#also if you're wondering about the signature..
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artstalia · 11 months ago
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I don't usually post my art anymore, but I did fanart for once and was super indulgent lol
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sailordingus · 1 year ago
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for context to my last post: i have a folder in my art folder dedicated SPECIFICALLY to wips of stuff like this
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and finally, my favorite
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nerdygirlramblings · 4 months ago
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continued adventures of omegaverse!141
previous
an: the idea of separate task force and pack comes directly from @dragonnarrative-writes and their amazing 'Autumn Embers' series
You leave breakfast feeling both lighter and heavier. An invitation to join the 141 is a dream come true, and the idea that someone other than Captain Price was speaking favorably about your skills is intoxicating. You only know the members of the 141 by reputation, so you don't know who'd seen you on the shooting range. You wish you knew so you could properly thank them.
When he'd made the offer, Price said he'd like to speak to you more formally at 1600. You've never been anything but basic infantry, so you wonder what needs to happen to ensure your transfer into the 141. To keep yourself circling around things you can't control, you focus on leading your squad through basic land nav maneuvers.
After land nav and lunch, it's sparring and workouts in the gym. The room is busier than you like, especially as you aren't here for yourself. The constant eyes on you and your squad throw them off, but you use it to remind them all how important it is to focus despite the pressure. It certainly isn't an active battlefield, but the fight - flight - freeze reaction can help train them out of that headspace.
When it's finally time to meet Price, you dismiss your squad for the day and head to the base office complex. He told you where to find him, and you're knocking at the door a few minutes early.
"Punctual," he rumbles when he opens the door. "'s a good sign." He gestures you into his office and you notice it's spartan nature. There are only a few items in the wall: mostly awards and commendations. There's a single photo frame on the desk but positioned so only Price, or someone on his side of the desk, can see it. You wonder what it is. It must be special to be one of the few personal items in the room.
The space is dominated by a large walnut desk meant to intimidate. As if his leading 141 isn't enough. As though being an alpha, and a large one at that, wasn't already nerve-wracking for anyone sitting across from him.
He must know how the optics of the space works because he comes and sits in the chair left open next to you. He has a thin folder in his hand as he sits.
"I wanna clear the air 'bout something first. I'm sure ya know the 141's an elite task force. But we're also a pack. I know lots 'a military packs form 'cause 'a proximity: always stationed tahgether or 'round one another all the time without really bein' compatible. But that ain't us. We're compatible as a task force an' a pack. But, and I wanna stress this, being pack ain't necessary to be on the task force. Task force wan's yer skill. 'owever, if ya do join the task force, we've already decided we're open at courtin' ya, if yer open ta bein' courted."
You reel, feeling like the ground has opened underneath you. Price must notice the panic in your eyes because he forges on.
"What I got 'ere," he lifts the slim folder, " is transfer orders. Effective immediately, or as immediately as I submit 'em. They've already got my signature. Once ya sign, if yer interested in bein' on the 141, ya'd train wi' us, run drills an' simulations wi' us. Like squads, we eat tahgether an' have the same R&R. Only thing ya wouldn' do is move inta the barracks wi' us. Not unless ya decided ya wanted to be part 'a the pack. Ya'd still work wi' recruits, but ya wouldn' 'ave a specific squad."
"Wait," you interrupt, "what happens to my soldiers then, if I don't have a squad?"
Price smiles wide at that. "Lookin' out fer 'em's good. Important to the unity of the task force ta look out fer one another. But no task force sergeant has their own squad 'cause we could be sent out at any time. Tha' lack 'a consistency would be worse fer 'em. So, yeah, someone'd take yer squad."
He watches you contemplate all it would mean to become part of his task force. It's a lot, and he hopes you're still up for the challenge, because the more time he spends with you, the more he wants you on the task force and in his pack.
You finally shake off the fog in your head and ask Price for some time to think about it before fully committing. "An' I'm sorry, sir. Because I know I said yes just this morning, but I never thought I'd lose my squad." You pause for a moment before quietly adding, "An' I never imagined the offer included being part of a pack."
He catches your eye and reminds you, "Ya'd only be pack if ya wanted to be. And we'd court ya the right way. If ya wanted."
In the end he gives you the folder and says there's no official deadline for the offer, but he would appreciate a firm answer - either with signed or voided papers - within two days.
You nod, already thinking through who you wanted to consult about this when Price pulls you from your thoughts again.
"Can I make one small request?" he asks politely.
You nod, adding, "If it's reasonable, sir, absolutely."
He gifts you another smile as he leans forward and says, "Join us in the mess tonight? I'd like to officially introduce you to the lads before you make your decision."
next
series masterlist | main masterlist
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ani-craft · 17 days ago
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Ren and Martyn on Cleo's stream
[long transcript under cut]
Ren: Cleo!
Cleo: Hi!
Ren: (singing) I just won TCG!
Martyn: You did win it?
Ren: (still singing) I just won TCG!
Martyn: You wanted to win that so bad as well.
Cleo: You won TCG?!
Ren: Dude I was sweating, that was scary!
Cleo: What did you win with? What deck? Tell me everything!
Ren: Oh! Um, hold on. Oh this is gonna make you so happy, actually!
Cleo: Please!
Ren: The best deck in the entire game—Hello! ZombieCleo-Welsknight PVP!
Cleo: YES! PVP deck!
Ren: Cleo knows, Cleo knows!
Cleo: Easy streams, easy mode deck. Martyn, it's an easy mode deck.
Ren: Why are you covered in like, post-it notes?
Cleo: Well, if you'd been in any plane and I could have gotten your signature, you would know that I'm collecting everyone's signature. But you don't, you go out and you leave me! And I'm alone in that room with all my friends. (Cleo laughs)
Martyn: You just think about yourself and it's selfish!
Cleo: How selfish are you, Ren!
Martyn: Find a sticky note and get back to your life!
Ren: Okay, okay, I'll find a dang sticky note!
Martyn: Clearly you don't need us!
Ren: Jeez! Okay!
Cleo: (laughs)
Ren: Love you, Cleo!
Cleo: Love you too!
Ren: Oh, do I get to stick this on you as well?
Martyn: You do!
Cleo: Yes. Uhh, there's sellotape down in my feet somewhere.
Martyn: You need it, yeah.
Ren: Oh, yeah.
Martyn: Am I still on there, I wonder if I've fallen off. Here, let me check.
Ren: Um, okay, lets see. I'm going to stick myself... (Ren makes a face) Uhh.
Cleo: Where are you going to stick yourself, Ren? (Cleo and Ren laugh)
Martyn: (teasingly) Finish the sentence.
Cleo: (also teasingly) You started, so you'll finish!
Martyn: C'mo—No! (following Ren) No! Stop! Hey! You come back here and you finish that sentence. Say it on camera!
Cleo: (laughing) I'm so glad that it's the three of us in a corridor alone. Cause no one else would have said that!
Martyn: Right!
Ren: Umm, lets see. I'm just gonna—I'm just gonna have myself dangling off of your... screen.
Martyn: Screen! Screen, okay.
Cleo: That tickles, Ren! You have to be very careful where you're placing things.
Martyn: So I have fallen off since earlier, so I'll sellotape this time.
Cleo: Oh, okay, cool.
Ren: You should dangle on the other side!
Martyn: Yeah, sounds good.
Cleo: So I've got Ren and Martyn dangling off my face, is what you're telling me?
Ren: Yeah, yeah, you can't, you can't actually— (Ren laughs) You can't see the danglage, but it's gonna be double danglage happening.
Cleo: Is it now?
Martyn: Cleo's getting bangs!
Cleo: I do appreciate the dangle. (Cleo snorts) It's late, it's nearly 2am. I can't.
Ren: (laughs) That's awesome! I'm going to take a picture of that for you, that's, uh, that's beautiful.
Cleo: Please, please do! I need that picture! Who else do I need? Chat who else do I need? I need...
Martyn: You definitely still needed Scar, right?
Ren: Yeah, I think so.
Cleo: Definitely still need Scar. I think I may need Joe as well.
Martyn: Yeah.
Ren: Okay, I am gonna go, because apparently I'm getting slapped in the face with a tortilla.
Martyn: I think I am at some point, so I'm gonna get you to Scar, and then I'll be coming back.
Cleo: Cool! Cool.
Martyn: Lets do it!
Cleo: I can help Scar do whatever Scar is doing. Which is...
Ren: Okay, awesome. Bye Cleo!
Cleo: I'll see ya! Enjoy the tortilla! Bye!
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nana-au · 7 months ago
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𝐁𝐅𝐅! 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 | your best friend wants to know what kissing feels like MDNI
warnings: heated make out, perverted thoughts, dry humping
Your best friend's lips were wet with spit and delightfully pink when he asked you if you've ever kissed before. You shake your head, confirming that you haven't, and if it weren't for the fact Yuji was your best friend you would have been embarrassed admitting that. But he was, so you weren't. You knew that he also had never kissed someone. Neither of you had ever dated anybody - always too involved in your own little bubble together. Attached at the hip.
"How come you're asking?" you question him, your eyes locking with his. He dodged the question, stuttering out nonsense as his cheeks turned the color of his hair.
"N-no reason," he blushed, and you nodded slowly - taking in how nervous your friend became.
It didn't take a whole lot of prying - it never did with Yuji. It wasn't unlike him to bring up something silly before trying to dismiss the fact he ever said it - like the time he asked your bra size. You looked up at him in shock, the skittle you were biting down on caught in your throat, causing you to choke. After recovering you gasped out, "Sorry. my what?" you asked him to clarify and his cheeks turned their signature rosy hue.
"I'm sorry... I don't know why I asked that," he stammered, pulling his his hoodie over his face and tightening the draw strings. It didn't take long for him to admit that he was just curious - and that he was sorry for how perverted it sounded. You patted his back, telling him it was just unexpected before giving him the answer to his question. You almost didn't notice how his lips formed an "o", silently picturing your response in his mind.
This day was just like any other for you two, honestly. "You've been thinking about kissing, Yuji?" you ask him nonchalantly. You found it always went down better if you acted like it was no big deal.
"I guess," he mumbled, trying to busy himself with the weather app on his phone.
"Did someone try to kiss you?" you kept prying, slowly but surely getting to the root of his question.
"No!" he all but shouted and your eyes narrowed.
"Then what's up?" again, your tone was nonchalant while he was anything but. He fidgeted under your gaze, knees bouncing with anxiety while he bit down on his bottom lip.
"I guess I was just wondering what it feels like... I don't know," he says dismissively, shaking his head before putting it in his hands; effectively avoiding your gaze. "I thought you would maybe know," he tells you, his words muffled by his large palms.
"Oh sorry, I don't," you tell him, going back on your phone in silence. When he hears a video play, he takes his head from his hands, looking up at you as you giggled at your screen, already deciding to forget about what he asked. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see Yuji frowning at you - like he still has something he wants to say. You use your foot to poke his leg, leaning further back onto the end of your couch. "Spit it out Yuj," you tell him, not bothering to look up from your phone.
"Do you ever wonder what it feels like?" he asks you, his typical playful tone now painfully timid. Your eyebrows quirk, looking back up to him and noticing how nervous he looks.
"I guess sometimes," you say, biting your lip while you waited for him to continue.
"D-Did you maybe want to... I don't know...," he rambles, lifting his hand up to cover his face again. You patiently wait for him to recover himself. "You can say no," he begins, hands noticeably shaky. You sit up abruptly upon noticing his hands quiver - scooching over to be closer to him. He looks up, a little shocked seeing you so close to him and his throat bobs from swallowing harshly. "Do you maybe want to kiss me? Just to know what it feels like," he spits out, saying it so fast you could hardly catch his question but you do. Your lips part in surprise.
Was it a bit of an odd suggestion from your best friend? Sure, yeah. But was Yuji an odd guy? Absolutely. Your best friend was a fanatic for all things weird - you had known this your whole life. Hell, you sat right next to him while he watched his obscure, gory horror movies that made your stomach church. All though he assured you that you didn't have to watch them with him, Yuji was your best friend. Anything he was interested - anything that he wanted to do, you were down. So was it odd to kiss your best friend? Most would say yes. But Yuji and you weren't most people, that's why you two were so good together. You 'matched each other's freak', for lack of a better term.
Despite the fact neither of you had kissed anyone, the two of you got the hang of it fairly quickly. It started with a few pecks; you leaned even closer to your best friend, eyes watching as his lips twitched in anticipation. "Let me know if you want me to stop, Yuj," you told him before closing the gap between you two. His lips were soft against yours and smooth as butter. You planted a few light kisses, pulling away to check in with him. His face was flushed and you looked just a few inches down to see how strong his hand gripped the couch's arm behind him, causing his muscles to flex - showing off his toned forearm and bicep he earned from his years of hard work in the various sports he played. "Was that ok?" you inquire, ghosting over his lips. He nodded desperately, adjusting himself to fully face you before dragging you onto his lap and smashing his lips into yours.
You didn't have time to be taken aback, too distracted with abrupt change in pace as his lips smushed against yours. He groaned, snaking his hands around your back and pulling you flush against him, deepening the kiss. He could feel your squishy breasts push against his hard chest and his head began to spin. Your scent was permeating in his space, clogging his senses. He was entranced by the foreign feeling of another mouth on his, causing him to not think clearly. At least that's what he told himself as his lips moved against yours. He wasn't himself. That's why he was so desperate. That's why his tongue licked along the seam of your mouth, silently asking you to part your lips so he could slip it in.
That's why when you opened up for him he couldn't help bucking his hips up into you. He had to fight back an embarrassed whine from the realization he was humping his best friend - all because she let him explore her mouth. You sat on his lap patiently though, allowing Yuji to use your unsuspecting lips to know what it feels like to kiss.
His hands rose from your hips, sliding up to feel more of your body as he kept unknowingly thrusting himself up against you - too lost from the feeling of your tongue wrestling his. Even his tongue was stronger than you - you were unable to fight for control over your own mouth as his unskilled tongue explored yours. His hands stopped just below your breast, using his thumbs to subtly massage the underside of your tits. You were completely pliant under his grasp, allowing your friend to explore and hump you while you took what he gave you. It was completely new to you - what he was doing with his body to yours - but you'd be a liar if you told him you wanted him to stop. It was overwhelming and confusing but you would be the last person to put an end to what was happening. You both were young adults and embarrassingly inexperienced. Even though the awkwardness between you two for the rest of the day would be palpable; you two were too excited to finally get in on what every one else your age had already long since experienced. It didn't hurt you both found each other attractive...
The longer you found your tongue tangled up with his - the more handsy Yuji got. He wasn't only experiencing his first kiss - but many firsts. Like his first time touching a woman's breasts; feeling the weight of yours heavy in his hands as he kneaded and squished the supple skin. Since you two were just relaxing at home you didn't bother to wear a bra - something Yuji was grateful for as he reached under your shirt, his thumbs grazing your hardened nipples. He experienced making a woman moan for the first time - his attentive hands on your sensitive chest coupled with the feeling of his hard on barely confined under his loose sweatpants brushing against your center caused you to whimper - a sound Yuji could never forget even if he tried.
Your lips finally detached at the sound of your muffled moan - spit trailing from both of your mouths as you two pulled back. Both of you were out of breath, still holding onto one another while you struggled to fill your lungs up with air. "We should probably stop there," you suggested, all though the tone you used suggested otherwise.
"Yeah, probably," Yuji says unconvinced, his covered length beneath you twitches while you two only watch each other - eager to see what the other's next move might be. His hands are still on your chest - just beneath the underside of your breast and he fights to keep his hands from squeezing you one last time.
"Okay," you say, still perched in his lap.
"Okay," he responds, still holding your breasts.
You can only watch him as he watches you - both fighting against the realization that what was happening needed to come to an end. "How about just one more kiss?" he suggests and you nod, moving in to peck his lips; taking your time before pulling back to face him again.
"One more," you find yourself saying, again kissing him before pulling away. You both stare at each other - faces painted with pain trying to fight against what you both wanted but shouldn't be doing.
"We don't have to stop...." Yuji finally suggests, eyebrows scrunching nervously waiting for your response.
"Yeah... that works..." is all you say.
should i make a part 2? idk if i liked this....
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writingwithciara · 2 months ago
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the stand in -luke hughes-
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summary: y/n needed a date, and quick. with nobody else available, she turned to the only guy she knew was available. her best friends little brother. so what if they never got along? what could possibly go wrong?
word count: 5k
pairing: luke hughes x reader, jack hughes x bestfriend!platonic reader
notes: recently inspired by a book i just finished reading.
you're coming to the wedding, right? i don't think i could handle things without you also can't wait to meet your fiance love you so much <3
y/n stared at her phone as the texts from her cousin kept coming in. she was getting married to the guy she had been in a relationship with since basically kindergarten. marc, short for marcella, & jacob were barely ever apart growing up & it only escalated from there when they gave in to their feelings and started dating in 6th grade.
the longer y/n stared at the screen, the more she regretted ever mentioning she had a fiance. but she knew her family would get suspicious and try to set her up with someone if she showed up single again.
when she informed them she really was getting married, she was not banking on her fiance leaving her.
she whipped out her phone and sent a desperate text to her best friend.
jack i need your help. call me asap
within seconds, her phone was ringing with the signature song jack had assigned himself. when she picked up the phone, she didn't hesitate to start explaining. it was coming out so fast, he had to stop her.
"slow down, y/n. take a breath and then tell me what's got you so worried."
and she listened. she took a deep breath and sighed. "my cousin is getting married in a few weeks and i made the mistake of telling her about my fiance."
