed her construct, which is technically true, but she ignores the major assistance he had from Rook, another companion, and most notably Manfred. He couldn't have pulled it off without their help, and had in fact given up, but Hezenkoss acts like Emmrich was her sole opponent in that battle.
I've said before that part of the reason for this is that Hezenkoss seems to think of herself as the main villain of the story, so Emmrich must be the main hero. Hezenkoss says that some of the other big bads of Dragon Age, the Venatori, were nothing more to her than slightly useful and genuinely annoying. She clearly thinks herself above an entire organization of some of the most powerful mages in the world. And she sees Emmrich as pretty close to her in terms of raw power, since she almost invited him to her Vengeance Party but ultimately decided he was too much of a danger to her plans. She also states that she tried to get him to join her in the past, which I don't think she would do for anyone she considered to be less than her equal. Emmrich is genuinely the only person in the game she shows any respect for. Though she mocks his age and finds him to be too sentimental, too moral, and too fearful, she shows signs of agreeing with him on some topics, and she obviously respects his abilities if nothing else. No one else in the game acknowledges his frankly ridiculous knowledge and skill level (except Solas in the end) as much as Hezenkoss does.
And really, Emmrich does have main character energy. Though he does have some age and mortality related fears, dude is overflowing with confidence. When you first meet him, looking for a Fade expert, he has absolutely no problem telling you he's the best possible person for the job. Though he apparently hasn't left the Necropolis in years, he's totally down to join the team and go anywhere you want him to go. If you romance him, he is initially surprised, but he quickly turns into the smoothest dude around, and throughout the game you can hear him comment on some of his many relationships through the years. He's well-dressed, well-spoken, charismatic, highly educated, unfailingly kind, extremely powerful, and he's done so well for himself that Harding mistakes the son of a butcher and a cook for a member of the Nevarran nobility. No wonder Hezenkoss thinks he's the protagonist. The real protagonist is just out here winging it on guts and good luck alone.
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aritsukemo · 29 days ago
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I have a thing for.. | Furin First Year Six
Featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Kyotaro Sugishita, and Taiga Tsugeura
Warnings: Sakura's being Sakura, Reader for Suo's part is heavily implied to be a female/fem-bodied ( they're on their period ), nicknames are thrown around in majority of these ( ex. love, pretty, babe, etc. ), author has only seen the anime as of right now so characters may be a bit ( or very ) ooc! That said, read at your own volition!
A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!! 🎃 I've been obsessed with Windbreaker these past few days and I finally got the inspo to write about it! >.< Thank you @maruflix! Because of them and their amazing fics, I was able to motivate myself enough to get this done. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little scenario thing I put together! 🙈
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The Oblivious Type - Sakura Haruka
A sigh slips from your lips, briefly breaking the tranquil silence that was brought upon you and your boyfriend shortly after your walk home began.
Your half-in-half haired love of your life paid you no mind as it seems that he was in his own world and looking straight ahead without so much as a glance your way. And to that, you found yourself pouting.
You sigh again, this time much louder and much more exasperated, like a bad actor in a play. Alas, it seems the ears attached to that pretty little head of his was all for show.
Guess you have to be more direct.
"I'm kinda hungry," You commented, your head—which was comfortably resting on his shoulder as you walked—tilting upwards some more so that you can better gaze at him. Sakura, at last, looks you way, and as usual, he locks eyes with you only to immediately look away, his face suddenly flushed crimson. You found the corner of your lips beginning to lift at the sight..only for them to fall moments later when Sakura fixes his lips to say, "So what? Why are you tellin' me?"
You could feel a wave of fire building in your chest at his response, yet part of you still had hope for him. And so, you huffed out a small, "Nevermind," waited a bit, and tried again. This time saying, "It's kinda chilly out here, don't you think?"
From this angle, you were able to catch a clear sight of his mismatched-colored brows knit into a split line. His eyes avoid yours and you felt his arm began to move to sling off his jacket.
..Or at least, you thought he was going to give you his jacket. Instead, he moved his arm to scratch the back of his head as he grumbled in that growly voice of his, "If you're cold, you should've brought a jacket or something. It's not my problem."
And that officially set you ablaze beyond recovery. As swiftly as a snap of a finger, your entire demeanor flipped and a deep frown embedded itself on your supple skin.
"Agh! Forget this!" You snatched your arm away roughly, nearly yanking Sakura into you in the process, and began to stomp off while grumbling under your breath about the whole ordeal you created.
"What's your problem?" Sakura shouted after you, his pace speeding up to catch up to you.
"You! You dense dummy!" You yelled back to which the dense dummy in question responded, "Hey! Who you callin' a dummy?!"
A loud groan booms throughout the street, "Just shut up and go away! I'm walking myself home!"
And to this day, Sakura has no idea what happened that evening or why his friends laughed ( or gave him pitying looks ) the next day when he told them about it.
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The Prince Charming Type - Suo Hayato
A drawled whine slips from the damsel in their bed as a wave of pain struck their gut. It was that time of the month yet again, and like always, the first day was kicking their ass—quite literally at times.
After waking up to a crime scene this morning and being forced to strip their bed of it's many sheets along with their pajamas, they had been just about immobilized by abdominal pains. You could imagine how much of a pain it was to force themselves into the shower and make their bed.
And to make a bad situation worse is that they're cravings were through the roof! They wanted everything, soba, chips, chocolate, omurice rice, dorayaki—everything!
Needless to say that you've spent the entire morning curled up in bed trying not to throw up from the sheer pain while dreading your entire existence..and that's when he appeared.
With that suave smile of his, the beauty you had the honor to call your boyfriend—and savior—waltzed in your room with a large bag in hand.
"Morning, love," He cooed in that ever so serene voice of his, "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," You grumbled to which you earned the wonderful melody of his chuckle.
"I figured. I checked the calendar," He said, his implications becoming further clear as he sets the large bag at the edge of your bed and took out—
"My heating pad!" You cried out as your upper half shot up—an action you instantly regretted as your shout vibrated throughout your entire being, further enraging your body along with the sharp movement you just performed and ultimately causing you to keel over on your bed.
"You left it at my house," Suo replied—answering the silent question that started floating in the air after you let out a whiny groan—as he swiftly unraveled it and handed it to you to place on your stomach before plugging it up.
"I also noticed that you ran out of pain medicine so I got you some," He mentioned, before following up with, "Would you like to take some now or after you eat?"
"After I eat?" You parroted, confusion dripping off your words. And, with that gorgeous smile of his serving as your only hint, his hand disappeared into the bag. Returning to the surface shortly after with another smaller bag in tow.
"Is that—?" "Your favorite takeout? Yes, it is," He neared you once again, his free arm coming down to gently help you into a sitting position before swapping hands to place the takeout on your lap and adding, "No need to wonder what's inside, I got your usual."
Gods, what did you do to bag such a man? The thought popped into your head at the same time a smile popped onto your face and your hand began eagerly digging in the bag like a starved man.
"Where would I be without you..?" You mumbled before popping the first bite of your food in your mouth, your rough movements causing a bit of sauce to splatter across the corner of your mouth, making you look rather..unladylike. Not that you've been exactly the classiest person today.
Regardless of your appearance, Suo looked at you as if you were the one who created the word beautiful, gazing at you oh so lovingly as he took a napkin from your bag and used it to gently swipe the stain away. And, despite your rather rhetorical utterance, Suo answers your earlier question with a teasing, "Probably still curled up in pain and whining like some hurt little kitten."
You hum in agreement, mouth having already been stuffed with another large bite of food as relief began to surface at the heat that finally enveloped your stomach.
"I'll go and throw your bloody sheets and clothes in the washing machine," He said, leaving a chaste kiss atop your head before spinning on his heel.
"How did you know—" "Just had a feeling," He shushed, smoothly putting the topic to rest as he disappeared into your hallway..only to immediately poke his head back in the doorway.