"but you don't have one because jerry is a jackass."
"mildly put, but yeah." she ran a hand through her hair. "i want to tell her that we're not together anymore but that would mean some excruciating mental pain at the wedding."
"right. when your entire family tries to set you up with a single guy there."
"see? you understand me, jack." she smiled. "so, i was wondering if-"
"you know i would love to. but unfortunately, i will be busy planning something super spectacular."
"i hate you." but she didn't. not even a little.
"no you don't." y/n could hear the smirk through the phone.
"jack, what am i supposed to do?"
"you could tell marc the truth and hopefully she won't tell the rest of your family."
"be realistic."
"you're right. i knew it as soon as the words left my mouth." jack looked around his apartment. "oh, i got it. hear me out, okay?"
"what's your idea?" she knew she was going to regret asking, due to the tone in his voice.
"luke's free."
"are you kidding? i said be realistic, jack. that is the worst possible idea ever."
"no. the worst possible idea would be telling them the truth, remember?"
"but i don't want to go with luke. he's the exact opposite of jerry."
"hey, i heard that!" she could hear luke's voice somewhere in the background.
"jack hughes, do you have me on speaker?!"
"only for a second. i had to set it on my dresser to grab something. but you're off now." he chuckled. "and luke may be the exact opposite of jerry, but that's a good thing."
"enlighten me."
"well for starters, he's nicer to me than jerry ever was. and two, he would never ever break off your engagement for stupid reasons."
"well we would never be engaged, so there's that."
"look, do you want a solution or not?"
"a helpful one would be great."
"luke is a good guy, whether you choose to believe it or not. and i'm not just saying that because he's my brother." it was jack's turn to sigh. "just please give him a chance. it's only going to be for one night, isn't it?"
"5 actually. gotta fly up a few days before & we'll be staying at my parent's old place." y/n rubbed her head. "i hate that i'm desperate enough to actually consider using luke of all people."
"hey, i heard that too!"
"take me off of speaker, jack."
"okay okay. you're off. for real this time." jack was laughing but y/n didn't find it funny. although she and luke were never shy when it came to their dislike for one another, she didn't like him hearing how she felt. "so, desperation is making you delirious, huh?"
"i suppose so." y/n looked at her tv. "tell luke to meet me here at noon tomorrow. there's some things we need to go over if this is going to work."
"got it."
when they hung up, y/n threw herself down on the couch and groaned. she couldn't believe she was doing this. and with luke of all people.
the next day, y/n sat at her kitchen counter and stared at the clock.
11:43
she was dreading the fact that luke had somehow agreed to do this. it wasn't like him to offer her any kind of help.
11:44
time was ticking by so slowly and part of her hoped that luke decided he wanted to back out. but that hope was shattered when not even a minute later, there was a knock on her door. she opened it to find luke standing there with a forced smile on his face.
"you're early."
"yeah. figured the earlier i got here, the faster we could go over everything and i could leave."
"and here i thought it was because you actually cared." y/n playfully put her hand over her heart, acting as if she was touched by his actions. she was not.
"don't get your hopes up." luke pushed past her and entered her apartment. she turned and followed him as he set his stuff down on the counter she had just vacated. "jack said he would pay me for this."
"i hope you like having one brother because after today, he's dead."
"relax. i was joking. he's not paying me. but he does owe me huuuuge for this."
"okay you don't have to act like putting up with me is that big of a deal."
"oh, but it is." luke avoided eye contact and looked at his phone. for some reason, his words stung her a little. but she had no idea why. "okay so what do we need to go over?"
"well, you already knew jerry-"
"unfortunately."
"so i just need to go over some things i told my cousin about him and we'll need to spend some time perfecting your acting skills."
"did you happen to tell your cousin his name?"
"no. you can still be luke."
"good. because jerry is the one person i hate" luke smiled and finally looked at y/n. "besides you of course."
"lovely. let's get started, shall we."
over the next 4 days, y/n and luke met in public places to test everything she had taught him. it was not easy most of the time so on day 5, she requested that jack come along with them.
that didn't work because he laughed at everything luke did. he knew his brother was way better than jerry was and seeing him try to act like that guy made jack laugh uncontrollably.
when luke was in the bathroom, jack looked at y/n.
"what?"
"i'm realizing now that you are a saint."
"what do you mean?"
"for starters, you put up with jerry for so long and now you're putting up with luke acting like him. and you're spending time with luke without complaining or yelling at him or wanting to rip his head off."
"well, it's not like i had a choice." y/n rolled her eyes and placed her gaze on her best friend. "what's this super spectacular thing you're planning?"
"it's a surprise, sweetheart." jack chuckled. "and you can't give me that look because i'm not caving to it this time."
"you suck, hughes."
"don't doubt it." he smiled. "but you love me anyway."
"always." y/n shook her head and looked toward the bathroom. "does he always take forever or is this new?"
"maybe he ran into a girl on his way and now he's getting her number."
"oh boy. do i feel sorry for the girl who ends up with that kid."
"careful. that's your fiance you're talking about." luke appeared at the table, causing y/n to jump a little. he took his seat next to jack. "what's next on the schedule?"
"nothing. we're actually done for today. you are relieved of your duties, oh kind sir."
"okay cool." he quickly stood back up. "same time tomorrow?"
"yeah. don't be late again."
"you got it, boss." luke said goodbye to jack and y/n before walking out of the building. when he was gone, jack looked at her.
"i just witnessed over an hour of civilized conversation." he chuckled.
"there's a first time for everything. doesn't mean it's going to be an every day thing after this is all said and done."
"fair point." he smiled. "but at least you're getting along for now."
"i suppose that's one way of looking at it."
---------
on the day they had to fly up for the wedding, y/n and luke woke up early. she wanted to have the earliest flight possible so she could spend more time with her family, even though she knew they were going to pester her endlessly about her upcoming 'wedding'.
"got everything, right?" luke asked as he hauled their bags to jack's car. y/n looked through her list and nodded.
"yup. we're good to go." she yawned and climbed into the passenger seat and waited for jack to start the drive to the airport.
after 10 minutes in silence, luke spoke up. "i'm not so sure about this. what if i do something wrong and mess this up for you?"
"we've been practicing for weeks. you're going to do great, luke. i just know it." she turned to look at him with a smile. it calmed him down for a minute but once she started a conversation with jack, his worry kept coming back. he really didn't want to let her down.
jack parked where he needed to and luke grabbed the bags.
"i'm going to miss you, jack."
"it's only a week. that'll fly by."
"but a week with luke? that's gonna be tough."
"hey. i heard that." luke chuckled while closing the car door. he waited patiently for their talk to end.
"it's going to be fine. you've been working with him for weeks so i figure there's not too much hatred flowing through your veins right now. plus, you'll be surrounded by your own family so that will take some of the pressure off at least."
"yeah. you're right." y/n smiled. "still going to miss you though."
"obviously." he squeezed her hand and smiled. "i'll be here to pick you up in a week."
"okay. i'll see you then." y/n got out of the car and went to grab her bag. luke gently pushed her hand away and headed inside. "luke i'm capable of carrying my own bag, you know."
"i know. but i want to do something nice for once. i know you're stressed about something happening."
"does it look like i'm stressed?"
"no. but you're great at acting. you hide it well. and i know you well enough to know when you're stressing about something."
"okay." she walked beside him and smiled. "thanks."
"you don't have to thank me for simply carrying your bag, you know."
"i know i don't have to but it's what i do when someone does something nice and unexpected. like this just seems so out of character for you."
"i'm trying to get into my role as your loving fiance." he chuckled.
once they went through all the necessary checkpoints and made it to their gate, y/n was finally able to breath.
"i just realized that we spent the last few weeks making sure you were the perfect 'jerry' & i didn't get to know a whole lot about you."
"i'm sure jack has told you plenty. plus you know me. i'm not much of a sharer."
"fair enough, i suppose." she looked out the window at the planes. "are you one of those people who sleeps on a plane or one that can never fully rest?"
"when travelling with the team, i can sleep perfectly fine. but other than that, i'm a wide-awake traveler."
"yeah me too. at least i won't be alone this time."
"we can use that time to talk to each other and not focus on your family. don't need you freaking out on the plane."
"yeah. okay. yeah. thank you."
"no problem."
they boarded the flight 10 minutes later and spent the entire time just talking and bonding as if they were actually good friends. it was unreal for both of them.
the minute they pulled up to y/n's old house, things felt off. the worry was back for both of them and before they walked in, luke reached down and held onto her hand. she gave him a look before he just shrugged.
"we're engaged, remember?"
"oh. right. i forgot for a second."
"it's going to be fine, y/n."
"i'm sure it will be." she looked at him and smiled a little. she followed luke slowly as he squeezed her hand for reassurance. they walked into the house and her parents came flying around the corner.
"oh it's so good to see you, y/n." her mom pulled her into a hug while her dad shook luke's hand. "oh and you must be the fiance."
"it's nice to meet you ma'am. i'm luke." he held his hand out but her mom pulled him into a hug.
"it's nice to finally meet you, luke." she pulled back and smiled. "oh marc is going to be so happy when she sees you guys tomorrow. she's been talking nonstop about the wedding so seeing her favorite cousin will be like a breath of fresh air."
"i can't wait to see her, mom." y/n smiled and before she could even try, luke was grabbing the bags and following y/n's dad up the stairs to their room. "i'm gonna go make sure dad doesn't scare luke too much."
she hurried up the stairs and went to the room. luke was standing at the window of her childhood bedroom and her dad was nowhere in sight.
"i like your parents. they're very kind."
"i like your parents too. they're a lot like mine in so many ways."
"i totally understand that." he smiled and turned around. "are we capable of sharing this bed?"
"we can try. i'm sorry in advance."
"no, no. it's alright. i should be the one saying sorry. we've known each other how long & i've never really been all that kind to you."
"i haven't been kind to you either, luke. just used to putting up with you for jack's sake."
"thanks." he chuckled. "but we can manage for 5 days, right?"
"well, you did tell me that i'm good at acting so i'm definitely capable of pulling this off." she smiled. "and you're really good too. we have nothing to be worried about."
"absolutely nothing." luke smiled and walked towards the door. "wait, what if nobody believes we're really a thing and they make us prove it with, like, a kiss or something?"
"i'm sure that won't happen. they're never weird like that."
"let's hope we can make it the entire trip without having to kiss. i couldn't imagine kissing you."
"hey, i'm a fantastic kisser. thank you very much."
"i'm sure you are but i just don't have the desire to find out." he smiled.
"okay, fair enough." y/n smiled at him and set her bag on the side of the bed before taking a seat and looking at luke. "marc is going to be obsessed with you."
"why do you say that?"
"she loves guys with curly hair. you should see the guy she's going to marry."
"speaking of them, how long have they been together?"
"they met in kindergarten. i witnessed the moment they met. it was adorable. they were inseparable for years but they didn't admit their feelings until 6th grade." y/n smiled while recalling the moment marcella and jacob knew they were going to be together forever. "they've been together ever since."
"really? that's honestly a sweet story." luke smiled. "so they've really never spent any significant time apart?"
"nope. the longest they were separated was the summer before our freshman year of high school when our family went on a cruise. my parents invited jacob to come along with us but his family went to visit his dying grandfather so he chose them."
"wow. 2 months." luke chuckled. "i can't even imagine being dependent on someone as much as they are on each other."
"me either, honestly. jerry was the first guy i ever had a solid connection like that with. and he'll likely be my last."
"unless you and jack follow through with your pact, right?"
"right? well, actually, even if we follow through with it, doesn't mean i'll have the same feelings for him that marc has for jacob."
"right. but at least you'll know jack would never leave you like jerry did."
"okay. that's true." y/n glanced at the picture on her desk. she stood up and walked over to it. "thank you for doing this, luke. i really appreciate it."
"of course." he stood behind her and smiled. "just remember this when i ask for a favor."
"noted." y/n set the picture down and turned to face him. she was about to comment on the close proximity but the doorbell rang. "are you ready to meet the happy couple?"
"yes." he walked to the door and waited. "lead the way."
it should've surprised y/n when, within 2 minutes, jacob and marcella were already calling luke one of their 'best friends'. but it didn't surprise her one bit.
despite her own resentment towards the youngest hughes brother, she couldn't deny that he was actually a likeable person to everyone else.
when they were alone again, y/n leaned against the wall and watched the smile on luke's face. he looked up at her and the smile fell, but only briefly.
"i love your family. hard to believe you're related to any of them."
"funny, luke. i say the same about you and your family. ellen, jim, jack and quinn are absolute saints. and then there's you."
"you sound insane." luke chuckled.
"get used to it. i'm going to be apart of your family in the future."
"you remember we're not actually engaged, don't you?"
"of course i remember it's fake. it's the only way i can tolerate you this long." y/n shook her head. "i was talking about my marriage to your brother."
"quinn?" luke raised his eyebrow. "wasn't aware you had a thing for him."
"wasn't it you who just brought up my pact with jack earlier? how did you forget about that?"
"relax. i was messing with you." luke smiled. "you and jack are rock solid. after this wedding, there will be nothing standing in your way of happily ever after."
something didn't feel right with the way the words came out of his mouth. they tasted funny and he didn't know why.
on the day of the wedding, y/n was in the room with marcella as she was finishing getting ready. marc turned to smile at y/n.
"thank you so much for being here. and for bringing luke. i love seeing you happy." marcella smiled widely. "and it's been a long time since you've been happy."
"yeah. luke's really, really great. i'm very lucky" y/n forced a smile. she hated lying to her family but it was better than telling them the truth. "i'm not as lucky as you, of course."
"jacob is perfect in every possible way. i love him so much."
"i know. i can't believe you guys have known each other your whole lives basically. it still doesn't feel real."
"the first day of kindergarten was the best day of my life." marcella looked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled. "you're going to make a really beautiful bride, y/n. and i can't wait to see you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress."
"you're gonna have to wait a while. we haven't even picked a date yet." y/n sighed. "plus there's so much that goes into planning a wedding." she gestured around them but smiled as she did so.
"i don't think luke would care about a huge ceremony. i think he would be happy doing it in front of just a priest. or even at the courthouse. he loves you and he can't wait to marry you."
"and how do you know this?"
"because he's my new bestie. i know all his secrets."
y/n froze. did luke tell marcella that he wasn't really her fiance? he couldn't have. right?
"plus, he told me."
"what?"
"he told me he loved you and couldn't wait to marry you."
"oh." y/n let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "i love him too."
and she found that wasn't really a lie. over the course of their visit to her old home, y/n began to warm-up to luke. he no longer got on her nerves like he did before. she loved him, sure. but it was more like she loved him like a brother.
and for some reason, even that felt weird to say or think about.
"you ready to go out there and marry the love of your life?" y/n asked while holding out her hand to marcella.
"always." she took y/n's hand and walked to where her father was waiting.
"i'll see you in there." y/n kissed her cousin's cheek and walked in with one of the groomsmen.
the second y/n walked in, luke couldn't take his eyes off of her. he had seen her dressed up before, as she had come to many team events as jack or jesper's date, but he couldn't help the way he was staring. the dress fit her so perfectly and her hair was done up perfectly as well. she was the most gorgeous person in the room and as far as everyone knew, she was his.
but reality sank in and luke knew she wasn't really his. it was clear to him that her heart belonged to jack. there was no way he could stop it. they were just meant to be. plain and simple.
y/n stood in her place at the end of the aisle and as marcella walked towards jacob, y/n' looked around the room. all eyes were on marcella, except for luke's. he was staring right at her. y/n's cheeks felt like they were suddenly on fire as she looked away from him. this was just an act.
to y/n, it felt like the ceremony took forever. she kept glancing at luke to find him already looking her way. and she couldn't deny that he looked good in his suit and tie ensemble.
when the reception began, y/n's gaze immediately went to luke. it was starting to become a habit she didn't want.
he smirked from his seat between her parents and set his phone in his pocket. y/n went over to him and smiled.
"wanna dance?"
"with you? always." luke stood up and took her hand. she tried not to stay on the words he spoke, knowing it was only because her parents were right there. but as they danced, something felt completely right.
they were getting along silently and it was nice for a change.
their moment was interrupted when luke's phone vibrated in his pocket. he pulled it out and frowned.
"it's jack. he says he's been trying to call you for an hour but you haven't been answering."
"i have my phone on the 'do not disturb' function. i didn't want it to go of during the ceremony."
"you should call him back." luke took a step back from her and sighed. "i'm sure it's important."
"luke-"
"it's okay. i'll just go talk to marc and jacob." he nodded towards the married couple and headed in their direction. y/n sighed and picked her phone up off the table. she quickly dialed jack's number and waited for him to pick up.
"about time. i've been trying to reach you for an hour. i was beginning to think you and luke killed each other" he sighed. "speaking of which, how are things going?"
"that's why you've been trying to reach me?" y/n let out a frustrated sigh. "things between us were good. we even danced until we got interrupted."
"i'm sorry about that. i didn't know."
"it's alright, jack." she glanced over at luke. "is that the only reason you needed me?"
"yes. wait, no. i wanted to tell you that you look really pretty in your dress."
"my dress? wait, can you see me?"
"no. luke took a picture and sent it to me, along with a text that read 'you made a mistake not coming with her to this thing. by far the most beautiful person in the room'. i wanted to let you know."
"oh." was all y/n could manage to say. she looked back over to where luke was last seen and smiled when she caught him staring again. "i'm gonna let you go, jack. there's something i need to do."