"Oh, and when I get back, I'll be all yours," He said, "We can watch your favorite cartoons if you'd like."
And like a little kid, you beam, "Yes please!" Gods do you wish you could give a thank you kiss to whoever raised this glorious man!
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The Romantic Type - Mitsuki Kiryu
As soon as you got home, Kiryu wrapped up the game he was playing rather quickly—despite having been so invested in it moments prior—and went to your side on you guys' favorite beanbag chair.
Like the cat he was, he curled up to you—who had immediately leaned against him upon him sitting down—and caged you with his arms, which was practically a blanket from how baggy the cloth that surrounded them were..
"How was your day, beautiful..?" He hummed lightly in your ear, his chin resting against your shoulder—which he noticed was quite stiff, but didn't comment on it.
A raspy sigh leaves your lips, one filled with nothing but frustration, "Rough," Was all you told him and his hand was already trailing over to rub at your side, the other entangling itself in the hand closest to it.
"Wanna talk about? Or, do you want to just skip to the part where I make you feel better?" He asks, his question coming off as a silent invitation as he started placing kisses along your shoulder blade, saying in between pecks, "Doing both is also an option. I'm really good at multi-tasking."
And in a matter of a minute, he already had you giggling like a some lovestruck schoolgirl. The burning irritation and headache from the earlier events that occurred was still there nonetheless.
"Whichever you want to do.. I don't really care I just..want to stay like this for as long as possible," You told him, and with a hum of confirmation from him, he begins to shift.
He moves you to one leg, his hand leaving yours and trailing up your arm, your shoulder, until it reaches your jawline where he stops to gently push it in his direction. Your head softly rolled, and the moment the two of you locked eyes, his lips were on your skin.
He started up high; his lips connecting with your temple where he could feel the vein angrily pulsating. He then kisses down your face..
"Sorry you had such a bad day, pretty.." He said in a hushed tone, his lashes tickling your skin as his lips took the time to cover the entirety of your cheek in little pecks before moving to plant a kiss to your nose.
"If I could, I'd take all this irritation and pain from your cute little head," He moves to your other cheek, leaving kisses as best he can from the angle he's at before moving over to your jaw, his hands rubbing firm circles into your lower back, firmly palming and messaging at the tensing muscle, "Since I can't though, I'll just make you feel better some other way."
"We could play a game," He suggests, his assault on your flustered face pausing so he can look you in the eye, "I can cook you a meal..or would you prefer it if I ordered aomething instead? That way, we can snuggle like this and you can take your anger out on something."
You hum. Truth be told, you had stopped processing his words as soon as he left the first kiss on your skin. That said, at the cool call of your name, you dumbly responded with a dreamy-sorta-sounding sigh..which went straight to his heart.
Honestly, if he was able to bring himself to move his hands away from you, he'd take out his phone, snap a picture, and add it to his collection of other saved pictures of you.
"Nevermind," He chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your lips at last, his lips trembling against yours from his attempt at trying to conceal his laughter, "Let's just make out, yeah? We can think later.."
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The Idiot In Love Type - Akihiko Nirei
Joyous giggles burst from cherry-colored lips, it's buoyancy and airiness serving as a stark contrast to the dull, loud chatter that fills the background. It was like music to his ears. Like an angel singing or a siren's call.
Regardless of what it reminded him of, he'd be put under the same spell over and over nevertheless.
It was, at last, the end of the week which meant that it was finally time for you and Nirei's biweekly date night. This time around, you wanted to treat Nirei to something extra special..and what better way to treat your man than to take him out to a fancy restuarant?
It took a minute to walk all the way here in the outfit you were wearing, but it was worth every blister and every dime! The staff has given the two of you nothing but ten star quality service and the food is to die for!
..Alas, you couldn't help but think this was a mistake. Quickly into the night, your adorable boyfriend had been struck silent for reasons unknown and had simply been staring at you. To avoid awkward tension from arising, you've been rambling on about your week only to get a couple of hums and nods from him.
You knew a scene like this one wasn't exactly Nirei's cup of tea, but you didn't think he'd be this turned off by the atmosphere..
And so, after having your fork between your teeth for so long that you're sure you left a permenant dent in the shape of your teeth in it, you set it atop your plate and called Nirei's name. He hums as he's been doing for the past hour now and it makes your lips quirk down along with your brows.
"Hey, Nirei. Are you..enjoying yourself?" You asked, and as if he was snapped out of a spell by the sweet symphony of your voice, he blinks and his mouth falls open to let out a stammering, "H- Huh?"
"You don't have to lie," You reassure, but your tone sounds more and more defeated with every word you utter. And your face..it reminds Nirei of a sad kitten and it's causing his heart to ache, "I can call a waiter over and we can leave."
"What are you saying?" He asks, his face giving away the genuine bewilderment he feels towards your sudden exclamation, "Why would we leave? We only just got our food.. I- Is something wrong?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" And that furthers his growing panic as he stutters out, "Wh- What do you mean?" And thankfully, you notice his sudden distress to which you reach your hand across the table cloth—being careful to avoid his glass—as you offer your open palm to him.
And without hesitation, he latches his hand onto yours, allowing you to curl your fingers around the edge of his hand while your thumb strokes the supple skin.
"It's nothing you did, hun'," You reassured, "I just noticed that you seemed a little..distant this evening. You haven't talked much at all and you've just been staring and—" You sigh softly, pausing for a moment to collect yourself. Nirei waits, not saying a word the entire time.
"..I just.. I just assumed that you don't like it here..and that's completely okay by the way! There's always the next date, right?"
"What are you talking about?" He says, his brows frowning impossibly deeper into his freckled skin, "I love this, really! I'm having a great time!"
And this time, you're the one giving him confusing glances and making sounds, asking, "I'm serious Nirei, you don't have to lie to me It's okay if you're uncomfortable! I could tell.. You were really quiet and staring like you were.."
And without hesitation, Nirei blurts out, "Well that's because I think you're really pretty." And a curtain of silence as cast over your table.
Well, it did for a moment. Once Nirei actually processed what he said, he let out a small squeak and slapped his hand over his mouth, looking absolutely mortified at the face of your gentle, awestruck expression.
"I- I'm sorry I probably shouldn't have said that I mean it's true that you're really pretty but now probably wasn't the best time to say that and I'm so so sorry if I creeped you out or—" "Is that why you were acting like that?"
"Huh? ..Well, yeah..I- I guess you could say that.." He bumbles like an idiot as his eyes drink in your every micro expression. The slight twitch of the inner corners of your brows, your trembling lips, the growing stain of red beginning at the tip of your ears which is only noticeable after you pushed some strands of your hair back and scratched at your cheek..
You should be apart of a painting in a museum. It'd be an honor to be the painter of such a piece..though, he doesn't believe he'd be able to capture your radiance like other, far more skilled people probably could.
And before he knew it, he was mumbling nonsense, "I find you appealing in every way. From your smile to your laugh to your marks and blemishes.. Everything about you is so alluring that I just..get lost in thought about it, y'know?"
And you were struck silent once again. Before his regret causes him to shoot out a bazillion apologies per minute, however, you recover and slowly bring his hand up to your face. Nirei watches with flushed cheeks as you place a bashful kiss to his knuckles.
"My sweet prince..'had me worried for a second.." You mumbled against his skin, letting his hand go as you let out a breathy chuckle and your own hands come up to cover part of your face, "Now I feel silly.."
And just like that, he was under your spell once again, never to break out of it until your eyes reluctantly released him later that evening..
He's not complaining.
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The Quiet Chivalric Type - Kyotaro Sugishita
A stuttering breath slips through your chattering teeth as a rather strong, chilling wind nicks at your skin and blows through your hair.
This was the last time you were ever going to listen to your tv.
You see, that morning you had a bit of a dilemma; you had no idea what you wanted to wear today. Usually you'd just throw something on, but since your boyfriend decided he wanted to spend the entire day out with you, you wanted to dress up for him.
It wasn't the best decision you've made, but you decided to consult in someone you thought would never lie to you; the weatherman. He said, and you quote, "It'll be warm throughout the day with low chances of showers!"
Turns out he was full of shit. As the day went on, the sky began to gray and cloud little by little, until, guess what, it. freaking. rained! Not a few droplets either, it was literally pouring buckets for, like, an hour!
And now, you walk alongside your boyfriend, your cute summer-theme outfit thoroughly drenched, your arms caged around your chest, and you shivering and shaking like a leaf.
If you get sick you swear to the gods above you'll—!
Dampened warmth suddenly spreads around your being. It was like the sun had given you a hug or more like you had been enveloped in blankets after a nice, long shower; complete heaven on earth. What's more is that this warmth has a scent to it. A rather pleasant aroma that reminds you of..
Your eyes drift, widening at the sight of Sugishita now stripped down to his gray tee, his Bofurin jacket—the symbol that stood for all that he idolizes—now draped over your shoulder.
"'What are you doing? You got soaked too. At this rate, you'll get sick.." Despite your protests, your grip on his jacket only tightened, your finger fiddling with one of the buttons. And like your body, it seemed that your boyfriend was just as unwilling to accept the jacket back, a semi-loud, gruff huff slipping through the thin opening his lips parted to create.
And at the face of such stubborn kindness, who are you to refuse?
With a smile beginning to form on your face, you lower your arms from your chest, one hand quickly coming up to cover your exposed body with the jacket while the other reached for his hand..
"You're a lifesaver, 'Taro. Thanks for this," You told him, stopping the two of you momentarily so that you can plant a quick kiss to his cheek before continuing your journey home once again.
..And as you predicted, your poor boyfriend had caught a real bad cold overnight and was bedridden with a fever by morning. You felt absolutely horrible as you tended to him with his freshly washed jacket hanging off your arms..
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The Athletic Golden Retriever Type - Taiga Tsugeura
"Ninety six... Ninety seven..." Loud shouts resonate throughout the cozy little living room, it's volume shaking the liquid of all drinks in the vicinity. One is sure that if it wasn't for the furniture being as sturdy as it was, the boom of his voice would rattle them to the point of collapsing.
All that's to say that you didn't mind the noise. As you sat comfortably crisscross on your favorite seat—which so happened to be your boyfriend's back side—your eyes were trained on your phone, eyes following every movement the dancers on the tiny screen made as their voices were blasted along with a catchy tune throughout your bulky headphones.
Even with such deafening noise surrounding your earlobes, you still gave a part of your attention to the man, who was currently pushing you up and down as if you were a mere dumbbell, below you. That said, through the music, you were still able to hear the gruff yell of Tsugeura as he yells, "Ninety nine... One hundred!"
As he eased himself to the ground for the nth time that day, you released him of your weight by sliding off his back and onto your furry rug. You then immediately reached to flick your headphones off your ears—ignoring the fact that your music was so loud that you could still hear the music as clear as day despite the headphones no longer being on your ears—before your hand closest to him came up to ruffle his hair.
"Good job, baby," You praised, "Want your protein shake now?" And to that your boyfriend nods his head up and down like some excitable pup to which you gingerly awarded him with the banana-flavored protein shake.
As he sat up and began gulping down his already half-drunken drink, you watch in silence. Patiently waiting for him to finish his treat before speaking again.
"Is that all for your afternoon workout?" You asked him to which your boyfriend loudly responded, "Yeah! Thanks for the help, babe! The extra weight really did the trick!"
"Am I really that heavy?" You questioned, beginning to frown at the thought. You were never one to exactly care about your weight, but to be so heavy that your buff ass partner likes to use you as a giant weight is a little..
Tsugeura blinks, looking rather bemused as he replies, "Not at all! You're practically a feather!" And despite the sheer amount of confidence in his words, you found yourself skeptical.
"Then if I'm so light, why make me do all of this? I mean, you make me sit on you while you do push ups and I sit on your shoulders when you do your squats," You mentioned and without missing a beat, he says with a big grin plastering itself on his face, "Well, it gives me the excuse to spend time with you!"
You freeze, and as his words process in your head, you feel your face grow warmer and warmer. It seems your boyfriend noticed it, but didn't understand why you were suddenly so abash. That said, he tilts his head to the side as he stares at you.
You're sure that if he had ears, they'd be flopping to the side along with his head. It'd truly be an adorable sight.
"Hey, what's wrong? Why'd you suddenly go silent? You're turning all red too."
"It's nothing. I was just..thinking about some stuff."
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Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx
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rileyslibrary · 1 year ago
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Imagine Ghost genuinely caring about you but struggling to offer comfort when you’re sad.
He senses that something’s bothering you but can’t figure out what. Not only that, but he doesn’t know how to handle such things in a delicate manner.
He tries to get you to open up in his own way, though. He cracks a couple of jokes, to which you manage to smile—they weren’t very good—but that frown doesn’t disappear. He even mentions that you seem “gutted”, a comment you brush off, insisting that you’re—you guessed it—“fine.”
He weighs his options and considers asking you what’s wrong, yet he’s afraid this will result in either a dismissive “nothing” or an overwhelming flood of emotions he isn’t prepared to handle.
He even thinks of jokingly telling you to “stop being a downer,” but he predicts that such a remark would backfire, and rightfully so.
He doesn’t like prying into people’s personal lives. He hates it when others do that to him. And he can’t just openly hug you and reassure you that everything will be okay. That’s not how he operates. He wants to identify the problem so he can target it and provide you with a solution. He wants to help you, not just soothe you.
And then one day, he passes you while you’re sitting on the staircase, taking a break. He nods at you and heads straight to Price.
He starts vaguely expressing his concern about you. Price, on the other hand, wants specifics about the problem, but Ghost doesn’t have any because he never asked. All he knows is that you’ve been sad for quite a while, and he can’t bear to see you that way. But, instead of saying that to Price, he takes a different approach. He begins reporting your “misdeeds,” implying something is wrong with you.
“They barely fulfil their duties; they skipped training yesterday, and all they do in their spare time is sit somewhere, holding their head like this,” he explains, mimicking the stance he saw you in earlier.
Price asks if you’re slacking off, which could cause problems given your responsibilities. Ghost replies with a firm “negative; they are pretty attentive. They’re just not jolly about it.”
And Price looks at him, puzzled, like, “Jolly? What do you mean, jolly? Nobody is jolly while performing routine tasks.”
Ghost starts to get agitated and urges Price to take action. Price, for his part, picks up on Ghost’s concerns and agrees to speak with you.
However, Ghost has two conditions.
“Don’t tell them who reported it, and please let me know what’s bothering them. You know, so that I can take the necessary actions.”
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talesof-old · 8 months ago
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breaking | j.p.
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pairing(s): james potter x gn!reader
warning(s): angst, breakups, leaving long term relationships, implied unfaithfulness (james doesn’t actually cheat), other woman lily evans, reader deserves better, idk this isn’t proofread or edited, they could never make me hate you lily
word count: 1.2k
a/n: sorry this took me so long, i’ve been teaching myself to crochet and i’m also trying to leave my current job
masterlist
james potter + relationship breakup + no happy ending
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It used to be easy, saying James Potter was the best boyfriend you’d ever had.
He’d gone out of his way to shower you in affection and prove himself a capable partner. He’d remembered every important date, what your favorite things were, and why you hated the things you hated. James had been perfect.
You leaned back in your chair. Pieces of parchment littered the desktop, ink staining the expensive wood. You’d given up on caring. A glance at the clock on the wall gave you the time.
22:15.
You huffed. Date night, James had said, like that would fix whatever this was.