"good luck." jack chuckled before hanging up.
when she was free from the conversation, she put her phone back on the table, told her parents to keep an eye on it, then headed over to luke.
"what did he want to talk to you about? did he finally tell you how in love he was?"
"no. that would be ridiculous." she looked at him and grabbed his hand. "i need to talk to him for a minute. you guys mind?" she asked marc and jacob, who seemed to be in their own world. she dragged luke to a quiet hallway.
"what's going on? what did he say to you?"
"you texted him earlier."
"i did."
"what did you say?"
"nothing bad, if that's what you're asking."
"show me." she looked into his eyes. "please?"
"why is it so important?"
"jack said i looked really pretty in my dress."
for the first time all week, luke's gaze was anywhere but y/n. "okay."
"how does he know?"
"i don't know. kid's got a thing for you and thinks you're always pretty so he probably just assumed."
"luke, please." y/n rolled her eyes. "jack told me you sent him a picture of me in the dress. he mentioned there was a text included."
"what about it?"
"you called me the most beautiful person in the room. which i can't believe."
"fine. here's my phone." he swiped the screen open and handed it to her. "you wanted proof? here it is."
y/n read the text exchange jack told her about. seeing luke compliment her made her melt. it was the nicest thing he had ever said about her. she handed the phone back to him and smiled.
"luke, this is incredibly sweet. but you're very wrong."
"what do you mean?"
"at a wedding, the bride is always the most beautiful person in the room. none of the guests can ever eclipse that."
"of course marc is beautiful. but i can't help it if i think you're more beautiful." he ran his hands through his hair.
"i appreciate the compliment, luke. i really do. but there are rules for a wedding."
"i'm aware now. thank you." luke looked at her with his signature crooked smirk. "i'm sorry for the past, by the way. maybe jack was onto something when he made a pact with you."
"can we stop talking about your brother, who most definitely doesn't have a thing for me?"
"oh, he most certainly does. how could you not see it?"
"i don't know. too focused on his brother, i suppose. think quinn and i have a shot?" she glanced up at luke and giggled when his smile dropped.
"i just complimented you for the very first time and you want to talk about being interested in quinn? unbelievable. when will it be my turn?"
y/n didn't answer with her words. instead, she pulled him close and kissed him. it started as a way to shut him up but when she went to pull away, luke's hands found her waist and he tugged her closer, deepening the kiss in the process.
"it's always going to be your turn, luke." y/n grinned when they finally pulled apart.
"jack's going to hate me." he chuckled before resting his forehead against hers. his eyes were still closed but the goofy smile stayed on his face. "but it was definitely worth it."
"hmm, was it?" y/n leaned up to peck his lips.
"oh. for sure." luke held her tight against his chest. "i can't believe i was stupid and rude to you. when i could've been enjoying that kiss for years."
"the past doesn't matter anymore, luke. we've got a whole lifetime to makeup for that."
"damn right we do."
luke smirked and pulled her in for another kiss. he still couldn't believe it was happening. but as y/n kissed him back, he could get used to making up for the past.
572 notes · View notes
helen-with-an-a · 3 months ago
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You're mine (18+)
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Description: no-plot-pure-smut based on Those photos
TW: smut, 18+, fingering (R giving), dirty talk?
Beautiful Girl masterlist
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You looked the picture of domestic innocence. Snapping the final lids shut on the Tupperware as you tidied up from the manic batch cooking marathon you had just completed. Utensils and spices littering the counter as you packed away the last of the meals. Alexia resting against the table, arms crossed over her chest, her signature frown on her lips as you moved so effortlessly.
You could feel her gaze on you. Her hazel eyes following your every move. How long would it take? You wondered. How long would it take for her to snap? You purposely hadn’t mentioned the pictures. Although it killed you not to pounce on her the minute they were realised. Once you had got over the initial shock of the sheer beauty that was on your screen, all your thoughts had been about her. What you would do to her, how you would take her apart, piece by piece, how you would hold her as you guided her over the edge. It was torture not to act on it. But you knew the wait would be worth it. That she would be worth it.
Had you seen them? Alexia thought. You must have seen them. You had it marked in your calendar. A little green dot that told you when any of her ads or promos were released. She had seen the calendar yesterday. The small green dot marked neatly in the top corner along with the time. Maybe you hadn’t realised the time? That must be it. You were in the middle of making some food, the kitchen smelling phenomenal as you whipped up a storm.
She watched as you bopped around, humming away to some awful British music you insisted on listening to, hips swaying enticingly. Alexia couldn’t help but admire you, her oversized Nike shirt covering most of your body. Ironic really, considering you were also a Nike athlete and received almost all of the same PR as her, yet you insisted that her clothes were just simply better than yours. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before. Oh no, she had seen you in every state. Happy … sad … angry … worked up … that glorious moment just before the bubble burst and you came tumbling over the edge.
Alexia shook her head. No, stop. Bad Ale. Maybe it was the stress from the last couple of weeks, maybe it was the lack of sex that had finally got to her. But all Alexia could think about was you. Not that she really minded.
She watched as you moved, rising up on your tiptoes to try and put something back on the top shelf. Your top rose up a little, exposing the silky skin of your upper thighs. The hint of soft blue fabric glinting teasingly at her.
“A-aquí,” Alexia coughed, trying to hide her gasp. “Let me get that for you, mi amor.” You smiled shyly at Alexia’s words, feeling her body press against yours as she reached over your head.
“Gracias, baby.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss to the underneath of her jaw in thanks. “You’re so helpful.” Alexia preened, a blush rising to her cheeks at the compliment.
“And pretty too,” you added nonchalantly. You turned, hands resting on her stomach, fiddling with the drawstring of her joggers. “Pretty, and sexy,” you leant forward, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “And hot.” Another kiss to the side of her neck. “And beautiful.” A kiss to her cheek. “Especially.” Your lips hovered just above hers, so close Alexia could feel your breath. “In that ad.” She surged forwards, lips moulding to yours as she drew you close, hands gripping your hips tightly.
You tasted sweet, like the perfect nectar that Alexia craved. The remedy to any issue. The answer to all her problems. She hummed happily as your fingers threaded into her hair, tugging lightly on the roots.
“Mi amor,” she gasped when you broke apart, your lips trailing down her jaw and latching onto the sweet spot that had her eyes rolling. She could barely think. Her mind a mess as your lips moved against her skin.
Memories of the photos popped back up in your mind. Her rippling muscles, the sheen of her skin, her small little smirk, the raised eyebrow. Challenging. Daring. Egging you on.
Oh, the duality of Alexia Putellas.
Cool, calm and collected.
A whimpering mess in moments.
“My beautiful girl,” you purred against her, twisting yourself around so her back was pressed against the countertop. “You have no idea what those photos did to me.” You trailed a finger along her abs, tracing the intents ever-so-carefully. “I’m a little offended I didn’t get prior warning.” You teased, smiling up at her, mouth wide in a crooked grin.
“And here, I thought being Alexia Putellas’s girlfriend would get me special privileges.” You pushed your hand under her waistband. “You really should give a girl more notice, baby. What if I was in public? Y’know, I almost had to go to the bedroom and sort myself out.” Your nails scratched lightly at her pubic bone, fingers just above the elastic of her knickers.
Alexia let out a shuddering breath, her hips arching against your hand, a silent plea to hurry up.
“But I think … I think my baby should get a little reward, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, relishing in the dizziness that was clearly written all over Alexia’s face. Her mind was spinning, your hand had left a burning trail in its wake, your words turned her mind to mush. She wanted to focus on your words, on you. But with every movement of your hands, every brush of your lips against her skin, her mind drifted further and further away.
“I think my Alexia, my Ale, deserves to know just how good she looked.” Your fingers circled her clit, drawing out a wanton moan. “I think my beautiful girl deserves to be fucked so good, she sees stars.”
You both groaned as you pushed one finger inside, her wetness leaving a damp spot on her knickers.
“You have no idea, baby.” You mumbled, lips moving back against her neck as you worked your finger against her, heel of your hand providing a perfect angle for Alexia to grind against. “You look so good.” You could feel her tighten around you in response to your words.
“Gr-gracias, mi …” she broke off in a moan. “Mi amor.”
“So good baby, remembering your manners.” Another loud sigh interrupted you. “When I saw the pictures,” you smirked, licking up her neck as she rocked against you. “My god, baby. I was soaked, literally instantly.” You couldn’t help but press your hips against her thigh. “I couldn’t think. You actually broke my brain. I think my heart stopped beating.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“I don’t know what would have been worse, to be honest. Being told and having to wait … or finding out along with everyone else.” You smiled as she gasped, your fingers brushing that spot inside her. “There it is,” you mumbled, giving her a quick kiss.
“You see, baby. Whilst everyone else gets to fawn over you. Gets to fantasise and imagine…” you picked up the pace, watching as she moaned and squirmed in response. “Only I get the real thing.” You whispered conspiratorially.
“I get you in every way you’ll let me.” You studied her face, the light slip of sweat beading up on her forehead as she concentrated on feeling every inch of pleasure you were giving her, “I get to see you in the morning, when your hair’s a mess and you have on one of my old Wolfsburg jerseys, when you have never looked more gorgeous.” Alexia’s hand came to grip at your wrist, begging for more.
“I get to see you in training, when your all hot and sweaty and sexy.” She swallowed, throwing her head back as she ground down against you.  
“I get to see you at home, lounging about in your joggers and bra when you look the picture of effortless beauty.” She was breathing more heavily now, a sign that she was close to cumming.
“I get to see you, laid out and naked just for me in our bed. Being my beautiful girl as you let me have my way with you.”
“C-cerca” Alexia whined, her hips moving more frantically as you slipped another finger in.
“You going to cum for me Ale?” You watched as she squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut. “You going to make a mess for me?” She nodded enthusiastically. “Make a mess all over my hand?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I can feel you squeezing me so tight, beautiful girl.” You never stopped your relentless pace. The sound of her wetness and harsh breathing mingling in the still air. “You look so sexy. Right now … in the photos … such a good girl, letting me have my way with you.”
“Amor,” Alexia cried, her body jerking with the pressure of her orgasm.
“That’s it baby, cum for me.” You guided her through it. Her breath hot against your cheek as she rested her forehead against yours.
“So pretty, my beautiful girl. So good for me.” You whispered a string of sweet compliments, helping guide Alexia back down.
“Gracias,” Alexia breathed, her face flushed.
“No need to thank me, beautiful.” You chuckled, slowly removing your hand from her underwear. Without breaking eye contact, you took your finger in your mouth, moaning loudly at the salty tang.
You watched as she swallowed, her eyes darkening. You let your fingers go with a pop. You smirked slyly. “You’re mine, Ale.”
519 notes · View notes
quillsnink · 6 months ago
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When SKZ finds your well-organized Korean notes
A/N : This idea randomly popped up in my head when I was learning my Spanish. Picture credit to the owner. Also this is the first time I've tried writing for all the members together.
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• Where each member suddenly stumbles upon your neat and well-organized notes for learning Korean. They knew you were studying but didn't realise you went so far as to maintaining an old diary of 2013 for writing down random notes, swear words, grammar rules, slangs, idioms, vocabulary, tests where you had graded yourself with a red pen with marks like 16/20 or 19/25 and your signature like a school teacher and even some phrases learnt from the boys.
• Chris
He found your Korean diary on a random Tuesday evening while he was searching for his laptop charger. He wondered what on earth were you doing with a 2013 diary when he had gifted you the latest one on New Year's Day. Not one to read someone's diary, but his interest was piqued because of a SKZ bookmark hanging out of the diary. He opens it curiously, flipping through the pages that contained grammar rules, self-graded tests with your signature (which he can't help but giggle at), and even an entire section labelled "what Channie taught me", containing phrases and words he had previously taught you, that he himself had forgotten, which little notes on the side in pencil on how to pronounce stating that "Channie says it like this". He smiles to himself, feeling a surge of warmth as he realizes you're working so hard to understand and connect with him and the group on a deeper level. He chuckles at the part where you had stated that he says a word in a certain tone and he's a little surprised to see how observant you were to how he spoke Korean that you had noticed such little things even he didn't know. He is moved by your dedication and effort. It meant so much to him that you wanted to understand him better and also the rest of the boys.
• Minho
Minho's looking around your room when his eyes fall on a notebook open on your bed, with pages full of neat handwriting. Intrigued, he walks over and begins to look through them, noting how well-organized and thoughtful each section is. The color-coding in different color ink, the little drawings, and the way you’ve broken down each concept and it’s clear you’ve put a lot of effort into learning. He spots a few phrases he's used like "Don't be silly" written in Hangul. He feels a strange pride in knowing that you had gone through so much trouble of noting down things he has said and how observant you were to the other members' words and he feels a soft warmth on his chest. When you notice him looking, he gives you an approving nod. "Your notes are impressive," he says, with a faint smile. "You’re serious about learning, huh? I respect that." He’s not overly sentimental, but there’s a hint of admiration in his tone. "Just make sure you don’t learn any bad habits from the guys. I'll teach you the proper way to speak," he adds with a teasing glint in his eyes and you roll your eyes with a smile on your lips.
• Changbin
Changbin flips your notes open curiously and starts reading. The first thing he notices is how neatly you've written grammar concepts and phrases with example sentences using names from the K industry like "Changbin ate an apple", "Joshua cannot swim", "Jaejoong, go to the market !". As he goes through, he can’t help but feel a sense of admiration for your dedication. You’ve put in so much work, and it’s clear that you’re genuinely interested in understanding the language. He chuckles when he sees a section labeled "Cute Phrases learnt from Binnie," where you’ve written down a few things he’s said, noting them with little hearts and stars. When you return, he grins at you, holding up the notebook. "These are really impressive," he says, giving you an encouraging smile. "You’ve put in a lot of effort. If you keep it up, you’ll be fluent in no time!". There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he looks at you, feeling touched that you care so much about connecting with him and the rest of the group in their language.
• Hyunjin
Hyunjin finds your notes when you’re both sitting on the couch. He’s flipping through some things on the table when he spots them, open to a section on descriptive words. At first, he’s just curious, but as he goes through them, he realizes how detailed your notes are. You’ve even added pronunciation tips in English and marked down specific tones you’d heard him use, adding little side notes in pencil like, "Try to sound softer, like Hyunjin." Seeing his own influence in your notes makes his heart race. He’s touched to know you’re paying so much attention to the language, even noting his speaking style. There’s something endearing about how you’re working so hard to speak Korean well, not just to understand him but to match his expressions too. "Wow, you’re really serious about this, huh?" he murmurs, glancing over at you with a soft smile. He leans in closer, resting his chin on his hand as he flips through more pages, admiring your hard work. "If you ever want a study buddy, I’d be happy to help. Maybe I could teach you some new words too… you know, personal ones that only we would know or swear words, whichever you want", he winks, enjoying the thought of having something special shared between the two of you.
• Han
Han stumbles upon your notes one day while you’re hanging out. He flips through them casually, but the more he reads, the more impressed he becomes. Your notes are detailed, organized, and incredibly thorough. You’ve written down vocabulary, grammar rules, and even broken down complex sentences into parts. He’s particularly amused when he sees a section labeled "Funny Phrases" with things he’s said, complete with little notes like, "Han said this when he was being silly." He feels a warmth in his chest, touched that you’ve been paying attention to his quirks and speech patterns. When he looks up at you, there’s a playful glint in his eye. "I didn’t know you were working this hard!" he exclaims. "Your notes are so good; I think I’d actually want to borrow them myself!". Han’s admiration is genuine, and he’s a little flustered by how much he enjoys seeing your dedication. "Anytime you want to practice with me, let me know," he offers, giving you a shy smile. "We could make it fun, you know, with little games and stuff and next time I'll take a test and put my signature on there and an A+ and a smiley if you get it all correct", he said with a wink.
• Felix
When Felix flips through the pages and finds your neat handwriting in Hangul , he's charmed by how much dedication you've put into it, especially when he saw you noted expressions and idioms he used labelled as "Sunshine Lixie's expressions", complete with little stars. His heart flutters at the sight. "Your notes are amazing!" he says, his eyes lighting up. "It’s so cool that you’re learning, and it’s adorable how you even have a section just for my phrases." He pats your shoulder proudly, feeling touched and a bit shy. "I could help you practice anytime you want," he adds, his voice softening, secretly hoping to spend more time with you.
• Seungmin
Seungmin finds your notes by accident when he’s helping you clean up after a study session. He notices them lying open on the table and can’t resist taking a look. As he reads through the pages, he’s impressed by your organization and the level of detail. You’ve made vocabulary lists, highlighted grammar points, and even written down little notes to help you remember certain words. He brings it up later, saying, "Your notes are really impressive. You’re actually doing a great job, and if you keep at it, I think you’ll become fluent in no time." He looks at you thoughtfully, adding, "If you ever need help with pronunciation or understanding something or maybe adding some more to the "Seungmin's Tips" list, I’d be happy to help."
• Jeongin
When the maknae finds your neat diary that you've kept for learning Korean, he is a little surprised but also very impressed at you progress as the self graded "test scores" went higher and as he also remembers some difficult words meant for upper Intermediate learners you'd used a week ago while talking to him. He chuckles when he sees his own "Innie’s Words" section, where you’ve noted down phrases he’s said. Later, he brings it up with a smile, saying, "Your notes are really detailed. It’s so cool that you’re putting in so much effort to learn our language." There’s a sense of pride in his voice as he looks at you, genuinely impressed by your dedication. "If you ever need help, I’m here. I could even teach you some more slang, if you’re up for it Y/N ! And next time, I hope to see you score full marks on your little self tests".
A/N : Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you liked it. You can find the rest of my masterlist here.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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Seeing Stars 1
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes
Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)
Note: Guess this is happening.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The lights, the noise, the crowd, it's all a bit much. You move out of the way of another Red, or, Black Widow cosplayer only to nearly bump into a rather short but broad Thor. At least, you think you have those right. You don't know. Bonita is more into this stuff. You're more here for moral support, or more realistically, to carry her bags.
Didn't she tell you she was trying to cut down her spending? You've already tallied up more than you'd spend on groceries on a single poster and a bobblehead hero. Which one was that? The one with the metal arm…
You jostle against Bonita to keep from brushing against a stranger. You're not much for human contact as it is, but you'd rather it be here than that guy in the Spiderboy outfit doing twirls. You can respect the passion but it's all over the top. Someone's going to get hurt.
"Alright, signature time!" Bonita claps her hands and leads you over to a long queue behind a velvet cord. A man in black asks for her VIP pass. She shows it and you see the not so subtle total on the receipt; $500! That's robbery. These Stark Industries-issued heroes don't need all that.
You keep your grumbles to yourself and cross your arms to follow her. The man stops you too. You reel back and give him a glower.
"Relax, I'm carrying milady's things," you raise the bag and bobblehead. "I'm not interested in having a class photo."
"Please, sir, she's not really into any of this," Bonita adds with a cute smile. He considers her and drops his shoulders. He waves you through.
You shuffle along with the line of bodies. You lean to the side as you try to see the front. It zigzags back and forth. You're going to be here forever.
"Why couldn't Mo come with again?" You drone.
"Because he's a butthead," she whines. "Couldn't even pay me back for getting the tickets on pre-sale so he can miss out!"
"I didn't pay either," you mutter.
"Yes, but you're more fun. My brother's spoiled. He deserves it."
You nod and move with her as the queue shifts again. It's easy for her to come out and spend all this money. She still lives at home. You're not judging her but she also doesn't seem ashamed of it either. As happy as you'd been when you got out on your own, you sometimes wonder what it'd be like to have people to fall back on.
"It's going to be so cool. I got a photo with both of them! EEEEE!" Her squeal has you touching your earlobes.
"Both of them," you nod dully.
"Captain America and the Winter Soldier," she exclaims and claps her hands. "Do you think they'll like my outfit?"
You look her up and down. She wears a star-spangled corset and a red and white striped skirt. She's like an excitable flag. You shrug. "It's cute, but you must be cold in here," you peer up at the high-ceilings and the fans swirling the air around.
"Nope! Too excited," she assures you.
"Cool."
You might not be into any of this but you try to be a supportive friend. Bonita's a bit flighty but she's not a bad person. Really, you admire how into things she gets. You have your things but she's about as interested in those as you are in super soldiers.
She chatters on about the photo. Do you think they'll sign it too? Oh, she needs to put it right above her desk. Obviously, it's going to be her phone background. You nod and peer around vaguely.
She thrives in place likes these. Bright, loud, and chaotic. You'll take something warm to drink and a book. She'll join you if you throw in some face masks and the like.
It's more than hour before you're in sight of the front table. Your feet hurt from standing mostly in one spot. You stretch your neck one-way than the other as you near the head of the line. You stand right by the stanchion where the cord opens.
Someone emerges from behind the curtain and you have to quickly step out the bouncing soldier's way. Is it considered stolen valour or an homage? As you move, your elbow hits someone else and you spin to face the unexpected figure.
"Oh," the man catches your elbow as you look up at him. Dark beard, dark hair past his chin, wide shoulders, and straight posture. His blue eyes seem familiar. "Sorry, miss. I'm just trying to get back to my station."
You sidle closer to Bonita as she gasps. The man brushes his fingertips down your sleeve as he passes and heads for the table. He stops to speak with the person handing out merch then proceeds behind the curtain where the flashes have been steadily flickering behind.
"Gosh, can you believe that?"
"Believe what?" You stare after him.
"That was him. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier," she exclaims. You blink at her and she scoffs.
"God, you're so lame. I can't believe you had no idea."
"I dunno," you pop your shoulders up and down. "Not my thing but that's cool."
"Oop!" She hops on her toes as the person at the table calls for the next in line, "that's me."
"Have fun," you say as you move aside with her haul.
She skips up to the table and shows her phone again. She takes the SWAG they offer her as they explain the next step and point behind the curtain. As she disappears behind it, you hear her squeal. You wonder if super soldiers have super hearing. That must've hurt.
You sway as you wait. Your name cuts through the air as you space out staring at a banner and you look over as Bonita waves from behind the curtain. You hesitantly cross the floor, expecting to be stopped.
"They want you to join!" She says.
"What?" You stop a foot away from her head as it appears to float between the curtains.
"Sure. They said why not? Since you waited in line."
"Oh, no that's… fine. I'll stay out here."
"Come on," she huffs and grabs your wrist, dragging you through. "Here she is!"
You step through and scan the space. There's the photographer patiently waiting behind the camera. Across from the lens, two large men stand with smiles that you can tell are all for show. This is a paid appearance for them.
"Hey, how about it?" The blond asks and beckons you over.
"I guess if you want me too, Bonnie," you say to your friend without acknowledge the man you know to be Captain America.
She brings you over with her and stands you between her and the brown-haired sidekick. Bucky steps closer and you wince as his hand goes to your lower back. You suppose it's normal given that you're getting photos but you want nothing more than to growl at him.
"Alright, everyone set?" The photographer looks at the camera and adjusts the lens. "Smile."
The flash goes as you refuse to follow orders. You're not much on smiling. You stand there like a mannequin as your vision speckles from the light.
"Oh, Steve, um, will you pick me up for the next one?" Bonita asks. You cringe and step away from Bucky's hand. He looms close as you squirm.
"Sure," Steve accepts breezily. He lifts her with no effort at all as you give a skeptical look.
"How about you?" Bucky touches your arm again and you draw away reflexively.
"No thanks," you curl your shoulders inward as you try to shrink down. "I'm good."
"Alright," the photographer says, "everyone together."
"Um, I think I'm going to step out, actually--"
Too late. Bucky puts his arm over your shoulders and crowds you as Bonita poses in Steve's arms. Your eyes round in horror and the camera blinds you again. She's really going to owe you for this one.
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cloudyskydreams · 6 months ago
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S/O wearing their clothes! UT,UF,UF,HT
Thought this was a cute idea actually got inspired from the last request but decided to make it its own thing. Small little drabbles and two posts for the day I feel accomplished! As always hope y'all enjoy!
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Undertale:
Sans:
The rare occasion his jacket is to get washed and you pull it out of the dirty laundry to wear it. It smells like pine and ketchup and you relax into the smell as you stand in your shared bedroom. A chuckle from behind you has you spinning around and you see and amused Sans staring at you through lidded eyes. "was wondering what the jacket was in here" he puns and you smile as he steps closer pulling you into him. "you look cute starlight, you should wear my clothes more"
Papyrus:
It was a brisk autumn day and the air outside was cold enough to make goosebumps rise in your skin. You had only brought a jacket to the outing with your bonefriend and were regretting not bringing mittens or a hat or something of the like. Papyrus noticing how cold you were took off his scarf and wrapped it around your neck, it's a large comfy scarf too. "HERE YOU ARE SWEET PEA DONT WANT YOU GETTING COLD." He thinks you look just perfect in his signature scarf and plans to make you one similar.
Underfell:
Red:
Red had taken his jacket off while working on your car and you being the grateful partner decided to give him a little show when he got back. Slipping on a pair of booty shorts you know he drools over you in and his jacket you pose on the couch and wait for him to come in. It takes a bit and you end up scrolling on your phone but his reaction is priceless. He drops he tool in his hand and his mouth is open in shock as he takes in sight of you. "fuck sweetheart you don't know what you do to me," he growls as he practically pounces on you.
Edge:
Edge had left his clothes on the bed while he hopped in the shower after a long day and you saw your opportunity to try on his prized cape. You chuckle and slip the thing around your neck before impersonating the loud skeleton. He of course finishes much quicker than you anticipated and can't even pretend to be mad when he sees you parading around pretending to be him in his cape. He knocks on the doorframe and smirks upon seeing you're shocked face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING PET?" he questions a fire in his eyes as he steps closer to you and pulls you flush against him by his cape. He enjoys seeing you in his clothes as it's sort of a way for him to mark you as his. He also thinks you just look great in his clothes.
Underswap:
Blue:
You had stolen blues bandana and had decided to center your entire outfit around the little piece of cloth as a little surprise for him. You dressed up a little and put on the bandana before getting to work on breakfast. About ten minutes later a sleepy Blue exited the room half dressed and rubbing his eyes. "LOVE HAVE YOU SEEN MY— oh…" He takes in the sight of you before smirking. "ISN'T THIS A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES, DRESSED UP ALL FOR ME?" He waltzs over and kisses you while adjusting the bandana. He really enjoys the look and might ask to twin with you in the future.
Stretch:
Stretch had simply switched out what hoodie he had worn that day and you had snatched his signature orange one when you had the chance. "aww honey don't you look cute," He snaps a picture upon seeing you and chuckles as he sends it to Blue ranting about how cute his s/o is. He definetly leaves clothes out more often for you to find and wear. He might doodle you in his hoodie in his free time the image is stuck in his mind.
HorrorTale:
Axe:
He takes his jacket off occasionally and forgets where he puts it. Was actually coming to ask if you had seen it when he found you wear it, and lemme tell you it dwarfs you. Let's out a little "…oh" and his eyelights dilates to fill his whole socket as he stares at you for a few seconds. Thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and occasionally will simply take his jacket off and dump it on you because he enjoys your smell on it.
Willow:
His scarf is pretty torn and he wears it mostly out of sentimentality when he does. He has a new one but this one just holds so many memories he can't get rid of it even if alot of those memories are bad. You slip it on after finding it one day poking around the house, he finds you wearing it and he doesn't really react. "Hello Dearest I See You've Found My Old Scarf," He ruffles your hair and tells you the story of how he first got the scarf. Gently folds it and puts it up when you're done wearing it. He's happy to let you wear his other clothes too and as he's a giant they're all pretty huge on you and he thinks that's cute.
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kasagia · 11 months ago
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Right Hand VI
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You're tired of listening to others and of being afraid of prophecies that don't make sense and that were made up by someone else. Your present belonged only to you. And hell knows, you're going to take your future too. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; I was listening to 'Down Bad' by Taylor and I used quotes from a few of them; TEXT NOT CHECKED - I' barely managed to write it on time' I've just ended it and wanted to post it for you, since you are waiting for it so long; it took me ages but I hope you will like it; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~ Epilogue ~•♤♤♤•~
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Feyd rarely felt pain he didn't like. The years spent on Giedi Prime—or rather, years of enduring his uncle's methods of making him a true Harkonnen, his worthy successor—made Feyd love pain. He found pleasure in it—something he had to learn if he wanted to survive.
But it didn't bring him any satisfaction or pleasure when you pierced his chest with one of his swords. He feels pure pain. Anger, betrayal, and hurt.
He hates the way he falls limply to his knees in front of you. He hates that he still looks at you like you're a saint. He hates that he hopes you'll at least look him in the eyes, as if that would bring him some kind of salvation. He hates how lost he feels now and how he's slowly losing awareness of his surroundings. He hates that even though you stabbed him, all he can do is stare at you, clinging to the sight of you more than to his life.
"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N."
He feels you unhook your poisoned dagger from his arm. Feyd thinks you're doing it to finish him off. Poetically kill him with the weapon he gave you. He closes his eyes and waits for the final stab or throat slit. But nothing like that happens. He doesn't have the strength to turn around and see exactly what you're doing, but your words alone are enough for him to imagine the scene that is happening behind him.
"I may not be a Harkonnen, but I've picked up a few of their habits. If you want an agreement between us, show me your hand." After your words, he can hear a hiss from Atreides when you plunge the dagger into your joined hands, piercing them both through.
Feyd would have laughed mockingly if he hadn't spent all his energy on breathing slowly. He remembered explaining to you how contracts, such as arranged marriages, were sealed on Giedi Prime. The Harkonnens shook hands and pierced them with swords, thus signing a blood pact. This also applied to marriages and other such things. Blood bound them stronger than any words or signatures on paper. He cursed himself for the fact that, seeing your scared face at his words, he withdrew from this idea and decided to make a verbal agreement between you. He should be the one to bind you with his blood, not Atreides.
The steel in his body rubs against his lower ribs, but it does not damage any major organs. He tries to keep the sword in the exact same position you stuck it in, but he feels like he's going to faint from all the pain, the blood, and the fear for you that he feels now.
You made him so weak that even after you stabbed him, all he could think about was your safety and your well-being. Every shaky breath he took, every slow beat of his heart as he fought to stay conscious—it was all for you.
He just hoped like hell that you weren't lying a few moments ago, that this would all turn out to be just one of your games, and that you would soon end Atreides' life. But it's not like that.
"Let this blood be a symbol of our union." Your sweet, dangerous whisper reaches Feyd's ears.
He's raging with powerlessness and anger. That Atreides dog didn't deserve to mix his blood with yours. Only Feyd should be able to do this. Only his black blood should merge with your crimson, staining your joined hands as you swore allegiance to each other. His heart hurts more than the wound you gave him as he imagine how you and this desert rat are now echanging each other's blood.
If he hadn't been placed in such a vulnerable state by you, he would have ripped Atreides' heart out with his bare hands for daring to mix his blood with yours. A cold shiver runs down his spine at the thought of Atreides connecting with you in yet another way. A way Feyd was robbed too many times.
He tries to get up, but he doesn't have enough strength. All he can do is place his hands on the floor, trying to take the weight off his torso. The blade scratching his flesh bothers him much less than the fact that Atreides has the nerve to touch you or that you're blatantly ignoring him while playing whatever game you're playing right now.
"Leave him to me. I want… to repay him for all these years of fulfilling his wishes." The cool, composed tone of your voice that you used many times when the two of you dealt with inconvenient prisoners did nothing to inspire his hope or quench his rage.
You really betrayed him. You, of all people. How stupid and naive he was to believe you. He should have killed you the moment his eyes met yours. You were an intruder. A spy in disguise. His bittersweet end.
The door slams shut behind Atreides. Feyd hears your footsteps, the sand from your soles falling back onto the ground—the same ground where his black, thick blood is now flowing. You walk over to him; if he could focus enough, he would see the toes of your shoes.
You kneel in front of him, gently tugging on his head, causing him to rest on your shoulder. He can smell your blood dripping from your hand. You stain his head with it. Under any other circumstances, he would have appreciated how close you were to him, but now, with the sword rubbing uncomfortably against his insides, your touch doesn't bring any comfort at all. Even your lips pressed against his forehead cannot calm the volcano of emotions boiling inside him. But he is helpless. He is unable to do anything; he is completely surrendered to your grace. It wouldn't bother him a few hours ago. Now he hated it.
"I'm sorry." You whisper, then use the voice on him to tell him to fall asleep. When he drifts off to sleep at your command, he is already planning how he will take revenge on you. And hell knows you're going to pay him for it.
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"He'll be furious." One of your spies comments as she helps you carry Feyd's body out of the sietch.
Inessa was the only Harkonnen woman you could reasonably trust. She's done your dirty work many times, but... never THIS. You somewhat understood her concerns, but currently, when you both had to carry Feyd through the Fremen corridors and go unnoticed, you didn't necessarily approve of it.
"I am aware." You reply, looking around. Inessa and you somehow patched up Feyd's wound. Now you had to either drag him to the surface yourself and hope that someone would find him in the chaos of the fight or leave him with some of his soldiers.
You didn't like any of these ideas. But you had to do what you planned if you wanted to regain your freedom, even if it meant that Feyd would hate you for it for infinity.
"Fucking angry. I'm serious, Y/N." Inessa warns you again. You roll your eyes at her, for a Harkonnen she was very fearful.
You remember how her hands were shaking a few minutes ago as you both stitched up your new Baron. It was a makeshift dressing and still required treatment by a doctor, but it was enough to get Feyd to the ship and back to base. During this time, you will take care of everything here. You hope that by the time he wakes up, you will have finished what you set out to do. Otherwise, you don't see your future well.
"Just get him out of here." You grumble, turning into a side corridor, and encounter Harkonnen soldiers fighting the Fremen as they kill the last of them, their eyes shifting to the two of you. You nod at them. Without a word, they approach you and take Feyd from you. Inessa looks at you, worried.
"What if he wakes up?"
"You stuffed him with painkillers, and I ordered him to sleep. He won't get up until you're back on the ship." The woman sighs and shakes her head, looking at you intently as you speak.
"Y/N. You've had some… creatively stupid ideas, but this one is the worst of them all. He won't give up. You know it. So why are you doing this?" She asks, taking you off guard for a moment.
She was right. You could have returned to the ship with them, gone back to the safety of Giedi Prime, and let Feyd fight Paul alone. You could have let go and stopped participating in a war that wasn't yours. But at what cost? You've been obeying someone all your life. Bene Gesserit. Prophecies. Feyd. It's finally time for you to deal the cards. And you will do it. In your and Feyd's best interests. You just hoped that he could… forgive you, or see the reasoning behind your actions.
"For myself. For my freedom. For us. This is the only way to end the matter of Atreides, Fremen, and Arrakis. The only effective way."