This, really, was a wedge driven in unknowingly by one Miss Lily Evans. You couldn’t blame her, really. If you’d asked, she would back away from her friendship with James and be perfectly content. That’s what made it so hard to hate her. She liked you, and would do anything to maintain your friendship.
Instead, like a fool, you’d believed James when he said he’d be home early to have dinner with you. After an hour had passed you’d changed out of your nice clothes and into a pair of pajamas, choosing to work to pass the time. About twenty minutes later, you heard the front door open.
In shuffled a weary James, glasses askew and hair messy. Your heart clenched. Here stood the boy (now man) you’d given your heart to years ago. Here he was, breaking it.
“Hey.” Your voice filled the dimly light room, echoing in the bare corners like some evil spirit.
He looked up at you, eyes blinking owlishly as he tugged off his shoes. It took just a second for the image of you to register. His lips twisted into a guilty grimace, though you weren’t sure he was genuinely regretful.
As he approached, you were hit with a wave of floral and ink perfume. You sighed. Lily’s perfume, which she’d found sometime during your time at Hogwarts and stuck to, was far from unfamiliar. It suited her beautifully, though currently it clung to your skin like aa unwanted disease.
“I’m sorry, we got caught up at the pub.” You nodded. The boys night Sirius had proposed. To forget everything going on for one night. Perhaps you should’ve told James just to stay at your friends’ flat tonight instead.
“We had plans.” Your voice wavered, the telltale sign of tears burning your throat. James nodded solemnly. He made to reach for you, but seemed to second guess himself as you shied away.
“I’m sorry, honey, but Pads wanted to stay-“
“Okay.” The finality in your tone had him pausing, brow furrowed. You moved then, gathering up your papers as tears pricked at your eyes. The rational part of you knew that you needed to speak up about your feelings in order to make a change, but you also didn’t feel like you should have to. James made plans with you, his partner; surely that was just as important?
“I’m going to bed.”
Defeat swirled in your gut. Tomorrow, you’d call Mary. If she couldn’t give you advice, she’d at least help you pack up your things.
“Honey, please.” Something desperate filled his tone. You clicked your tongue to distract yourself from the heaviness in your chest. James stepped forward.
“I just lost track of time, promise. I’ll make it up to you.” You shook your head. This was the make up. This was the second chance. Not a single bone in your body wanted to give him a third. It wasn’t fair to expect you to continue to shatter your heart just for him. You cared more about yourself than that to let it continue.
“You already made a promise like that James, don’t lie to me.” Irritation flashed across his face.
“I’m not lying.” You huffed, clutching your papers in your hands. You’d leave the ink. He’d probably need it more than you.
“Merlin, You told me that the last time, James. What else am I supposed to believe?” He ran a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t understand.”
An incredulous expression took up residence on your face. You blinked furiously as you looked at him.
“What don’t you understand? You come home to me after missing an apology dinner, smelling like another woman. Lily Evans no less.” Venom laced itself through the words as you spoke them. His jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. Muscles tensed as he took in the anger in your eyes. You didn’t often get angry, not like this.
“Lily is my friend, I won’t let you make me feel like shit for spending time with her.” You threw your hands up in the air. The clock down the hallway ticked away, eating at you as you turned away from him.
“I never asked that of you, don’t you dare put words in my mouth.” Tears finally spilled over your cheeks. He scoffed.
“At least look at me.”
You whirled around, eyes glassy and lip trembling. Frustration rose. Here you were, crying over the loss of a relationship that hadn’t even ended yet. You swiped at the tear tracks.
“Why? I can’t do this anymore James. I love you, really, but it isn’t fair for me to have to keep asking you to occasionally put me first.” James wore an expressionless look as you spoke. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, an unsteadying drum to your own heartache.
“I do. I don’t understand where this is coming from.” A forlorn feeling took root in your stomach. He didn’t understand. Maybe you were fooling yourself, thinking you could work through this one. After everything, it was too much to bear.
“Alright.” He furrowed his dark brows.
“I’ll ask Mary if she can swing by tomorrow and help me pack up my things.” He startled, reaching for you once more. A sob caught in your throat as he gripped your shoulders. The soft florals of Lily’s perfume engulfed you.
“What? No, what are you talking about?”
Something undecipherable had leaked into James’ words, panicked and shaky as he searched your face. All he found was resignation. You were giving up. James shook his head, licking his lips and leaning down to stare directly into your teary eyes.
“You’re leaving me?”
You let out a breathy laugh, humorless and cold as it curled around your ears.
“You spend more time with Lily than me these days. I won’t fight for someone who isn’t doing the same.” You watched as his face fell. His lips parted as though to speak, but no words fell from his lips. You knew he couldn’t defend himself from the truth; at the very least, he couldn’t defend himself from this truth.
You spoke again. “I love you.”
You pried yourself from his tense grasp and made your way back to the bedroom, locking yourself in the bathroom for privacy. After tomorrow, you’d no longer be in a relationship. James would no longer be your boyfriend, and peace would have to be made. You shared too many friends for the opposite to be an option. You sighed, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes to keep the tears at bay.
When did it all go wrong?
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hwaslayer · 2 months ago
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vivrant thing (jwy) | three.
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—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST
—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 
—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader
—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut
—WORD COUNT: 6.6k
—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, dinner w/ yeosang!, feelings are laid out oof, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, a bit more of jiwoo vs. wooyoung, use of pet names (princess, love, baby girl, baby), lots and lots of kissing, making out, mentions of marking, some dry humping, unprotected sex, slow sweet sex??, wooyoung pulls out 🫢
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So, you agree to the dinner with Yeosang but you don't expect how terrible it ends up playing out.
At first, it starts off well.
It felt like dinner wouldn't be so bad, and you enjoyed seeing Yeosang being his usual self from the car ride up to the restaurant. When he pulls into a spot in the parking lot and helps you out of the car, there is a bit of a difference in Yeosang's attitude. He slides his hand into yours as he leads the way into the restaurant and as much as you adore your bestfriend, it feels incredibly unnatural. 
It surely doesn't feel like Wooyoung's, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.
He continues to loosely hold your hand until the host brings you to a table near the back end of the restaurant. You didn't think tonight's dinner would be so fancy, but you were in your business casual attire straight out of work; it ended up working out well in the end. You scoot into the booth, with Yeosang on the other side. He immediately orders a bottle of white wine, which isn't really to your liking as you've learned, but you'll make do with what you have— especially to get through this dinner.
You order appetizers along with your main courses, indulging in good conversation with Yeosang as he tells you work updates and how he's being dragged to this really important meeting over the weekend with the board of directors by his team lead. 
It's all good. It's all fun and casual, until it isn't.
Meanwhile, Jiwoo stops by her brother's apartment to drop off some sushi from his favorite Japanese restaurant. It's her way of saying 'thank you' without actually having to say it out loud.
"What now?" Wooyoung swings his door open to see his sister standing there with a bag of food.
"Hi to you, too." She drops it on his kitchen counter. "Bought you food from Sushi Kashiwa." 
"Aw, just say it." He pretends to pout while she gives him a disgusted look and unties the bag.
"No. Besides, I bought myself some food and am gonna enjoy it right here." She lays out the containers and grabs her own. "My friends decided to leave me out of a very important dinner tonight."
"What are you talking about?" He pops open the lid to his sushi container and wastes no time digging in.
"Y/N went to dinner with Yeosang. I guess to talk about stuff going on between them, I don't know." Wooyoung pauses mid-chew, the statement hitting him right in his gut. He's not sure why he's sad— maybe he's right after all. Maybe this just ended up being a temporary one night thing that would eventually wash away.
Sucks it doesn't necessarily feel that way for Wooyoung.