"Don't you know it yet? You will never be free. We women will never enjoy men's freedom. There will always be someone to whom you must submit. You can't change your fate."
"Then I'd rather die trying." You say, turning on your heel. You don't look back to see her reaction to your words. You had too little time.
The burning sensation on your hand only reminded you of running out of it. The dagger that Feyd gave you must have also had an effect on Atreides. You don't know how advanced he is in Bene Gesserit teachings, so you had to hurry before he detected the poison in his body. Or, God forbid, neutralise it.
You wipe your sweating forehead with the sleeve of your hand as your body begins to fight the poison slowly accumulating in your body. The antidote rested safely in a small syringe hidden in the handle of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh. You just had to use it when the time was right.
You hope you will get everything done before you die.
You wander through the corridors without knowing where you are. You just have a feeling in the back of your head about where you should go. Besides, the escaping Harkonnens kind of showed you the way into the sietch.
Your hands are shaking as you slowly approach the main room—the one where the Fremen usually gather for large meetings and in case of an attack. Still, you thank Feyd for forcing you to attend the Harkonenn war meetings. At least now you are more familiar with the location of the Fremen's rooms and methods.
The closer you get to the main hall, the more Fremen women push past you, and you feel a little more confident walking through the crowd with them, confident that they are leading you to your place of harm in case of an attack. Even though the Harkonnen were already retreating from the area, some of them were still fighting the Fremen, who craved the blood on their swords and didn't let them just leave. You can only imagine the Feyd's wrath that they will have to face. His men didn't come... fully armed. Apparently it was supposed to be a quick action—get in and out with you, then launch a full attack and invasion.
You know that once he wakes up and heals up a bit, he's going to paint these halls with blood before he burns them to the ground.
Entering the main room, you immediately take a seat by the wall, watching all the Fremen gathering, carefully looking for Atreides among them. He probably had to make sure they "cleared" the halls from the Harkonnens. It makes you sick to think of them bragging about this as a victory over the Harkonnens. It makes you wish you had a little bomb with you...
"Are you already hiding in the shadows?" You shiver when you hear him whisper in your ear. You haven't learned to recognise his steps yet. They were irregular, different, and hard to detect and remember—as if he were constantly moving through the sand like a feather.
"The quicker I adapt, the better, right?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge. He shakes his head in amusement and watches the Fremen gather with you. It's strange that somehow no one has noticed him yet.
"I'm starting to understand why my cousin kept you so close to him."
"Cousin?" You ask in shock, turning your head towards him so you can look at him. This time he ignores you, not shifting his gaze from the Fremen.
"A little surprise. Maybe we all have a bit of Harkonnen in us after all?" He banters without giving you any of his attention. You snort indignantly, looking at the gathering people again.
"You look tired." You comment, wanting to tease him. You can barely keep yourself from stabbing him with your poisoned dagger a few times. But since he was talking to you so... carelessly, it meant he couldn't detect the poison. Good for you.
"I always am. I will rest when I sit peacefully on the imperial throne."
You would laugh at him if you could. He might easily sit on the emperor's throne, but he wouldn't be able to hold power over all the families for long. Certainly not if you and Feyd had anything to say about it.
Your heart clenches as you remember the moment you stabbed him. You had to. There was no other way to get rid of him long enough for you to take care of everything here. Also, he wouldn't allow you to do that if he knew what you were up to. Besides, if you didn't stab him, Atreides and he would get into a fight. Unfortunately, you weren't that confident in Feyd's abilities. He would be in a state of distraction if your well-being was at stake.
Besides, Atreides' words convinced you of this decision more than anything else.
More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.
If there was anything you could praise about Paul Atreides, it was his cunning. And you were sure that if Atreides was somehow going to defeat Feyd, it would be through intrigue and trickery. And then you weren't ready to save your baron. So you had to use drastic measures to get him out and allow yourself to function fully. You couldn't give Atreides any leverage or advantage over you. You certainly couldn't reveal what a weakness Feyd was to you.
"Hmm… you have to survive first." You answered thoughtfully. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to look at you. His intense, analysing gaze makes you burn as you have to endure his unwanted attention.
"With such a talented Bene Gesserit as MY right hand? I have not the slightest doubt. You proved your loyalty by killing my cousin. I have no doubt that you are capable of great things. However... this sudden change of sides is shocking, I must admit."
"Why? Because I chose something better for myself? It was the same with Feyd. I could either stay among the Bene Gesserit and hope they wouldn't send me to breed with anyone, or I could take matters into my own hands. And I don't like blindly entrusting my fate to someone else, Atreides."
"I see... you look good with independence, Harkonnen witch, but don't forget who you answer to."
"Of course, Fremen messiah." The nickname you give him makes me chuckle. He reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You look carefully at his bandaged hand, which you pierced with a dagger.
You find yourself comparing his hands to Feyd's. Harkonnen's hands were hard, rough, trained from years of using all kinds of weapons. Atrdida's hands were smoother, less stained by effort. Another difference between them was that Feyd would never let anyone bandage the wound you gave him. He would rather wear them proudly until the wound heals itself. You should think it's sick, but years spent by his side have taught you… to appreciate such gestures. Maybe you really had a completely different perception of normality?
Atreides' fingers trace your jaw, caressing it gently. You look into his eyes and immediately see the familiar gleam of audacity in them. He looked at you like you were a prize—a nice thing that he managed to take from his enemy, which he can now put on his bedside table and look at to remember his victory. Under any other circumstances, you would have bitten his fingers off, but unfortunately, you had to behave. But only for a moment longer.
"What do you think you're doing?" An angry, cold female voice echoes behind you. Before you know it, you're being pushed sideways against the wall. A dagger at your throat. You act automatically. You attack a woman, disarm her, and push her against a wall. But before you can put a dagger at her throat yourself, Atreides steps between you.
"What's necessary, Chani. I would suggest you not attack my guest." The woman glares at him, and for a moment, you think she's going to attack him or spit on him. Then her anger shifts to you.
"This Harkonnen witch has killed more of our people than any of them. She should be dead, not taken in as a guest." She growls furiously, giving you a distrustful, mad look. You understand her perfectly. If you were in her place, you would do the same. Only Feyd, unlike Atreides, couldn't stop you from hurting your rival.
"It's not up to you to decide her fate."
Chani gives the two of you one last hateful glare and pushes past Atreides, moving into the crowd, away from the two of you. You look at the woman carefully, analysing her gait and posture. Similar to Atreides. So you found his teacher.
"Your…"
"Concubine." He finishes, thus answering your question. You raise an eyebrow at him in surprise.
"I see."
"Jealous?" This time, you can't help but snort in amusement, giggling at his absurd question.
"I would sonner be jealous of a sandworm than of you. What is bewteen us is just an agreement. Don't forget that, Atreides."
"That's why I like you. Give me a moment. We'll talk later. Don't go anywhere. I will find you."
He puts his hand on your shoulder. You assume he thinks it's a gesture of reassurance, but it's not for you. You anxiously wait for him to move away from you so he can speak to the crowd of Fremen.
You shiver as you briefly make eye contact with Chani, who is standing at the other end of the room. She's still seething with rage. You're not entirely sure why she's so devoted to Atreides, but after thinking about it longer, you realise what her reason is for being so protective over him. You would probably do the same things for Feyd as she did for Paul. However, you would be... more ruthless towards your rival. You wave to the woman, smirking. She looks away from you, focusing her gaze on Atreides.
You study him as well, carefully observing him as he speaks to the Fremen. He is imperious and powerful, but also arrogant and conceited. His overconfidence that he acquired among the Fremen—the belief that he was the chosen one—will lead to his death. You will lead him to death. Otherwise, no one will stand a chance against him. He had one significant thing that could ensure his victory: a huge crowd of people who blindly believed that he would bring them salvation if they obediently followed his every request.
And maybe you would feel sorry for these people and try to help them if your own freedom and future weren't on the line.
You play with the handle of your dagger. You press a small button. A small ampoule with a needle falls into your hand. You hiss, injecting the contents of the ampoule into your arm.
Atreides was right. - You think, listening carefully to the man's speech to the crowd. - More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.
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The faint hum of the ship's engine gives Feyd a clear indication of where he is. He opens his eyes and looks around the room. He's in the bedroom of one of Harkonnen's ships. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looks at his bare chest. He furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise when he sees no wound or bandage—just a tiny, sealed scar in the area where you pierced him with the sword.
"Where are you going?" Your quiet, protesting whisper makes him freeze. After a while, he feels your warm hands on his shoulders as you pull him back into the soft sheets and into your arms. You cuddle up to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Stay. We still have a lot of time before we land on Lankiveil, so you can spend it in bed with your wife. I doubt we'll find a moment of peace for ourselves when our little Na-Baron demands swimming lessons from you and a tour around the new planet, so use this little moment of peace."
Feyd's heart skips a beat when he feels your lips brushing on the skin of his neck and hears you calling yourself his wife. He allows himself to drown in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your gentle touch on his skin. He buries his nose in your hair, shuddering slightly as you place small kisses on his neck and lick his skin, teasing him. However, one thing was still bothering him…
"Little Na-Baron?" He asks, confused, when you lazily stroke his head with your fingers, drawing patterns on its pale skin.
"Our son. I pleased you so well last night that you forgot about our son, or are you just not awake yet, darling?" You ask him teasingly, opening your eyes to look at him for the first time.
Feyd is speechless when he sees the spark of malice in your eyes and the beautiful smile you give him. Your beauty, the calmness with which you lie curled on his chest—as if it were the most normal thing you do every day—and the strange warmth that spreads across his chest because of it make him lose his ability to speak.
You giggle, pulling him closer to you and placing a tender, gentle kiss on his lips. You moan, enjoying the feeling of his plush lips, sucking on his bottom lip as you claim him as yours. Feyd feels himself starting to harden just from the feeling of your lips on his and the teasing movements of your fingers around his nipples.
"I…" He tries to speak, but then he hears the baby's soft whimpering. He tenses up, unaccustomed to any interaction with children.
His gaze goes from the cradle placed in the corner of the room to you in pure panic, as he has no idea what to do with the crying baby. But you don't seem to care about the baby crying as much as he does. You groan in protest and pull away from him, burying your face in the pillow.
"Mhm... go to her, it's your turn." You mumble, not giving him a glance, as you hug the pillow instead of him. He starts to be a little jealous, but that feeling fades away, replaced by panic as the baby's cries intensify.
"Now you're letting me go?" He asks, hoping you'll change your mind and take care of the crying demon in the cradle yourself.
"I simply found a better use for you elsewhere." He huffs, leaning towards you and ruffling your hair. You punch him in the chest and force him out of bed. He rolls his eyes at you and turns hesitantly towards the crib.
He feels his legs shaking and his heart beating with nervousness. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is stressed and nervous by a crying baby in a cradle. He breathes deeply as he stands over the cradle.
His world stops when his eyes meet small irises that are a similar shade of blue to his. And his heart stops when he sees a little copy of you. Your child is undoubtedly a reflection of you. She only has his eyes, but the colour of her skin and hair, the shape of her nose, mouth, and eyes are all you. Feyd's heart pounds as he stares at the small miracle before him. Suddenly, the sounds reach him again. Panicked, he takes the baby gently, making sure not to accidentally hurt her, and in a few quick steps, he is by your side again.
"I… I think it is hungry." He says, reaching out towards you to hand the baby to you as quickly as possible.
"Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, did you just call our daughter it?" You ask angrily, sitting on the bed and looking at him furious. You sigh at his helpless expression and take your daughter from him. "Forgive daddy, Katerina. He doesn't usually behave like this." You mumble sweetly to the baby, trying to calm her down.
Miraculously, because Feyd can't call it anything else, you manage to calm down the baby in your embrace, her little lips pursing in dissatisfaction as she waits for you to feed her. Feyd swears she makes the exact same face you do when you're impatient or angry. His heart melts even more at the image in front of him.
Feyd sits on the edge of the bed, watching in fascination as you feed your baby. This scene seems... unreal to him. He had never experienced anything like this before—the feelings of warmth, safety, and boundless love and devotion that appear in him when he looks at the two of you.
He may have had vague memories of his mother singing bedtime lullabies to him and Rabban, but... he had never felt the way he did with you and your daughter. He had never felt that disarming feeling of home that made him allow himself to become vulnerable for the first time in many years.
He uncertainly reaches towards the child and gently strokes his daughter's head. The colour of her hair is identical to yours. Feyd's lips form involuntarily in a smile when the child reaches her little hand to his fingers, tightening his fist firmly. As she gently moves his hand away from her head, she does not let her grip on his fingers loosen. She was strong for a baby. She certainly had a warrior nature inherited from both of you. Feyd couldn't wait to train her...
He found himself thinking that all he wanted was to curl up in this bed with you and hold you safely in his arms before he would be brutally torn from this beautiful dream or vision.
He sits on the bed, looking at the two of you, when suddenly the bedroom door opens. The thud of small feet on the metal floor echoes around the room, and that's all the warning Feyd gets before the little white-haired boy lunges at him.
"Dad! Dad! We'll be there soon! I can't wait. Uncle Rabban told me that there are huge oceans that can swallow our ships if we land wrong! Is it true?" Asks the child, sitting on his lap and holding him tightly.
Feyd hesitantly wraps his arms around the boy, making sure he doesn't accidentally fall from his lap to the floor. His gaze quickly shifts to you in utter confusion. Rabban as a caring, mischievous uncle? What the hell was that supposed to be?
"Your uncle has a habit of distorting some facts, Feydor. I assure you we'll be fine. And Lankiveil is wonderful, isn't it, honey?" You ask Feyd, resting Katerina on your shoulder and making sure she burps.
"Yes. It is beautiful." He says, unconsciously running a hand through his son's hair as he looks at the three of you, unable to get over the shock and awe.
"I want a hug." Your son demands. You laugh as you pull him closer to you. When you see that Feyd isn't moving to join you all, you grab his hand and gently guide him back to the soft pillows. You lie there curled up, you with Katerina on your chest, Feydor between you and him as you wrap your arms around each other.
His son mutters something to his sister, but Feyd doesn't hear him. All he can do is stare at the three of you in amazement.
"Now sleep. Both of you. I don't want to hear any grumpy complaints about not getting enough sleep, okay, my boys?"
'It only happened once." Feydor mumbles, manoeuvring your and Feyd's hands to hug him tightly. "Besides, Dad was whining worse than me."
"I have no doubt that was the case. Your dad is a terribly fussy and grumpy man." You laugh and lean in to place a quick kiss on Feyd's lips. He strokes your waist, moving closer to you and your son as baby Katerina mumbles something in a language only she knows.
Feyd can only watch tenderly as his little family falls asleep, curled up in each other's arms. And he believes that this is the best possible future that can await him. He doesn't want the throne. He doesn't want to become emperor. He just wants to be able to fall asleep and wake up with you in his arms and your children running around. It's all he dreams about.
The younger Feyd would certainly laugh at him and mock him for such a trivial goal he had set for himself, but what more could he want with the title of baron and you by his side?
He saw perfectly well how the lives of his uncle and emperor turned out and knew the tragic fate of great people in power who decided to devote their entire lives to achieving the greatest possible influence. Feyd didn't want to follow in their footsteps. He wanted you. He realised, with horror, that this was enough for him—the vision or dream he had now was his ideal future.
"I love you." He whispers to your sleeping form before the darkness overwhelms him again.
He wakes up again on the ship, in the same room, and on the same bed. The difference is that your warm body is not pressed against his, and the throbbing pain from his stomach spreads uncomfortably throughout his body.
He groans, sitting on the bed and looking around. His hairless eyebrows wrinkle when he sees one of your spies with him. He automatically grabs the hidden knife and attacks your spy before she notices that he woke up.
"My Lord Baron, I can explain…" The woman says this as he presses the blade against her chest. She stops talking when he cuts off her access to the air by tightening his grip on her neck.
"Where is my right hand?" He growls, sticking to the remains of his control when he refrains from killing her. However, he does not stop himself from making a light cut on your spy's neck. Years of experience have proved that people were more willing to talk after he took some blood from them.
"It really wasn't my idea. She decided so. She knew that you would not let her do what she was planning, so she had to somehow... get rid of you from there, my lord Baron."
"Hm... that sounds like her, but... I would like to hear more about that plan of her. Say something useful and I might even spare your life." Feyd purrs, lazily dragging the blade down her neck to her collarbone, making a small cut.
He preferred not to hurt your toy too much. He didn't know how you would react to the loss of this particular spy. She must have been someone you trusted to entrust him to her.
But that didn't mean that Feyd couldn't land his anger at you on her for leaving him behind and completely unaware of your actions.
"Long ago, the Bene Gesserit had only one reverend mother. Their order was small then, but it was developing well. A certain ritual was invented to ensure that the most powerful of them was in power. It… is about the struggle of life forces. I don't know exactly how it's done, but… lady Y/N said that they both have to die for one of them to survive. She… she knew you wouldn't let her, so she had to make you leave that rat's nest so she could get the job done." A cold shiver runs down Feyd's spine. He needs a moment to compose himself and process your spy's words before he speaks again.
"They both have to die? What do you mean?" He asks, unconsciously tightening his already painful grip on the woman. His hand, the one holding the dagger, trembles slightly as he impatiently stares at her, waiting for an answer.
"I... they have to... they... their hearts stop beating and... the one who is stronger and has more life energy takes over the other's powers and survives."
"So... she may lose and die?" Fed sees your spy swallowing heavily after hearing his question. Thanks to this, he already knows the answer to it.
Strangely, instead of the huge, red fury and bloodlust, everything he feels is fear. Since he arrived at Giedi Prime, he has never felt fear. His uncle made sure that this emotion did not prevent him from reaching the ideal that his uncle demanded from Feyd. But at this point, when the vision of your dead body appears before his eyes, Feyd feels almost paralysed by fear of your life.
"There is... a little possibilty, my lord Baron."
This information is enough for him to make a decision. He stabs your spy in the stomach and allows her to sit on a bed. He reaches the exit in a few steps and opens the door with a bang. A doctor and two soldiers are waiting in the corridor. They look at him with fear in their eyes when he comes out, covered in blood. Before they can speak and probably inform him about his state of health, Fed is already growling at them and giving orders.
"Heal her and bandage her. She was only fulfilling my fiancee's orders." Fed tells the doctor. He is pleased with the surprise he sees on your spy's face. He intends to enjoy informing everyone about his 'engagement' with you. If you could have your plans, he could have some of his too. "Tell the pilot to turn back. And call more ours. We will burn these rats' nests to the ground."
With this promise, he leaves the room, ignoring the pain in his trunk. He must have found you before Fremen left with you for another hideout. He had to be fast and precise if he wanted to have you safe by his side. Maybe he should also ask the doctor for a sedative. Just in case you were stubborn enough to fight him instead of cooperating with him.
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"What do you think?" Atreides' question catches you off guard for a moment. You stop watching the Fremen as they prepare to leave the sietch and shift your gaze to Atreides, raising an eyebrow in question. "About them. About my speech there."
"Are you looking for praise?" You mock, taking a closer look at what exactly he's putting into his bundle.
"I'm looking for a second opinion. Objective. Analytical and thorough." He replies, tying the fabric as he waits for your response.
"They will do whatever you want. Isn't that enough for you?" You ask, licking your lips as you choose your words carefully. You can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Paul wipes them away with his hand, not yet aware of the poison that courses through his veins.
You wanted to make sure as much as you could that when the moment came to defeat him and take his life force, there would be no shadow of a doubt that you would emerge victorious from the duel between you. After he went through the Reverend Mothers ceremony, you could try to perform the old ritual of reclaiming power between you two. This hasn't been done for centuries. So you hoped that everything you remembered from the old scrolls was true and that Atreides wouldn't surprise you with anything.
Even if he was a Kwisatz Haderach, you're still going to defeat him. No one and nothing will decide your fate.
"For now, yes. But in the future, I will need their full devotion. After all, I won't be the one to rule them on Arrakis." You raise your eyebrows questioningly, curious as to what his big plan for the future might be.
"Who do you want to entrust them to?"
Silence falls between you as you both look at each other intently. You know he's judging you, wondering how much he can tell you and how much he can hide from you. And you have to be convincing enough to gain even a little bit of trust from him. You know that stabbing Feyd helped you a lot with that. No matter how much it hurt you to do it.
"To be honest, you have the best skills to serve as Governor of Arrakis. The only question is, will you be equally faithful to me?"
"Me? Why?"
"They're already afraid of you. Besides, I saw your power—you're quite a powerful Bene Gesserit. Even if you don't like being called that, you can't cheat or change your destiny, no matter what."
"But... it is not all about power and fate, though is it?" You ask, slowly approaching him. "It is... something more there. Much more than we know." You whisper, looking at him with your most captivating gaze. Feyd would have killed him and tortured you if he saw you flirting with someone else... but luckily he wasn't here. And you had to somehow lower Atreides' guard.
"Indeed." He mumbles back and takes a step towards you. His fingers gently caress your jaw, tracing it until his fingertips brush against your lips. "My mother told me legends about the birth of the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. A woman who could bring thousands to their knees with a wave of her finger, tamed the most bloodthirsty of all beasts. Stilgar... has suspicions that you may be the mother of the one, the one to come. Of course, this conflicts with his perception of me as the chosen one."
He spoke the truth. You were the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. But not because you were born according to their program. You simply had potential, and they had way too much time and no obstacles to train you differently. You were supposed to be their perfect pawn in their game, to provide them with the Kwisatz Haderach. And now… you will kill the one who was supposed to be him.
"Even so, you don't lose power. They still listen to you. More than anyone else." You say, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips. He licks them, holding your jaw tightly as he leans slightly towards you.
"I may be my father's son, but I'm not going to make the same mistakes. You know, it is much safer to be feared than loved because... love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails."
"The prince Machiavelli." You say, knowing a quote from the book. You're a little surprised that he would read something like that. He also seems amazed that you know what book he took these words from.
"Indeed. Hmm... Maybe you're not that cruel and bloodthirsty Harkonnen witch people think you are. After all, you're a bit educated." Under any other circumstances, you would have kicked him in... his tender place for this. But now you have to smile sweetly, comforting yourself only with the thought that he will soon die at your hands.
"Believe me, Atreides. I am everything they talk about and more." You mumble before leaning in to connect your lips in a kiss.
Kissing him is… different from kissing Feyd. Less intense, less hot, and less passionate. With him, you don't feel that familiar thrill of excitement you feel every time Feyd literally devours you. This kiss is... too polite. There's not an ounce of desire in him, at least not on your part. You try to be persuasive, though, caressing his lips, but it's not the same plush softness of Feyd's lips. Your mind refuses to be fooled, and you realise with horror how deeply your new Baron has managed to get under your skin when you haven't been able to enjoy the kiss of any other man.
Atreides reaches for your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth. At least he was the only one having fun out of the two of you. You place your hands on his shoulders, slowly pulling your hidden dagger from your sleeve as you let the man kiss you and explore your body with his hands.
You almost sigh with relief when his lips finally leave yours. He moves to kiss your neck, and you decide that this is the moment to start the ritual.
"Stay still. Don't move or speak." You use the voice on him. He stiffens in an instant, his eyes widening slightly as the steel of your poisoned blade presses against his neck. "You were right. It's better to make them afraid of you than to love you."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see him grab his hidden knife. But before he can stab you, you place your hands on his temples and recite the old formula, beginning the ritual. You feel yourself slowly starting to lose strength. You both kneel to the floor, life draining from the two of you.
It has begun. - you think as darkness takes over you.
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This... is different from what you expected. Nowhere is it written what happens after the connection between the brains of the Bene Gesserit combatants is made. Or what kind of test are the two of you being put through to find out which one of you is stronger. You thought you and Atreides would stand in some imaginary arena and fight until one of you killed the other.
At least you would prefer this to the burning pain that overwhelmed you. You feel like you're immersed in pure, wild fire. All your nerves were burning. You felt your body, but at the same time, you were far from it. And all you could see and hear was blackness, screams, whispers, and songs in a language foreign to you. You feel like you've gone mad. Any pain you've felt doesn't compare to what you're going through right now.
You feel every cell in your body tear apart, and at the same time you remain in a void, unaware of anything except the feeling of pain.
But you endure it.
And suddenly, everything disappears. For a moment, you feel or hear nothing. It's just you and your consciousness as you anxiously await the turn of events.
Then various images begin to appear before your eyes—visions of the future and the past. You see every possible course of events that could occur and every single scenario that may happen. In some visions, both you and Feyd die; in others, it's just him or you; and in others, you both live to old age together. One element is constant. Only one. And you shudder every time you see the familiar figure of your future son ascending the throne as the Emperor and taking care of the entire world, restoring balance and peace.
All of Atreides' power has passed onto you. You knew everything. All possible futures. And they scared you more than you thought they would. And you feel completely different than you thought you would...
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After some time and tens of thousands of visions, you return to your body. You begin to feel everything around you—the soft sheets beneath you, the softness of the pillow beneath your head, and the quiet beeping of the machines keeping you alive.
You struggle to open your eyes, hissing as the light hits your eyes. You look around, expecting to find a familiar hospital room, but instead you find yourself in Feyd's chambers. On fucking Giedi Prime.
"Welcome among the living." Feyd's hoarse voice reaches your ears. You turn your head towards him—too quickly, making you feel a little dizzy—but you open your mouth to speak anyway.
You have a terrible coughing fit, and your throat is drier than it has ever been on Arrakis. As you curl up on Feyd's bed, coughing up your lungs, you see him quickly fill a glass of water from the corner of your eye. He sits next to you, pulling you against his chest. You lean your back against him and drink the water greedily.
Feyd gently strokes your back, watching carefully as you drink the water. His gaze is watchful and attentive as he makes sure you drink the last drop from your glass.
When you finish, he takes your glass and walks over to the table to set it down. A cold shiver runs through you as you feel the absence of his presence. You remember how the last time you saw him, he was unconscious and injured. Because of you.
"I was more expecting to be chained to a wall in a prison cell. Or to have your harpies hovering over me and waiting for you to cut me up for them." You say jokingly, teasing him. But he doesn't laugh. You see him tense at your words before he slowly turns to face you.
"I had such an idea in my mind a month ago, when I found you pale as death in the arms of the equally dead Atreides. But I guess enough time has passed for me to get over it… or I just killed enough Fremen and doctors and Bene Gesserit women who couldn't bring you back to calm myself down."
"Month?" You ask, swallowing thickly as you bravely endure his stern glare.
"Mhmm… a month, two weeks and five days to be precise. This whole time, you were either losing your pulse or screaming until your throat was torn. Also, you had a fever that we barely managed to break down, and you were pronounced dead a few times, but who cares, right?" He asks casually, but you can clearly see the rage bubbling inside him despite his obvious concern for you.
"Oh… that's… a while."
"A little bit more than a while." He growls at you, playing with his dagger—the exact same one he gave you. You shudder as you see how much the blade has bent from the blood of the people you used it on.
"What about Atreides?" You ask, confused, wondering if it was really a good idea to bring this up now. Especially since he is playing with a poisoned dagger in his hands. And you used up the antidote to it (apparently) a month ago.
"I have his head. Do you want it on a silver platter, or should I just frame his tongue and hang it on the wall? Maybe right next to yours for being a liar and a traitor?" He asks furiously. But that's not what scares you the most. He's calm. Too calm and composed. And this was often how his anger manifested itself before he killed his victims.
"I... you know perfectly well that I had to do it. If I had done it differently, his... skills would have been lost. And I... now I see everything. I can prevent everything, I can make everything fine. Isn't that a big advantage for you? Have an oracle next to you?" You ask, slightly nervous about what he's going to do next.
"Depends on what this oracle wants to show me and what it doesn't want to show me. But since you know everything and the entire future, you probably know what I will do now." He says and heads towards the exit.
Your heart clenches, and you feel an inexplicable panic as you see him walk away from you. You can't stand how cold he was towards you. You have to do something. You can't just let him go.
"Feyd." You call after him and get out of bed to follow him. When you're on your legs, you lose your balance, and you would have fallen to the floor if Feyd hadn't caught you in his arms.
You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as you breathe quickly. You look at each other for a moment, allowing yourself to immerse yourself in the closeness of the other one.
Feyd places his hand under your knees and picks you up in bridal style. He puts you on his bed again and pulls away to leave. You grab his elbow tightly and hold on, forcing him to stay by your side as you give him a desperate, pleading look for him not to leave you.
Feyd sighs, sitting next to you on the bed. He leans towards you and rests his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against yours. And you feel really calm for the first time in years.
"You have no idea... I have killed men for smaller things than that. The only reason you're still alive... is because I prefer to destroy you myself. Without the help of any sick rituals or poison. You'll be begging me to kill you, little witch. I'll make you go through the same damn pain you put me through. You'll be begging me to stop making you scream. Oh, and I'll make you scream much louder than becasue of this stupid ancient ritual."
You know he's mad at you. And he has every right to do so. But you can't take his words seriously. Not when you have irrefutable proof of the depth of his feelings for you. As he said, he killed for less. If he wanted to, he would have gotten rid of you or hurt you by now. But he didn't.
"I'll happily scream because of you, my Baron." You reply, placing your hands on his cheeks. You stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs, trying to memorise every little bit of his skin.
"I… I'm serious." He growls at you. He places his hand on your neck and squeezes it gently. You smile and press a kiss just near the corner of his mouth.
"Me too. Do it. Show me how loud you want me to scream for you." You challenge him, placing small kisses on his face.
"Y/N... I should have killed you ages ago, woman. You poisoned my mind, you stabbed me with a sword, you left me alone to deal with the mess you made, you forced me to worry about you while you slowly died in front of me day by day, and I couldn't do any-fucking-thing. So tell me, how can I get past this? Why is it that all I want to do is fuck you until I feel like you're really alive and around me?"
You bite your lip, trying not to moan at his words. You lick your lips and lean towards him, kissing him. He moans into your mouth and tries to pull away from you, but you grab his neck and pull him towards you. Your heart speeds up as your lips caress his as you give all of yourself to him in that kiss.
You gently massage his scalp and lie down on the pillows. You pull him with you as he starts to kiss you back. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pulls away from you with a growl and presses his forehead against yours, trying to calm down for your sake. After all, you had just woken up... too bad his cock wasn't as sympathetic to you as you rubbed against him.
"I… my mother was a Harkonnen, you know? Maybe that's why I was so drawn to you. Like calls to like or something like that." You gasp, remembering the memory you saw. Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise. A shiver runs across his skin, realising the power you've taken from Atreides.
"What else do you know?" He asks, caressing your cheek. You turn your head and press a kiss on the palm of his hand. You surprise him even more, but he's not going to protest when you show him affection. This was very rare in his life, and the fact that this small, voluntary gesture of adoration was coming from you made him even harder.
"That I don't want to lose you for some visions that may or may not happen. That you love me and that these months have been torture for you. That you hated me as much as you needed me to come back to you. That I… only want to think about us. I only care about our future, and I'm willing to watch this world burn if it means I can hold your hand until the end. with no fear that fate will make us hate each other. That I want you to be the only prophecy I care about."
"What about your escape from fate? You never wanted… to be part of this Kwisatz Haderach thing. Will you run away from me when you see that the path we are following leads inevitably to what you were so afraid of?"
His doubts are absolutely right. But that doesn't change the fact that you need him close to you right now. That you need his reassurance that everything will be fine, not his resentment. And you know it was wrong of you to demand from him things like that, but... nothing about your relationship was healthy anyway.
"Fuck it if I can't have us. Fuck it if I can't have you." You say and pull him in for another kiss. He moans in shock into your mouth but quickly responds to you with equal passion. You gasp as he grabs your waist tightly and lifts you up, making you sit on his lap.
"You said you love me." He gasps as he slowly removes your nightgown that he dressed you in himself.
"I did... I also stab you." You say as your hands reach up to start undressing him as well.
"You did. And you killed Atreides." He purrs against your jaw, placing kisses and hickeys there.
"I did." You groan, your hands shaking as you try to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.
"You handed me over to our people."
"I did. You are quite heavy." You giggle as he blows on your neck, tickling you, before sinking his teeth into it. You dig your fingers into his back, pulling him close to you.
"Why did you do this?" He asks, pulling away from you to look at you carefully, gauging your reaction, making sure you were always on his side, and doing everything for your mutual good. For his good.
"Because I decide about my fate. Not Bene Gesserit, not any Atreides, not you or anyone. Only me. And I want you. And love you. And need you. But only as my equal... and if you will have me."
"I won't let you go anymore." He warns, laying you down on the bed and towering over you.
"I will never want to leave." You promise, looking into his icy blue eyes and stroking the scar on his lower stomach—from the wound you gave him.
"Good."
"Good."
"Say it again."
"Good?" You ask teasingly, pressing kisses to his neck and giving him a few hickeys, marking him as yours with more than just his scars.
"No. You know what."
"I love you."
"About damn time." He growls, devouring your mouth. You moan as he bites into your lower lip. You both don't hold back anymore. Feyd marks you like a map, as if he wanted to memorise all the sensitive places that made you moan and writhe in pleasure, pressing into his muscled body.
You forget for a moment the whole world, everything you've done for him, everything you both should have discussed—all you can think about is Feyd. About wanting to be closer to him, about needing him as desperately as he needs you. So how can Feyd resist you when you're so willing to take him in? When he had dreamed of this moment for years? When can he finally satisfy his desire for your body?
He trails his kisses lower, gently taking your nipple into his mouth and cupping your other breast, massaging it. You moan, scratching his scalp, throwing your head back against the pillows, and grinding your hips against his.
You're both starting to get annoyed by the underwear that's preventing you from clinging to each other the way you want. Feyd rips your panties off of you, wasting no time in pushing his fingers into you. You whine, thrashing around on the bed, wanting more and yet too sensitive for anything else. You open your eyes and gasp at the sight of his full, erect length rubbing against your thigh. Feyd pinches your nipple, making you moan and shifting your gaze to him.
"Eyes on me, little witch."
"But... ach!" You moan as his fingers speed up inside you, tears forming in your eyes as your hips move in time with the rhythm of his fingers as you chase your orgasm.
"Listen to your Baron. Eyes on me." He pauses to slap your pussy. You moan, biting your lower lip. "And don't hold back any sounds. Or I'll punish you like I should have since you woke up."
It's very hard to keep your eyes open for him. Especially when his fingers massage your clit so perfectly and fill you up. You reach your hand to his hard cock on your thigh and rub it gently.
He growls, kissing you hard and punishingly, as you try to speed things up and make him lunge at you in a frenzy of lust, when he wants to tease your pussy and punish you accordingly first.
For a month he waited by your bedside, bravely holding you through the stages of your screams and high fevers, making sure you were alive, breathing, and your heart was beating in a rhythm he had memorized. He deserves to have some fun with you...