He can't assume, though. Hopefully, you're talking to Yeosang and giving him the honest 'i think we should just stay friends' talk instead of the 'let's just see where this goes' talk. He'd appreciate the universe if it could give him this one thing; he'll stop running his parents' last nerve and will never look at a booty ever again.
Maybe.
"Oh." Is all Wooyoung says before stuffing another piece into his mouth. "Why would you even be there, Jiwoo? That doesn't concern you."
"Anything with my friends concerns me."
"Let them talk it out without your loud, nosey ass interrupting." She rolls her eyes, scrolling through her phone as she also continues to eat.
"I haven't gotten any new texts from her. I wonder if it's going well. Maybe they're gonna explore this after all."
"Who says?" Wooyoung responds a little too quickly, a little too sharply, for his liking. His sister doesn't seem to catch on, though. That's great.
"I dunno, beats me. I'm just taking all angles into consideration."
"Stop projecting. She seemed to be pretty set on her decision at the party."
"You never know." She says in a sing-song tone that irks Wooyoung a little more than usual this evening. "You're right, though. She is set on her decision. I just hope he takes it well." She sets her phone aside. "Anyway. How'd you like the party?"
"Gotta admit, it was fun."
"You really looked like Y/N's date. I had a few people ask me if you two were dating."
"Uh, I mean I was her date? And why would they ask when I already told them yes?" He jokes, just to push his sister's buttons.
"No way." Jiwoo continues to eat away at her food, texting Hongjoong in the midst of it. "Y/N is too good for you."
"No one is too good for anyone. Don't speak on shit you don't know."
"I know her!"
"And I know her, too!"
"I know her the best." Wooyoung rolls his eyes.
"Still doesn't mean you know everything about her."
"Ew, why are you getting so defensive tonight?" He shakes his head, feeling the irritation within him grow the more Jiwoo presses it. He knows he isn't the best man to walk this Earth, but he also knows he'd be good to you. Good for you. He's been thinking about it a lot and he hates that he is— none of this makes sense to him, but he knows he'd be good.
"Don't you have to go see Hongjoong?"
"Once he's off, yeah." Jiwoo sips on her water. "What're you doing tonight? Getting into more shit with Choi San?"
"No, he's actually visiting his parents."
"Hm." She hums. "No booty call coming over?"
"No. Even if there was, you would not be getting that information." She scoffs.
"Grow up, Wooyoung."
"Grow up, Wooyoung." He mocks her. "Says the one who made the wild claim based off of nothing."
"You're so annoying." She tosses her sushi container into his trash before washing her cup of water. Despite their usual bickering, Jiwoo stays for a bit longer until Hongjoong texts her and lets her know he's finally off of work after putting in some overtime. Jiwoo helps tidy up Wooyoung's space before she's waving goodbye [aka flipping him off] and slamming his door shut. Wooyoung plops back onto his couch with the remainder of his food resting on the coffee table, scrolling through his phone. He goes through your texts, wondering if he should say anything or keep silent. He smiles to himself when he sees the pictures you've passed along from the photographer. He sees you've posted the picture with him on your Instagram and it tugs at his heart because not only do you rarely use Instagram, but you took that opportunity to post your pictures from the party— including the one where you've got your hand resting on his chest while he has an arm around you. He was happy to see you happy and comfortable. Having fun. 
You glowed. 
He'll never forget it.
—OLD TEXTS
you: hi! they uploaded the pics from the party!
you: *sends a group of pics at once*
wooyoung: yo goddamn!? we look good!
wooyoung: you look so pretty. 😍
you: 😀 stop !!
wooyoung: i'm so serious, good LORD. 😮‍💨
you: i'm blocking you.....
wooyoung: woah now, hey i'm kiddddding....
wooyoung: not really! but don't block me! i just can't help it!
you: you're too much 😂
wooyoung: can i post these?
you: go for it!
wooyoung: thank you ☺️
He sighs as he reaches the end of the thread.
He won't say anything. He'll let this unfold as it should, but it doesn't mean he can't be sad about it. Cause he sure as hell is and he's a bit anxious. Hopefully, you'll tell Yeosang the truth. Hopefully, you won't force yourself into anything you don't want or feel uncomfortable with.
As for you, the dinner really takes its turn for the worse after you and Yeosang eat away at your main meals, a pregnant silence falling between you two after a good hour of just talking and yapping away about life. You already knew it was coming at this point, you were just hoping you'd buy a little more time [as if you could put it off even more]. 
"So." He says awkwardly to cut the silence.
"Mhm?"
"Did you really enjoy the party?"
"I did. Did you?"
"Yeah. I just—" He looks at you with his head cocked to the side. "I was just surprised seeing you with Wooyoung." You pause before poking at your pasta and taking a small bite. 
"Oh yeah, it was relatively last minute."
"Jiwoo's plan?"
"Why do you say that? Do you genuinely think Wooyoung wouldn't go with me?" You ask, a little offended at the way he sounds cause even though it was clearly planned and arranged, the insinuation from Yeosang doesn't hurt any less. 
"No, not like that— I'm sorry, it came out of nowhere and caught me off guard. That's all." You cock a brow up. 
"It just happened that way. Wooyoung wanted to go and I wanted to go in the end." Is all you respond with, chugging your second glass of wine before pouring yourself more. You really don't like the taste of this white wine either, but you'll take it cause it's better than sitting here without an ounce of alcohol to push you through. Give you more courage to finish the evening on a decent note, to be honest. "I had a really fun time, regardless."
"I saw." He pauses. "I wish you would've at least told me instead of showing up like that." 
"I'm sorry."
"I think it's time for me to be honest and stop watching from the sidelines because I.. really like you, Y/N." His shoulders droop just as he sets his fork and knife down neatly onto the plate. You take the last bite of your meal before sipping on more wine to wash it down.
"I should have told you, but I didn't want to hurt you. Even if I did tell you, it wouldn't have changed anything."
"It wouldn't? Why wouldn't it have changed anything? I thought we might've had a chance." He's confused. He looks like he was expecting a completely different outcome, and that might've been your fault for not telling him right away. But, the moment is here now and you know you can't push it off any longer.
"No. I just.. I just can't, Yeo. I'm sorry." You barely get yourself to respond out of fear. You knew Yeosang wasn't the type to react— if anything, he'd be the most understanding. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you were still scared. You felt bad. You didn't want to hurt him, and you wanted to avoid this confrontation as much as possible even though you knew you needed to face it sooner than later. "I truthfully think we're good with where we're at, and I don't think we should mess that up. I love the way we are as good friends, bestfriends, and that's how I've always seen us." You can see the disappointment growing on his face every second, but he's trying hard to keep it under wraps while he briefly waves the waitress down for the check.
"C-can I ask? You can be honest." You silently nod. "Is it Wooyoung?" You shake your head.
"It was never about Wooyoung. Just us. Well, me. You're amazing, and you deserve the best. You deserve someone who is sure about you and who will reciprocate those feelings to no end. I'm sorry that I can't be that person, but at the same time, I know I can be your friend just like I always have been. That's what I can give you, and I hope you understand." You tell him softly. "I'm sorry." You repeat, feeling the tears brimming your bottom lids. "I should've opened up earlier. I really hope this doesn't change things between us."
"It won't, but I hope you understand it'll take me some time to move past it. I'm sorry for assuming or for— yeah." He shakes his thoughts away.
"Take all the time you need." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile.
"Anyway." Yeosang signs off on the receipt before tucking his card back into his wallet and standing. "Let's get you home."
"Okay." You shimmy out of the booth to head out of the restaurant. This time, Yeosang doesn't hold your hand. In fact, he trails behind you, keeping at a safe distance. You can immediately see the change— how stiff and awkward he's become. You don't blame him for it; he's hurting and you know he needs his space more than anything. 
You can't wait to get home.