"Feyd... please..." Your moans, the kisses you place on his jaw, and the way your fingers caress the scar on his muscled stomach—the one you gave him yourself—make him lose his restraint, which was already frail and weak. At least that's how he explains his desire to immediately fulfill your wish.
His arms wrap around you tightly as he gently pushes into you, making sure his entire alabaster length will fit inside you. He stops, cursing in his tongue and resting his forehead against yours as he gives you a moment to adjust to his length. Finally. He finally feels you all around him. And you're tighter than he dreamed.
"Damn… you little witch…"
"I know..." You gasp, wrapping your arms around him, and kiss him hungrily, basking in the feeling of fullness as his length perfectly fills the void inside you. It's warm. It's nice to feel him so close to you. It's nice to be with him. You moan as he starts to move slowly, testing how far he can go.
Feyd growls, picking up his pace when you don't protest, his hips bucking wildly against yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.
He grips one of your hips and cups your cheek with the other, making sure your eyes are focused on him. He kisses away the tears streaming down your cheek, licking them off your face. He kisses you fervently and hungrily, catching every moan and grunt you make as his hips grind against yours. A wet sound echoes through the room, occasionally interrupted by a moan from either of you as you finally come together in the most primal, animalistic way, demanding each other.
"Mine. Only mine." Feyd growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful Baroness. Fuck. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around his chambers.
"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. I will never let you escape again, I will never again let you out of my sight for more than a second, I will never again let you fight against the world and fate alone. We are the two sides of the same coin... WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.
You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss.
And for that moment you knew what cosmic love really meant. And you would fight with anyone to be able to experience it whenever you wanted.
"I love you." Feyd whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple and tightening his grip around you.
He slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you, still holding you in the iron grip of his arms. You lazily snuggle into him and trace the scar you gave him with the fingertip of your finger. Guilt grows within you, and for a moment, you think that he purposely allowed this scar to remind you of what you did.
You decide to talk to him about everything tomorrow. It was just the two of you for now, and you were going to enjoy this as long as you could. You place your head into the crook of his neck and take his hand in yours. You tangle his other hand in your hair and snuggle into him, sighing as you feel his touch, warmth, and scent around you.
You both fall asleep cuddled together. And for a moment, you allow yourself to be in bliss of his touch and closeness, not worrying about any politics or issues that you should discuss instead of... giving in to something you have wanted for a long time.
From now on, you decide your fate.
Only you and Feyd.
That's why you make sure that your first child will be a daughter.
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Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren
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moldycheezeit · 8 days ago
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Chapter 2
hi uh this took longer then it was supposed to because of my SAT testing and I'm having to study for my history STAAR (Texas state testing) then after that my finals so hopefully I survive.
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Let's skip to a couple months later because I’m not writing all that. Also this isn't following the mcu nor the DC storyline.
You were currently in New York helping Tony with the gadgets he makes. Well that’s what you do part of the time the other part you hang around avengers tower. And currently you and a certain spider hero. who you see as an older brother, an annoying one but still a brother. Peter knew you saw him as such and he was proud of it. That he was the brother you chose HIM and not those stupid birds that were your so-called brothers. But ignoring that you were trying to make cookies. Damn do they look bad. “How do they look, peanut ?” Peter asked proudly. “I’m gonna be honest with you, you're terrible at getting the measurements right, I thought you were supposed to be smart.” You had replied while looking at the supposed cookie goop with disgust. “ Well damn screw you too I guess, maybe we can still save it…” Peter had said.
You might be wondering why you are here and does anyone know. Well after you won Tony gave you his card just in case you ever wanted to intern under him. With that he left, I mean he gave the other winners the same card, but you saw it as a great opportunity. So you unenrolled out for Gotham high. It was quite easy because You knew how to forage Bruce’s signature and It wasn’t as complicated as unenrolling out of a school like Gotham prep. Not like Bruce would notice anyways. Anyways, you took the internship and started staying in New York with Tony. while staying with him he started seeing you more like a daughter then an intern. Being around you made him feel more paternal but not in a normal way. Over time he realized he feels protective of you and never wants to let you go, and when I say never I mean NEVER. He doesn't understand how your family ignored and neglected you. You're the one of the best things that ever happened to him. Alright let's pretend we didn't see that and go back to the present. :)
“I mean if we add more flour we could probably save it.” You looked at Peter while saying. “But next time don't try to be stupid and wing it!” You had now started hitting him with the baking mitt that was next to you. “Hey stop that! it was an accident!” He tried to apologize while shielding his face from your rath. “What are you two doing?” The familiar voice of Tony had said. You turned to look at him and annoyingly said “Peter didn’t get the measurements right for the cookies we were supposed to be making but instead it turned into a gooey mess.” You were about to show him the bowl, but then you realized it was gone. “Hey where did it go?” You had started looking around we’re it just was. Peter had responded “oh I put it in the freezer to see if it would harden up so we could use it.” You couldn’t help but huff then look at Tony. “Do you need help with anything, because if not I’ll just go hang out in my room.” “Nah kid I’m fine right now” Tony said while smiling at you. With that you walked away. In the distance you hear your ‘brother’ yell “you’re just gonna leave me! Fine, I'll hang out with my friends then.”
You had gotten to the room Tony gave you. It had a desk, bookshelves, and had maps on the walls. You could never get why but you loved drawing them. It kinda helped you to decide to improve your gauntlet for communicating and basically having a gps. Ignoring all of it you decided to call Kidd, the guy who won 3rd place, because after the competition was over you two made good friends.(someone asked for this and I thought it would be cool, rip if I forget this) The call hadn’t been connected, then you remembered he said he had to get surgery for his arm today so he won’t be answering. He had told you something happened to his arm so they have to amputate it. That's basically the whole reason he built that robotic arm. Now sitting in silence you start thinking about your life currently. You got this amazing opportunity to work with Tony Stark and you can’t lie you see him more as a dad then you even saw Bruce. Instead of dealing with all your brothers who don’t like you, you have Peter who actually loves hanging out with you. While in your thoughts you didn't hear the door to your room open. Tony walks in and sits on your bed, and when you feel the dip in the bed you realize he’s in the room. You look at him and he starts speaking. “Hey peanut are you doing ok you seem kinda quiet lately.” “I’m ok it’s just been weird dealing with all these things I’ve never experienced before when I was in Gotham…” you had said quietly. Tony places his hand on your head and comforts you in his own way. After a long silence he starts talking. “I came here for another reason. I have a question for you bub and you can say yes or no I’ll be fine with it.” He takes in a deep breath as you wait for it with anticipation. “Do you wish to join the avengers..with the rise of villains I want to keep you safe and I feel like joining us would help you. You don’t have to do any missions. You can stay here and be like our tech girl, but I’ll also have you trained in case something comes up where you do need to fight.” But what you didn't know was that his real reason for it was to keep you near him so you couldn't leave. I mean why would you, you're his precious daughter after all. It was quiet for a moment and you had answered. “Yea, I’ll do it.”
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“Tony, why is Natasha here?” “She’s going to teach you how to fight, or in other words self defense.” All three of you were in one of the towers' training rooms. You look at Nat as she smiles at you. “Alright I’ll leave you to it.” He says before he leaves. He already told Natasha not to hurt you too badly. Now why would he want his little peanut to get really hurt, no father would want that for their daughter. Nat turns to look at you and says “alright let’s start off with the basics.”
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You had been training with Natasha for a month now, and she’s taught you a good portion of what she knows. Currently she’s helping you defend yourself from an attacker with a knife. “ Let's start with how to fight against someone wielding a blade. (y/n) try attacking me.” You look down at the fake knife in your hand then back up at her.“ Are you sure?” she tells you “there's no need to hold back” “all right here I come” you say right before you run at her swinging the knife wildly. “When someone's waving a knife around, keep your distance. If they attack directly, plant one leg and use it to pivot and dodge, then grab their wrist and back at the same time and slam them to the ground.” She explains as she does the motions on you. (yes I did take this from the scene where gunhead is teaching uraraka how to fight (ᵕ—ᴗ—)) “ ow.. that kinda hurts.” “Well it's not supposed to feel good.” Natasha smiles at you as you get up from the floor. “Alright we’re done for today's training. You're doing good, peanut.” Upon hearing that you rush out of the room as fast as your sore body could carry you. As soon as you made it back to your room you laid on your bed, just laying there that's all. Not knowing there were cameras watching your every move. Your dear old man had put them in your room after he found out his big little obsession with you. But he doesn't watch you get changed or anything, he just wants to know what you're doing 24/7 to make sure you're safe. While laying on your bed you accidentally fell asleep. You know I wonder what's happening right now in Gotham?
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The manor is quiet, it normally is but for the past few months it's been eerily quiet. Like there was supposed to be something there but it's not there. Currently Tim was walking around the manor looking for a place to possibly nap seeing as his room is filled with his tech and it’s all noisy. Then he came across a room that was slightly ajar. It was on the other side of the manor. When he opened it there was a bedroom, it was the same size as another guest room in the manor. But it looked like it was lived in at one point in time. The more he was in the room the more familiar it seemed. He felt as if he knew who once lived within these walls. That's when he stopped at the closet. Something tempted him to open it, so with his natural curiosity he did. What he found inside was old boxes, some filled with awards and medals while others filled with old clothes, pictures, and books. As he snooped through them he was surprised someone other than him had won all these awards and the family never noticed. On all the trophies he kept seeing the name (y/n). ‘Why did that name sound so familiar?’ he thought while moving to another box. This time it had some pictures. At first he saw a picture of a beautiful woman, Bruce's dead wife. He knows who she is by the many paintings of her in the manor, specifically the one in his office. The further he got in the box the more he saw pictures of this girl, who looks like a younger version of the woman in the pictures. As he picked up one picture and looked at it, he froze. It was the girl, who he presumes is (y/n), and recognizes her. It's an old picture from when she was much younger but he remembers her face a slight bit, but that's because every time he saw her it would be with discussed in his eyes. He doesn't remember why he would look at her that way. She never did anything wrong to him. She was just a little girl who wanted someone who loved her. It caused him to feel guilt in his heart. He had to fix this without the family knowing. He had to find (y/n) and fix this. And with that he took some of her things in a box he dumped out and headed to his room to find his little sister.
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Hopefully you guys liked it (ㅅ´ ˘ `)
I’m sorry I made you wait so long. ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა
Taglist : @cxcilla @starslightzz @jackchanzzz @simpingpandas @galaxypurplerose @spqce-buns @peche4et3chocolat @ryuushou @moon0goddess @fanficloverlol @tinybrie @victoria1676 @r-u-s-s-i-a-h @lostsomewhereinthegarden @h-ib @xheri122 @0sunnyside01 @momentomoribitch @1abi @redsakura101 @mariadvorak @awawage @crazycaoticsimp @jsprien213 @vanessa-boo @alishii @xzmickeyzx @sirenetheblogger @bunniotomia
Omg so many of you guys ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
Also guys does anyone know how to make a master list? I wanna make one so people don’t have to scroll through my post trying to look for stuff.
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago
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Lookism: "No thank you! I have a partner!"
Silly. G/N. Y'all probably seen the meme. Your partner comes home drunk and doesn't recognise you. Masterlists
Gun Park, Ryuhei Kuroda, Goo Kim, DG, Vin Jin, Jake Kim, Samuel Seo
Loud scratching and thumps at your front door wakes you. You wonder whether to arm yourself with a frying pan and then you hear your boyfriend muttering slurred profanities.
A loud bang reverberates through your home as he stumbles, drunk, through the door.
With a sigh, you crawl out of bed to check the state they're in.
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Gun gazes at you, bleary-eyed and half focused. Slightly swaying on his feet, a very unusual sight of someone usually in full control of their body.
Then something clicks in his brain, eyes hardening just before he looks away. He tells you, tone disinterested, that he's a taken man.
"I don't know how I ended up here, but don't get the wrong idea."
He turns around, exits his own living room, exits his own home, and sleeps outside the apartment in the hallway instead.
.
.
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"Yeah you're pretty cute," Ryuhei mumbles, words slurring together, "But my partner is cuter."
He pulls his phone out, drops it twice, unlocks it on the third attempt and shows you a picture - one that you have seen, actually one that you took of him smooching you on the cheek.
"Aren't they cute?" He beams, utterly besotted. "Let me just crash here," he says as he collapses on the sofa. "If you touch me I'll scream."
.
.
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"Get your hands off me!" Goo screeches, slapping you away as you try to undress him and get him ready for bed. "My my, you're forward aren't you?"
Goo leans forward and gives you a smile halfway between utterly charming and complete sleazeball.
Then, all bravado evaporates and he sighs.
"Oh sweetheart you would be just my type, but," he pushes you off the bed, "I'm taken and very happy about it."
He lies down, burritoing himself and turning his back to you. "You can make your own way out."
.
.
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Vin fiddles with his sunglasses, peering approvingly at you.
Even in his drunken haze he can tell that damn, you're fine. Except. He is also lucid enough to realise he is not looking respectfully anymore and he thinks of you, his ride or die, and his face completely changes.
He frowns and asks you what the hell you are looking at. That you have no chance. He has a partner at home that is much hotter, much better, thank you very much and yeah he's an asshole but he's not going to cheat so back the fuck off.
You roll your eyes, hackles would have been much higher if he wasn't actually being sweet in his own way.
.
.
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DG takes a moment to process the situation. And when he does, he gets it completely wrong.
He plasters on his k-pop smile. The one reserved for winning over fans, interviewers and for his insincere apology videos.
"Did you want an autograph?" He pulls out a photocard from his inner pocket and a pen (and wow, you did not realise he carried a stack of his photos. You are not going to let him live this down) and scribbles his signature that comes with some love hearts and sparkles and passes it over to you.
"Here you go," he holds it out to you in both hands, not before mumbling under his breath, "You're cute but shit if you turn into another stalker..."
.
.
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Jake is already asleep on the sofa by the time you pad out, which must be some super power in itself.
"Wake up," You give his shoulder a shake. He frowns, then cracks one eye open. "Come to bed."
He grunts something indecipherable and attempts to roll his oversized frame on your undersized sofa.
"Jake, cmon."
You start to drag him to your bedroom, your touch finally waking something inside and he bolts upright, removing your hands firmly off him.
"I have a partner." He tells you with no room for any misinterpretation. "But," he scratches absentmindedly at his stomach, "Do you have any food?"
.
.
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Samuel does as he's told. Obediently removing his trousers, and unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off-
(Truly, you had no ulterior motive, you just wanted to remove the stink of alcohol.)
When, maybe for the first time in his life, he is afflicted with modesty and a startling clarity.
He yanks his shirt back on and pulls his trousers on with surprisingly sober efficiency.
"Absolutely not," he glowers at you, "This is not happening. I'm taken."
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chelseaknoo · 6 months ago
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Hiii I love ur ficsss
Can u do a 2000 Eminem x latina/singer ???
2000s Eminem x Latina singer! Reader
Note:I wanted to make this fic like the other fic that I made.
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You’re in your twenties, with a few years of experience already under your belt in the music industry. It’s been a whirlwind ride of late nights in the studio, long days on tour, and the thrill of live performances that leave you breathless. Tonight, you’re preparing for another show, meticulously applying your makeup in front of a mirror. The familiar buzz of a nearby radio fills the dressing room with a mix of chart-topping hits and hip-hop beats. It’s just background noise—until a new track begins to play
She's got curves in all the right places, and a smile that can light up the night,
I'd do anything to be with her, to hold her tight.
I dream about her every night, and think about her all day,
I'd give anything to be with her, to make her mine in every way.
Hearing it, you’re momentarily stunned—this is Eminem, known for his raw candor and biting verses, rarely this personal. Fans and media latch on, fueling speculation. For you, it’s a mix of flattery and curiosity, leaving you to wonder about the intent behind his words as they echo through your world.
You were performing at a festival, a massive event where music fans gathered from all over, creating a charged atmosphere that crackled with energy. It was one of the biggest performances of your career so far, and you’d just finished checking your setlist when word came through the grapevine: Eminem was also performing. The realization sent a thrill down your spine. After his recent track where he’d dropped your name with lyrics that had set the rumor mill ablaze, you knew there was a chance you might cross paths.
During Eminem’s performance, the energy was palpable. The crowd was on fire, hanging onto every lyric he delivered with his signature intensity and precision. Midway through his set, the beat shifted, and you recognized the opening notes immediately—it was the song he’d written about you. The realization sent a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but feel both flattered and completely taken off guard.
As the track played, the massive screen behind him lit up with visuals. To your surprise, a snippet from one of your own music videos appeared. It was you—dancing, singing, completely in your element. The image faded in and out, perfectly synced to the lyrics he was delivering. The crowd erupted, clearly catching the connection and loving every second of it.
You felt your heart race as you stood there, unable to take your eyes off the screen or him. The mix of admiration and boldness in his performance was undeniable—he’d just laid it all out there, right in front of thousands of fans. You pressed your fingertips to your lips, feeling the heat in your face as you blushed deeply. It was surreal, having someone like Eminem make such a public declaration, and for a moment, you were overwhelmed by a mix of embarrassment, pride, and something far more personal.
As you made your way backstage, the crowd’s cheers outside provided a distant, rhythmic roar. The corridors were a chaotic mix of performers, stagehands, and crew members hurrying by. Just as you reached a quieter corner, you saw him—Eminem, unmistakable in his hoodie and baseball cap, talking with his team. For a second, your heart stopped. The man behind the lyrics was just a few feet away.