The ride is fucking awful. It's the most quiet you've seen Yeosang. The most closed-off and serious he's ever been towards you. His hand is clutching the wheel tightly, but the music is comforting enough to fill the void. You continue to look out of the passenger's window, keeping to yourself until Yeosang asks about your plans for the rest of the weekend. There isn't much going on for you, so that conversation dies quickly. Luckily for you, Yeosang is about to pull up to your street. He stops the car by your building, shifting the gear to park before helping you out of the car. You give him a small, sympathetic smile before pulling him into a hug— giving his back a gentle rub.
"Sleep well, alright? I'll see you next week."
"You too." With that, he walks off, waiting until you at least unlock and crack your door open. When you get a whiff of your candle that you lit up earlier in the morning, you realize you don't really wanna stay home right now; to sulk, to drown in your thoughts alone, to have to listen to the loudness in a quiet space. So, you shut the door again, head back down the steps and walk to the convenience store nearby. You grab a bottle of yogurt soju, along with your favorite chips and strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar— plopping yourself down onto one of the tables right outside the store. You're quick to crack open the bottle and drink away, also eating away at the chips since you didn't feel incredibly satisfied with the dinner earlier. It might've just been all the emotions and tension in the air, but anywho, the chips and the soju taste better than ever. Sooner or later, you find yourself tipsier, cheeks lit on fire, hands clammy; barely hitting the halfway point with the soju bottle. You lazily scroll through your phone as you begin to eat away at the ice cream bar, revisiting those party pictures.
You wonder what Wooyoung is doing, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.
"Ugh." You whine and pout to yourself, pulling up your texts to see if Jiwoo can come to your rescue. You opted for listing Jiwoo and Wooyoung as Jung 1 and Jung 2 to keep it easy and simple; except, it obviously doesn't work well in this case when you accidentally pull up the text with Jung 2 instead of Jung 1 while you wipe away at the tears that suddenly begin to stream down your cheeks.
you: oof .... that dinner was kinda awful i feel terrible
you: kinda?! not even kinda it WAS awfullll
you: i'm sitting outside of our fav convenience store by my olace
you: eating strawberry cheesecake ice cfream!!
you: jiwooooooo
you: jung 1!!!!
Wooyoung furrows his brows at the constant dinging of his phone, unsure of who the hell could be blowing up his phone right now. He even sits for a minute, wondering if there's anybody he's pissed off in the last few days [besides his sister].
"Hm." He hums when he comes up with nothing, nobody. He picks up the phone and scrolls through the previews, chuckling to himself when he sees your name pop up on the screen. Clearly by accident.
you: jiwoo jung 1 pls help come to my rescue it was not good! idk if yeo n i will be friens still ☹️☹️☹️
wooyoung: sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but this is jung 2. 😙
wooyoung: also i won't hold it against you that i've been slotted as number 2 when i should be number 1 esp after the party. 🫤 but it's cool or whatever......
You squint at the brightness of your phone, slowly eating away at your strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar. You almost drop the damn thing when you realize you've actually been blowing up the wrong phone, horrified it had to be Wooyoung, too.
He must think you're a gem, truly.
He does, though. In a very good, non-sarcastic way.
you: omggg i'm so sorry wooyoung jung 2 ☹️
you: i mean jung 1 technically
wooyoung: lol no worries, don't be sorry. you okay?
you: yes but no?
wooyoung: stay put.
You cock a brow up in confusion, wondering if Wooyoung was telling you to stay put because he was on his way or because he just needed you to get yourself together. You listen anyway, sitting on the little chair outside of the convenience store, silently eating away at your ice cream with your phone lit on your lap. You completely forget about texting Jiwoo amidst all of this, assuming she's busy anyway. The wind is slowly picking up, cooling the tip of your nose and surface of your cheeks— settling the heat from the soju.  You shiver and run a hand down your arm, hoping the wind slows in between its waves. You continue to mindlessly scroll through your phone, even picking up your game of Wordle for the day. Just as you get lost in thought, a car parks in a spot in between your building and the convenience store. You look up as you bite into the last of your ice cream bar, hearing the muffled bass from the music in the car. Wooyoung steps out in a grey hoodie and matching sweats, a black beanie on his head. He approaches you with a small smile with his hands dug deep into his pockets, crouching to your level as he continues to look at you.
"W-Wooyoung." You hiccup as you sit on the bench, setting your trash down next to you. Wooyoung gives you a small smile, thumb wiping away at your tears.
"Wanna tell me why you've been out here eating ice cream alone?" He eyes your snacks of choice. "And.. a half bottle of soju and chips? I thought you had dinner with Yeosang."
"I did, and it was terrible and sad." You sniff. "Well, not the food. I just couldn't enjoy it as much. I even tried to drink that bitter white wine he ordered just to get me through."
"And you're drinking soju now? Really must have been that bad."
"Bad bad." You pout and he laughs.
"I'm sorry." He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze before patting it. "Come on, let's get you home." He stands, holding out his hand. You gladly take it in yours, his thumb swiping over your knuckles in an attempt to try and warm it up. He grabs the soju and the chips in his other, leading the way to your building. He quietly heads up the steps, stepping aside and letting go of your hand to let you open your door. When you step back into the warmth of your studio, you instantly kick off your shoes and slip into your slippers—lighting up your candle to bring more heat into the room.
"I'm gonna set your chips and soju aside." Wooyoung says, tightly tying your chips close so it doesn't get stale before setting your bottle of soju aside in the fridge.
"Thank you." You set your bag down and let out a sigh.
"Glad I was able to get you home safely." He chuckles a bit, jingling his keys in his hand. You don't want Wooyoung to leave, especially after he made the effort to get dressed and come to your rescue.
"Wooyoung?" He cocks a brow up when you turn to face him. "Can you stay?" He takes a moment before he nods, unsure how he could turn you down with you looking up at him that way. 
So innocently. So delicately. Eyes yearning for company you can be comforted with, need to be comforted with.
"Yeah, of course. As long as you're okay with me poking around and making some food." You giggle and nod.
"Go for it." You grab your pajamas. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Feel free to get comfortable and flip through the channels." You turn on the TV for him before shutting yourself within the bathroom walls to shower and get comfy for the evening. 
As you shower and get ready for bed that evening, you hear Wooyoung humming and singing a Blackstreet song to himself in your kitchen. After brushing your teeth, you finish up the last of your skincare routine before heading back outside.
"Finally." Wooyoung turns over his shoulder and quickly scans you from head to toe. "I was getting lonely."
"I didn't even take that long."
"It was long. You and Jiwoo take the longest showers known to man." He frowns a bit, making you giggle to yourself. You plop on your couch, now in your oversized crewneck and pajama pants. You're no longer tipsy, probably a little too sober for your liking especially knowing Wooyoung is in your studio. You do find his company comforting, though. You feel bad he had to come and rescue you, but you'd rather be here than anywhere else after that dinner with Yeosang. You tuck your legs to your chest, flipping through the tv channels only to land on Kiki's Delivery Service. It's already 20 minutes in, but it doesn't bother you knowing the movie so well. Wooyoung is still going through your stash of food, pulling out a bowl of jajangmyeon. While he waits for the hot water to properly cook the noodles, he dices up some pickled radish and some cucumbers, and quickly boils two eggs to perfection. When the noodles are done, he sets everything into the bowl neatly before grabbing a cold water bottle and plopping onto the couch next to you.
"What'd you do today?" You look at him just as he starts digging into the bowl.
"Work. Then Jiwoo came earlier in the night with some food from my favorite Japanese spot."
"Sushi Kashiwa?"
"Aw, you know?" Wooyoung smirks.
"Because Jiwoo has mentioned it one too many times." You chuckle. "That's cute, though."
"She only did it cause she was waiting for Hongjoong to get out of work. And to kiss my ass about the party."
"And because she loves you." He fake shivers.
"Ew. Please don't say that again." He looks at you and you snort. "Want a bite? I made it for us to share in case you were still hungry." He edges his chopsticks your way, watching as you shake your head in response.
"I'm good. Thank you though, Woo."
"Suit yourself, princess. I whipped up a good one." You laugh, settling into the couch as you continue to watch the movie. Wooyoung catches you slipping your sleeves over your palms in his peripherals and although he's pretty warm and cozy in your studio, you must still feel cold. He hurriedly slurps up the remaining of the noodles before gulping the entirety of his water bottle down. He lets out a noise that makes you laugh, kicking his head back in satisfaction. "Damn, that was good."
"Glad you enjoyed." You poke his arm and he smiles. "Is this movie okay with you?"
"Yeah, of course. Can never go wrong with Studio Ghibli movies. Unless, you're down to watch something scary?"
"Never." 
"Why not? I'm here."
"But, whatever scary movie we'll watch, it'll live in my head for the next few days and you won't be here."
"I could be, you just have to call me and I'll come. Like tonight."
"Wooyoung." You pout. "Today's was an accident."
"So, you didn't want me to come? That's funny, cause I didn't see another text from you after I told you to stay put, baby girl." He smirks and you shake your head shyly.
"I'm sorry." You continue to fiddle with your sleeves.
"Don't be. I'm just teasing, I wanted to come."
"Thank you. I needed it." You finally manage to let out as you look at him and scooch a little closer. He gives you a tiny smile before shifting his attention back to the TV, the both of you engaging in small talk about the characters here and there.
At some point, Wooyoung subtly inches in and closes off any gaps, quietly slipping his arm behind you. You silently chuckle to yourself when you see him playing it off, acting as if he hadn't done anything to get closer to you. But, the whole thing feels.. nice. It feels safe. It feels warm. Wooyoung really isn't expecting anything out of this— he is testing the waters to see how comfortable you'd be with him, but that's truly it. That's the intention. Just to make you feel comfortable and better after tonight's dinner. He definitely wasn't expecting you to lean your head against him, snuggling up to him as closely as possible. 
"You okay? Comfortable?" He asks softly. You look up at him and nod, settling back into your position on him.
"Mhm. You're warm." He laughs a bit when he hears that, keeping you close. As the movie continues with the both of you watching silently, you find yourself shifting in your position; arm fully coming around Wooyoung's torso. He doesn't mind one bit. As a matter of fact, he loves that you've gotten comfortable enough to do so.
He drops his arm down from the edge of the couch, holding you from behind as the movie continues to play. He gently rubs at your side before his hand falls to your hips. You feel Wooyoung's hand gently squeeze at it before sneaking right underneath your sweater. You freeze, but more so because you're surprised by his touch— not because you don't want him to be right where he is.
"Are you feeling better?"
"I don't know. I just feel bad." You say, eyes still on the TV ahead while you slowly began to relax in his hold.
"You were honest with him, right?" Wooyoung asks as a simple way to poke for more information and get you to open up about dinner. "Wanna tell me how the dinner went?" He traces faint, soft circles on your bare side.
"I was, and I guess that's why I feel bad. It started off fine. We went to the restaurant and we were talking as we always do. Random topics, jokes, going on about life updates. It went downhill when we got our food. It was quiet for a little bit and I knew he was thinking about what to say or how to say it." You pause. "He asked if I enjoyed the party. I said yes, then he asked if it was Jiwoo's plan." Wooyoung cocks a brow.
"What'd you say?"
"I got kinda defensive." You sigh, leaving out the whole moment of you asking Yeo if he thought Wooyoung wouldn't genuinely go to a party with you. "But anyway, I said you wanted to go.. and so did I. And I had a fun time with you."
"Atta girl." He laughs a bit. "And then?"
"He apologized and said he just wished I told him instead of surprisingly showing up. Then.. he laid it out. Said he had feelings for me and couldn't watch on the sidelines anymore. He felt like there could've been a chance, which was probably my fault for keeping that door open for too long." You sit up and face him, Wooyoung's arm still lazily holding you from behind. "I told him that even if I told him about the party beforehand, it wouldn't have changed anything because I couldn't. I liked us the way we were and that we were good as bestfriends. He deserved someone who was sure of him and who could reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly."
"Then, you didn't do anything wrong, Y/N." You shrug before subconsciously grabbing a piece of lint on Wooyoung's hoodie and flicking it off. 
"He asked something else."
"Which was?"
"He asked if this was about you, a-and I said no." You avoid eye contact and lick your lips out of nervousness. 
"I see." Wooyoung smiles a bit before shifting up in his seat to get closer to you. He leans his cheek onto the palm of his hand, his arm that was behind you is now on the back of the couch— elbow resting on the edge. "Why can't you look at me?" He smirks teasingly.
"I am." You look at him for a minute before shifting your eyes elsewhere in the living room. 
"Was it really not about me, hm?" He hums, brushing the hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear. "You can tell me, love." He tries to pull you closer by the hand, and you let him.
"Can I?" His eyes quickly shift to the way you play around with his fingers.
"Course."
"Maybe it was."
"Just maybe?" He looks at your lips. "You think that's why you feel bad?" Brief pause. "That you might actually have feelings for me and you couldn't tell him that part?"
"Maybe." You repeat, his lips only inches away from yours. "Isn't that kinda silly?"
"No? I still don't think you did anything wrong, Y/N."
"Really, Woo?" There you go asking him so sweetly again. It's at this point when Wooyoung feels like he can no longer contain himself because you're giving him the answer he had been looking for; straight on a silver platter. 
"Mhm. As far as I know, you were honest when it came to him. What's between us is our business and not his." He says, his tone just barely above a whisper. You don't really know what comes over you, maybe you did have a little bit of liquid courage still running through your veins especially cause what happens next catches you slightly off-guard. You're so sure about your feelings for him, but unsure about Wooyoung's and how he even feels. This could all be a game that he plays, something he does with other women even if he says it isn't.
Guess it doesn't matter much right now. Can't, anyways.
Within the next second, you find yourself initiating the first kiss with Wooyoung; a kiss that feels long overdue. You lean forward and press your lips against his own soft, plump lips, quickly pulling back to get ready and apologize—
But, he doesn't let you. 
He chases after you.
He cups your cheeks and brings you back, thumb gently caressing the surface of your cheek. You haven't kissed someone like this in awhile, but with Wooyoung, it feels.. right. 
Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.
He tries to take it slow with you, even when you crawl onto his lap and wrap your arms around him. The kiss becomes more heated, lips bruising from the rising intensity, hunger. Wooyoung slowly slips his tongue in, and hearing a small whimper from you in response only has him gripping your hips harder.
He quickly learns he likes kissing you.
"Been waiting to do this." He says against your lips.
"Have you?" You ask, your tone filled with lust as you continue to peck him with small, repeated kisses.
"Just didn't wanna scare you away."
"You wouldn't have."
"Have to be extra careful with you, baby. You aren't just anybody." The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily that it makes your head tilt back as the desire builds. He continues to hold you close as you slowly roll your hips against him, Wooyoung now kissing your jaw before gently sucking and licking on the surface of your neck;
The column, your throat.
You feel him come to the base and suck a little harder, and you're hoping it doesn't leave much of a mark. If it does, it doesn't fucking matter to you right now— nothing does. Because all you want is for Wooyoung to devour you. To give you everything, to ruin you so good.
"Is this okay? I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with—"
"Keep going, Wooyoung. Please." You cut him off. It takes a second for Wooyoung to register your pleading, that 'please' being the one thing that flips his switch. It's not only a want, but a heavy craving. He's got some sort of eagerness to show you just what you've been missing.