He caught sight of you, paused, and then walked over, his eyes holding a glimmer of curiosity mixed with that familiar intensity. You met him halfway, every step feeling like a blend of surreal anticipation and adrenaline.
You’re in your twenties, a seasoned performer in the music industry, and tonight, you're at one of the biggest festivals of the year. The air buzzes with excitement, the ground vibrating beneath your feet as crowds scream for the next artist to take the stage. You can hear the faint pulse of the music outside as you finish your makeup in front of a backstage mirror, perfecting the final details of your look. The lights reflect off your eyes, capturing the adrenaline coursing through you.
But the excitement of the night isn't just about the performance. Earlier today, a new track dropped on the radio, and to your surprise, it featured none other than Eminem—mentioning you in his lyrics. His words have been replaying in your mind, each line burning themselves deeper with every replay:
*“She's got curves in all the right places, and a smile that can light up the night,
I'd do anything to be with her, to hold her tight.
I dream about her every night, and think about her all day,
I'd give anything to be with her, to make her mine in every way.”*
Hearing those lines for the first time left you stunned, a rush of disbelief mixed with flattery. Eminem, one of the most respected names in the game, had woven you into his story with words that were both bold and unmistakably personal.
Before long, you’re backstage at the festival, preparing to take the stage. The crew members buzz around, checking equipment and making sure everything runs smoothly. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts, and you can sense him even before you see him—Eminem is here. He walks in with a confident stride, his presence magnetic and undeniable, his signature hoodie and serious expression unmistakable.
He spots you, and for a brief moment, his gaze softens, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. He approaches, and the noise around you seems to fade away.
"Hey," he says, his voice low but carrying over the hum of the backstage commotion. "I guess you heard the track."
You smile, trying to play it cool despite your racing heart. "Kinda hard to miss when you’re broadcasting my personal life to the world, don’t you think?"
He chuckles, a genuine sound that catches you off guard. "Guilty as charged," he admits. "I meant every word, though."
There’s a beat of silence between you two, heavy with a mix of tension and curiosity. You search his eyes, trying to read the man behind the verses that caught you off guard.
"So," you say, breaking the silence and tilting your head playfully, "was that your way of asking me out, or do you just enjoy making things complicated?"
He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe a little of both. Keeps things interesting."
Before you can respond, a stagehand interrupts, letting you know it’s almost time for you to go on. Eminem steps back but not before leaning in, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath.
"Break a leg out there," he murmurs, his voice just for you. "I’ll be watching."
With that, he turns away, leaving you with a pounding heart and a renewed energy. As you make your way toward the stage, you can’t help but smile, knowing that tonight's performance—and whatever happens next—just got a whole lot more interesting.
With that, you stepped onto the stage, the festival’s energy washing over you like a wave. The world might have gone wild for his lyrics, but now you had a story unfolding that was just yours—and it was only beginning.
Eminem stood backstage, his eyes locked on you as you took command of the stage. He had seen countless performers before, but there was something different about you—something captivating. The way you moved, the fluid grace with which you danced, and the effortless confidence you exuded as you sang each note—it all seemed to pull him in, leaving him momentarily spellbound.
The lights cast a glow around you, accentuating every curve of your body as you swayed in rhythm with the music. Your energy was electric, and it radiated out to the audience, who moved and sang along with you, completely entranced. Eminem found himself leaning forward, his focus narrowing to just you. Every step you took, every flick of your wrist, every note you hit—it all carried a magnetic power that he couldn't tear himself away from.
He watched the way your eyes sparkled as you connected with the crowd, how your smile lit up your entire face, adding an extra layer of vibrancy to your performance. There was a raw authenticity in how you poured yourself into every lyric, and he couldn't help but admire it. To him, it was as if you weren’t just performing—you were telling a story, one that demanded to be heard and felt.
"She's good," he muttered to himself, barely noticing the words slipping out. But it was more than just skill. There was something intangible—a spark that made you shine brighter than the stage lights themselves.
When you spun around and your gaze briefly flickered toward backstage, catching sight of him, a knowing smile played on your lips. For a heartbeat, it felt like time slowed down. He felt a rush of something unfamiliar—equal parts admiration and intrigue.
As the final beats of your song echoed and the crowd erupted in cheers, Eminem couldn't help but smile, his awe evident. You took a bow, breathing heavily but radiating pride. And as you walked off the stage, he knew one thing for certain: you weren’t just another artist on the lineup. You were someone unforgettable.
As you stepped off the stage, the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears, you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your heart was pounding, and your chest rose and fell with each deep breath as you tried to ground yourself after the electrifying performance. As you made your way backstage, wiping a sheen of sweat from your forehead, your gaze fell on Eminem.
He was standing off to the side, his eyes fixed intently on you. There was no mistaking the look in them—complete awe and genuine admiration. He seemed mesmerized, as if he was replaying every moment of your performance in his head. For a second, you locked eyes, the world around you fading away. The intensity of his stare made your pulse quicken, but you managed to keep your composure.
A playful, almost shy smile curved your lips. You held his gaze for a moment longer, letting the connection linger before breaking it with a soft laugh. Then, with a casual flick of your hair, you turned and began walking toward your dressing room, your team moving around you like a wave of support. You could feel the weight of his attention, even as you walked away.
Inside the dressing room, you exhaled, your reflection in the mirror still glowing from the thrill of the stage and the encounter. As you fixed your hair and adjusted your outfit, you couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes on you, the way it made you feel seen—not just as a performer, but as something more. It was a moment that would linger, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.
As you touch up your makeup in the mirror, perfecting every detail, you take a moment to admire your reflection. The adrenaline from the performance still buzzes through your veins, and the roar of the crowd echoes in your ears. Just as you pick up your brush to fix a final smudge, the door behind you opens. You barely register it, assuming it’s someone from your team.
“Nice show out there.”
The unexpected sound of his voice makes you jump. Turning quickly, you find yourself face-to-face with Marshall—Eminem. There’s a spark of amusement in his eyes as he leans casually against the doorframe. You try to steady your breath, suppressing the thrill running through you.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he adds with a smirk. “Well, maybe a little.”
“Mission accomplished,” you reply, recovering with a smile. “But thanks. Glad you caught it.”
He walks over, closing the door behind him. The air between you grows charged. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you can see the flecks of gray in his eyes.
“You’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger out there,” he says, his voice low. “Kinda impressive.”
“Is that a compliment?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Coming from you, I’ll take it.”
“Yeah? You should.” He steps even closer, and suddenly, his hands are on your waist. Without warning, he lifts you effortlessly, placing you on top of the desk. You barely have time to catch your breath as he moves between your legs, his presence overwhelming, his gaze intense.
“You always surprise me,” you murmur, feeling your pulse quicken.
“Good,” he replies, his lips curving into a slow smile. “I plan to keep it that way.” He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “But you know,” he adds softly, “seeing you like this, up close? Way better than any stage.”
Before you can respond, his lips find yours. The kiss is firm and confident, with just a hint of the hunger simmering beneath the surface. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the connection, losing yourself in the moment. Time seems to slow, the world outside the door fading away until it’s just the two of you.
When he pulls back, there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for that,” he admits, his voice husky.
“Were those lyrics just an elaborate setup?” you tease, still catching your breath.
“Maybe,” he says with a grin, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Worked, didn’t it?”
You laugh, the sound light and easy, feeling the tension melt away. “I guess it did.”
His hands linger at your waist, fingers tracing idle patterns. “I’d say we make a pretty good duet.”
“Is that your way of saying you want more?” you challenge, feeling bold.
“Definitely,” he murmurs, leaning in again. “And I’m just getting started.”
As Marshall’s lips trail down your neck, a soft sigh escapes your lips. His hands rest firmly on your waist, pulling you closer as you run your fingers through his hair. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, and every touch, every breath, feels electric. The room seems to shrink around you, narrowing your focus to just him—until the door suddenly swings open.
“Yo, Marshall, you ready for—oh, hell no.”
You both freeze. Turning your heads simultaneously, you spot Proof standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised, a mix of shock and amusement playing across his face. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene—Marshall standing between your legs, hands still on your hips, your flushed faces. There’s a beat of silence, and then Proof bursts out laughing.
“Oh, this is rich,” Proof says, leaning against the doorframe and shaking his head. “Am I interrupting something? Nah, scratch that. I know I’m interrupting something.”
Marshall lets out a low groan, pulling back slightly but keeping his hands firmly on you. “Man, do you ever knock?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of a grin tugging at his lips.
“Marshall, you ready to go out and celebrate? The night’s still young."
Marshall doesn’t even look up at him, his focus entirely on you as he steps closer. He takes a slow breath, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Celebrate, huh? Nah, I think I’ll pass on that. I’ve got better plans tonight.”
Proof raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"
Marshall’s lips curve into a flirtatious smile as he moves even closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "I’d rather spend the night with her, if you don’t mind." His eyes lock onto yours, a heat building between you both as his gaze lingers, making it clear he’s not just talking about any casual hangout.
You feel your heart skip a beat as Marshall leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. "She’s the one I’m celebrating with tonight," he adds, his tone rich with intent, sending a shiver down your spine.
Proof chuckles, looking between the two of you, clearly understanding what’s going on. "Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll leave you two to it. Just don’t keep me waiting too long." He smirks, walking toward the door. “But you owe me a drink later, man.”
Marshall barely acknowledges him, his attention fixed on you. As Proof exits, Marshall turns back, that same smirk never leaving his face. “Now, where were we?” he says, his tone both playful and hungry, eyes never leaving yours. <3
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dontbesoweirdkira · 5 months ago
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Can you please write for a yandere NWH Peter Parker x reader who is smarter than him? Like they knew right away he was stalking them and played along?
Also omg I can't believe we are mutuals now, I adore your page so much <3
A/N: I hope I understood your ask properly. Aww that's super sweet! I try to follow back people who interact with my content a lot and show support back! Glad we are moots too. <3
Warnings: mentions of stalking..
Masterlist
Requests: open
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Okay i'm going to say on record that if I *had* to have one of the Peters as a stalker...I would want it to be his. Not because I'm a fan girl of Tom or anything but his Peter is by far the most harmless. Like if I saw Tobey's or Insomniac's spiderman stalking me, I'd be absolutely terrified. Tom's Peter is just a ray sunshine and rainbows lollll
Here's the thing, Peter cannot be stealthy to save his life. Which is rather ironic because as spiderman, he is insanely cunning...
Maybe at first he's able to tiptoe around you a little better. You might notice his presence oddly always being around,,,even at places you know he'd never go to but you brush it off. In the beginning his obsession is more like a subtle crush. He doesn't particularly act out of the ordinary when he's around you. Awkwardness, stuttering, poorly witted banter are all Peter's signature when speaking to anyone.
But you still take a mental note of his light stalking.
As he spirals deeper and his attraction towards you becomes more obvious, you know for sure that he's stalking you. It's even become more frequent. Like I said this Peter is so harmless that you just find his behaviors to be more amusing than anything. It's funny because you can tell that he thinks he's being inconspicuous but his gooey smile alone is enough to give him away. lol
You probably don't do anything about it at first, he's not really hurting you. The man just is lovesick..but maybe eventually you decide to have a bit of fun with it.
It becomes a game of making Peter as flustered as possible. Like you'll purposefully wonder into dead-ends, secluded or intimate places (libraries, locker rooms, underwear stores ect) just to catch him in the act and be like "Oh hey Pete!....whatcha doing here?" It's fun watching him freak out and created some stupid excuse. You always act oblivious and go along with his answers.
Sometimes you'll touch caress his arm, ruffle his hair, and make intentional eye contact to watch him squirm. Even choosing more endearing words that you know he'll hang on to. He's probably convinced himself that you are falling in love back. Do you understand what you are truly doing to him??
Maybe you purposefully leave your house unlocked on your blinds open to make his endeavors a bit easier. You're curious to see if he'd be willing to go far enough to actually go in your house... or photograph you from outside..
As light as he is with his steps, you can feel his presence over you as he's watching you rest...
You notice things going missing from your drawers..
It intrigues you as you watch him go from being a total creep behind you back to acting innocent in your face. He easily falls right into your traps. It's almost painful how gullible and clueless he is.
You kind of don't want to give up your act as you've become obsessed with him in your own way. Maybe not in love but just with the peculiarity of the situation... No one would believe you if you told them about this whole thing. If you weren't so calculated about it, you probably would've thought you were insane too.
It was hard not to laugh in his face when he asked for your address to pick you up for a date when you know for a fact he knows the layout of your house like the back of his hand.
Maybe you do end up giving up your cover one day. You know that he's hiding in your closet, watching you study when you finally blurt out..
"Peter, it's been months now. I know you've been stalking me. I know you're hiding in here, you can come out."
Can you imagine the pure look of fear and guilt on his face.. Peter doesn't even know how to react. Like he's fully freaking out in the closet and you can here his little curses and shuffling. He's so adorbs. "Peter...just come out" he says something stupid like "uhh it's not Peter it's...Ignacio, your....cleaning lady..??" He eventually comes out and he feels far too guilty to even look at you. If he had a tail it's be between his legs ahhh... He's completely convinced that you are going to tell him to stay away from you or yell at him.. Like it's so embarrassing how slick he thought he was.
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jjjjeonww · 2 months ago
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lee woozi - "me or vernon?"
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featuring lee jihoon and you.
~~in which, you're a fan of vernon even though you're woozi's girlfriend. ~~fluff.
word count: 893. a/n: THIS MAY SEEM LIKE SMUT BC OF THE HEADER BUT IT ISNT I SWEAR!!! and this is sooo painfully obvious that this is for @rosiemain . (you got da ruby roz :3) (vernon is mentioned in this fic, but isn't actually in it.)
...
You had been dating Woozi for a while now, and while you loved him deeply, you couldn't deny that you had always been particularly drawn to Vernon, your boyfriend's fellow bandmate. Vernon's charm, wit, and undeniable good looks had always caught your attention, even though you would never act on it. You valued your relationship with Woozi too much to ever betray his trust.
One evening, as you and Woozi cuddled on the couch watching TV, you hesitantly brought up the topic that had been on your mind. "Woozi, I have a favor to ask," you began, tracing patterns on his chest with your finger. "It's about Vernon..."
Woozi tensed slightly, a flicker of jealousy flashing in his eyes. "What about him?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light. He knew how much you admired Vernon, but he hoped your feelings stopped at that.
You looked up at Woozi, your expression earnest. "I was wondering if... if you could give me Vernon's signature? I know it's silly, but I've always wanted one, and I thought it would be nice to have it."
Woozi was silent for a moment, weighing your request. He knew he should feel threatened, but seeing the hopeful look in your eyes, he couldn't bring himself to say no. He sighed, pulling you closer. "Okay, I guess I can ask him for you. But only because I love you and want to make you happy," he said, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.
You beamed at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug. "Thank you, Woozi! You're the best boyfriend ever," you gushed, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Woozi smiled back, but internally, he made a silent vow. He would do everything in his power to be the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. If Vernon's signature was what you wanted, he would get it for you. But he also needed to step up his game, to show you why you should only have eyes for him.
Over the next few weeks, Woozi threw himself into writing songs for you. He poured his heart and soul into each lyric, determined to create a collection that would make you forget about any other man, including Vernon. He wrote about your love, your laughter, everything about you. ...
He had spent countless late nights hunched over his guitar, his fingers flying across the strings as he lost himself in the music. He wrote about stolen glances, secret smiles, and the way your hand fit perfectly in his own. Each song was a testament to his love for you, a dedication to the incredible woman who had captured his heart.
Sometimes, Woozi would wake up with a lyric already forming in his mind, a perfect way to express the way he felt about you. Other times, he would be in the middle of his daily routine - even brushing his teeth became a moment of inspiration, with him suddenly pausing to jot down a clever turn of phrase. No matter where he was or what he was doing, Woozi was always thinking about you, always finding new ways to pour his love into his music.
He knew that his jealousy over Vernon still lingered, but he was determined not to let it consume him. Instead, he channeled those feelings into his art, writing songs that explored the depths of his love and his desire to keep you by his side forever. Each track was another reminder of his commitment to you, his promise to be the man you deserved.
As the weeks went by, Woozi's collection of songs for you grew. He had ballads that spoke of his undying devotion, upbeat pop tracks that captured the joy you brought into his life, and even a few edgier songs that hinted at the passion smoldering beneath the surface of your relationship. Each one was a piece of his heart, a fragment of his soul laid bare on the page.
One evening, as you lay together in bed, Woozi pulled out a small, leather-bound journal filled with his song lyrics. "I have something for you," he said softly, pressing the book into your hands. "I wrote all of these for you, my love. Each song is a piece of my heart, my promise to always be here for you."
You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise and a growing sense of awe. You flipped through the pages, reading the lyrics that spoke of your love story, your laughter, and your dreams for the future. With each page, you could feel Woozi's love radiating off the words, a tangible force that made your heart swell with emotion.
"Woozi, this is... this is incredible," you whispered. His expression was smug as hell. And for a moment you question it before going back to reading his lyrics. 'Ding!' your brain suddenly knew why he had written all of these songs.
He would write you songs, it was normal, but would he show them to you with such smugness imprinted on his face? Nope. "Babe... Are you showing me this because of Vernon?" "No... What makes you think that?" "...Jihoon tell me the truth." He takes the book and runs away immediately, hiding his shyness which was so painfully obvious. "LEE JIHOON GET BACK HERE!!!" And you run after him.
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