"Hold onto me." He says, lifting you with ease as he carries you over to your bed and plops you onto the mattress. He slowly crawls over you, his warm, large hands now cascading up your sweatshirt. Your breathing hitches when he reaches just above your rib cage, and Wooyoung stops when he feels your body tense in his grip. "You sure you're okay?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, down to your nose, your lips. He looks you in the eye with slight concern, afraid of scaring you. The last thing he wants you to think is that he's purely using you for other reasons— when it's definitely more than that.
Wooyoung wants to show you, in case he's bad at voicing his feelings. Cause he can be, clearly. But, he could at least show you and take care of you properly.
"I am."
"You trust me, yeah?" You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod, continuing to keep contact with Wooyoung. "I'll take care of you as long as you let me."
"I want you to." This time, Wooyoung dips forward to lock you into another deep, fervent kiss. His hands are finally roaming further up; Wooyoung letting out a low groan when he finds out you're braless. His thumb swipes over your hardened nipple, tongues fighting for dominance while your hands are tangled in the ends of his hair. You toss his beanie off just as he starts to tug your crewneck over your head and you follow suit with his hoodie. He nibbles on your jaw just before sucking harshly on the skin of your neck. His hand travels down and slips into your pajama pants, fingers delicately rubbing at your clothed pussy that sends a million jolts down your spine. You twitch in response, and Wooyoung can't help but chuckle against your neck.
"So reactive." He teases.
"It's been awhile, Woo."
"And? That's fine, baby. Told you I'd take good care of you." He raises himself slightly to watch your reaction in real-time. "Does that feel good?" He asks, close to a whisper. 
"Yes." You bite your bottom lip and shut your eyes, sighing in satisfaction.
"God. Can feel how wet you are already." Wooyoung feels himself getting painfully hard against your thigh, imagining how tight you are. He doesn't wanna waste another moment, and he thinks he'll lose it if he isn't inside of you within the next few seconds. "Let's take this off, hm?" He hums, hands already tugging your panties and pajama pants down. "Do you have a condom?"
"Don't need it. I'm on the pill." 
"You're sure? I'm clean, but I'll do whatever you're okay with. Just say the word." He asks again to be extra sure.
"I am, I'm sure." You nod eagerly. The pill was mainly to help regulate your heavy, irregular periods, but you'd say you do appreciate it a little more now for this particular reason.
"You're so hot, jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung doesn't say anything else before he's keenly kissing you again, hastily getting out of his sweats. 
Sooner or later, the rest of Wooyoung's clothes are joining yours on the floor; Wooyoung not wasting any seconds reattaching his lips to yours after slipping them off. 
Wooyoung pauses when he sees you fixed on his length— eyes hazy and full of desire. It's giving Wooyoung the biggest fucking ego boost, but that's not important. He strokes himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. He slowly eases himself in, the both of you letting out lewd moans as you both adjust to the feeling. You're tightly wrapped around him and Wooyoung has to keep his composure as he buries himself deep to the hilt. Wooyoung keeps his pace slow and steady; forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts into you. It's nothing rushed, everything about it is slow— so tender, so careful. 
So safe.
"Wooyoung." You moan his name and his brain short-circuits every time you say it the way you do. On top of that, your little whimpers are doing a number on him, but he's trying to keep it together for awhile longer. 
"Doing so well for me, love." He gently bites your chin just as he slightly picks up his pace. He hovers a bit, lips coming back up to meet you in a sweet kiss. He holds it for a minute longer, tongue swiping over your lips as he rolls his hips into you. 
It's intimate. 
It's deep. 
It's raw. 
It's nothing he'd do to his booty calls, no. Everything about those moments are forced and rushed, the end goal having to nut as quickly as possible and get them the hell out of his space.
With you, he's loving every second. He wants to relish in the way your walls feel around him, wants to relish in the way your fingers thread through his hair, wants to relish in the way you kiss him so slowly, so passionately. Like every kiss holds the answers to the universe and you're afraid you'll miss a single detail.
He rests his nose, lips, against your cheek just as he releases a shaky breath, still taking his time as he works his way with you. He comes down to your neck and leaves feathery pecks against the surface while his body is pressed flushed against yours. He turns his head and you've fully wrapped your arms around him. The pace is perfect, with Wooyoung working his hips in circular motions just to hit you in all the right places. He praises you as you continue to moan for him, pretty little mewls slipping from your lips while he tells you how captivating, how angelic, you are for him.
How perfect you are for him.
You find your hips have a mind of their own, working to match Wooyoung's movements. You feel the pleasure building quick at your core, and you know it won't take long from there.
"Wooyoung— just like that, please—oh my god." You sob. While he continues to expertly thrust into you and keep you close, the friction against him causes the coil within you to snap harshly, nails digging deep into Wooyoung's shoulders while he thrusts harder, a bit rougher, to meet his high. 
"F-fuck, baby. I'm about to—" He moans a little louder when he feels you clench a few times around him from the aftershock, quickly pulling out and releasing onto your pussy and abdomen. "Shit—fuck." He pants, finally coming back down from euphoria to see how mesmerizing you look splayed out beneath him; white ribbons of cum painted on your skin. He's completely enamored by you. "Mm'sorry babygirl, let's get you cleaned up." You giggle and shake your head.
"Please, it's fine. Stop looking, you're making me shy again."
"Don't be. You look beautiful." He laughs, slipping on his boxers. "Let me clean you up." He runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes, doing a light jog to clean you up well. You grab your panties and your crewneck after he's done— throwing them on and snuggling under your covers. You fully expect Wooyoung to get dressed and leave [which would suck], but he doesn't. You quietly watch as he shuts off your TV and the lights, going to the bathroom for a quick wash up. Afterwards, he immediately slips underneath your covers right next to you, pulling you onto his chest.
"You're staying?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckles. "C'mere." He pulls you closer. "Sleepy?"
"Incredibly." He smiles.
"I put in some work, huh?"
"Wooyoung." You pout, lightly smacking his chest.
"I'm just joking." He subtly bites his lip. "Can I have one more kiss before we sleep?" You lean up and peck him on the lips a few times, with Wooyoung holding the last kiss before pulling away. "Goodnight, pretty girl."
"Goodnight." You mumble, falling asleep within seconds as you cuddle snuggly against him. Because with Wooyoung, it feels.. right.
Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.
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—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd
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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months ago
Text
it's not ever what it looks like
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'
rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.
Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.
But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.
Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.
But not daily for over a week.
He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.
And now this article.
There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.
The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?
Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.
Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.
It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.
Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.
He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.
All of them had said mostly the same things:
I can't get ahold of Eddie.
He wouldn't do this.
Something else is going on.
Call me when you can.
The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.
He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.
Steve called Gareth.
"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."
"What's going on?"
Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"
"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."
"Steve-"
"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"
"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"
"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."
Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.
He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.
Until now.
It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.
No time to wallow.
He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.
"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."
"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.
She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"
"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.
"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."
"Nothing happened!"
"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"
Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.
Steve nodded once.
Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."
"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.
She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.
His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.
Eddie walked through his door.
He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.
"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.
"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."
The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.
He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.
The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.
He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.
He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.
"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.
"I needed to explain-"
"Right."
"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."
Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.
"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."
Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.
He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.
"No, Steve, you don't understand."
"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."
Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.
Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.
Many of them from Eddie himself.
"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.
So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.
But then he started playing the voicemails.
"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."
"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."
"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."
"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."
Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.
"Well?" He asked, broken.
"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.
"Great for him."
"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."
At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.
But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.
"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.
"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."
Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.
But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.
Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.
Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.
He just needed to feel him.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”
“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”
Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.
“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”
“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”
“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”
“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”
“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”
Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”
“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”
“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.
Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”
“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.
That bastard.
“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”
“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.
“What?”
“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”
“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.
“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”
Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”
“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."
Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."
"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"
"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."
"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."
"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."
"So you're not saying no?"
"Why would I say no?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."
"You're ridiculous."
"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.
"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.
"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."
"I'm not doing that."
"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."
"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."
"The sooner the better, sweetheart."
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