#but by the end of the month he probably can hardly stand to have you touch him aifheiakqi

[willowser]

so we've talked about Bakugou not making it through nnn. We've talked about Sero, Denki, Izuku, and Shouto also failing. Is Kiri the only one who makes it through? by sheer willpower? jumping you when it's 00:01 on December 1st?

you know what, i think at least one of them has to make it through, and consider kirishima is packing some serious heat and is probably real serious about foreplay — i think he could do it !!

and i think it's like. no nut november. but that doesn't mean he can't spend a few hours with you in your bed or on the couch or on the counter 😌 and he's probably edging himself to all hell, but !! i think that's the only thing that could help him make it !!!! and then december 1st it's!! go time !!!!

[captainreecejames]

Can't Have a Good Thing || My ex is a footballer LS2 edition

[masterlist][my ex series masterlist]

summary you go from dating an american footballer to an american driver

pairings ex!christian pulisic x reader, logan sargeant x reader

warnings probably a little anti pulisic but i still love my baby

notes pictures are from pinterest so thank you to all those lovely users (as I wrote this my english teacher from 11th grade came into my job and it was not fun!)

May 2023 ynusername posted -------

liked by cmpulisic, reece and others

ynusername final chelsea game of the season, love you guys

chelseafc awww we love you too yn ❤️ by author

cmpulisic always love having you there ↳ ynusername wouldn't want to be anywhere else

username1 look at my girl dawg, chelsea is embarrassing her ↳ username2 please, christian didn't even play

reece once a blue always a blue ↳ username3 NAH WHY IS THIS SO CRYPTIC ↳ username4 you can't say shit like this then leave DUDE

username5 that chrisyn interaction screams for help ↳ username6 i wouldn't be surprised if they're not dating anymore but trying to keep up appearances ↳ username7 breakup statement incoming ↳ username8 can we get fabrizio to comment on wag breakups please!! ↳ username7 lol can you imagine a here we go! breakup is official! peak comedy

cesarazpilicueta 💙 ↳ ynusername love you too capitan!

July 2023 real life ---------

It’s been a rough few months in the house for the two of you. Christian’s time at Chelsea was most likely coming to an end, and you had just started a new project at work, so your time was filled with that. Nights spent making dinner and laughing together turned to plates left in the microwave and lights out early. Mornings started with short wake up kisses to hardly whispered goodbyes.

In fewer words, the relationship was falling apart. You barely knew what was going on in each others lives anymore, it’s no surprise when he tells you he’s leaving Chelsea.

Chris is still in Florida with his family, enjoying the last few days off before preseason. You had been with him for the 4th of July, but needed to fly back to London almost immediately for a new project and you’re exhausted. When he Facetimes you it’s almost 11:30 at night and your still sitting in your home office, but with how excited Chris is, he can’t tell that you’re operating on extremely low levels of energy. You want to be excited for him, but you can see the writing on the wall.

“Hey babe.” You know what’s coming, but it doesn’t make the shock any less. “I’ve got some big news.” He waits for you to say something, but all you do is blink and nod. “AC Milan are going to sign me.” He waits again for you to say something. “Did you hear me? I’m leaving Chelsea.”

“Yeah, I heard you.” Your lack of enthusiasm confuses Christian.

“Then why aren’t you excited?”

Your apathy turns to frustration quickly and you shift in the chair. “Because, Christian, I’m not just going to blow up my life in London to follow you to a new city. I’ve got a job here and it’s going well. I don’t want to have to start all over again. Not to mention learning a whole new language. Have you considered how isolating that would be for me?”

“So what, I just rot at Chelsea because you don’t want to move?” He is now just as defensive as you, words biting at the holes that have formed in your relationship, making them grow.

“I didn’t say that!” You sit up even straighter, putting your phone down against the computer so it stands on it’s own.

“Well it sounds like you don’t want to leave.”

“I don’t want to pack up my life and move to a new country where I don’t know anyone.”

You could see the fight leave his body as he came to the same realization you did. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“I think we’re done Chris.” You can feel your heart break that last little bit with the words you say. You love Christian, but with everything you’ve gone through, it’s not enough.

twitter ---------

September 2023 real life ------

In one hand you held your phone, looking down at the details of your train back to London, in the other a hot chocolate to warm you up in the brisk wind of Oxford. It’s how you missed the body in front of you and ended up falling straight on your ass because of it, hot chocolate splashing onto your shirt.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered, pulling your shirt away from your body so it didn’t burn.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” said an American accent. You groaned in your head, not wanting to deal with this. “I should’ve been looking where I was going.” They put a hand in your face, gesturing to help you up, which you took. 

“No, it was my fault, I was staring at my phone,” you told them as they pulled you up. He was strong, and also probably a little awkward as he was still holding your hand.

“Me too, so I really won’t let you take the blame.” His awkward smile was also cute, but you tried not to think that, it wouldn’t agree with your ‘no boys agenda.’ “Do you need another hot chocolate?” The cup was empty at your feet, making you wince. 

“Yeah, probably another shirt too.” It’s at that point that he realizes he’s still holding your hand, and he drops it.

“Let me get you one.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You’re still very early for the train, but travel anxiety is terrible and you want to leave soon.

“I insist.” Something about his smile and red cheeks makes you say yes to him, and you’re really not sure why. “I’m Logan, by the way.” He’s leading you back into the line of the cafe, smiling at you still.

“I’m YN,” you tell him.

ynusername posted ---------

liked by logansargeant, benchilwell, and others

ynusername exploring oxford finally

bsfinstagram babe you run into any quidditch players ↳ ynusername bitch you know i'm swearing off athletes

username7 damn why are you so beautiful

samkerr 💞 ↳ ynusername ugh bestie i love you

pulisick10 'SWEARING OFF ATHLETES?' Christian mate pulisic what did you do!?! ↳ username8 that is so fucking harsh though like pulisic really did a number on our girl here ↳ pulisick10 ben chilwell still in the likes tho ↳ username8 nah her and ben are friends, like ben was always close with christian and just cause he left doesn't mean that she can't be friends still ↳ username8 also she's still good friends with the women's team ↳ pulisick10 well that's cause the women are better ❤️ by ynusername and bsfinstagram ↳ username8 NOT HER LIKING THAT but also won't argue with that

logansargeant at least the weather was good ↳ ynusername youre right, thank you english sun who comes out once in a blue moon ↳ bsfinstagram I'm questioning things ↳ ynusername well you shouldn't

username11 she's sworn off athletes but has a formula 1 driver in her comments... ↳ username12 fake bitch ↳ username13 two people can be friends right? ↳ username12 she breaks up with christian because of the distance but is talking a driver like he isn't gone more than half the year, she's definitely fake for that ↳ username13 how do you know that's why they broke up ↳ username14 she doesn't she's just being a hater ❤️ by ynusername ↳ username11 damn all this fighting on my comment thread?

username12 not yn liking so many comments, do you read them ↳ ynusername gotta appreciate a good laugh ↳ username13 yn stalks her comments like a real one should

twitter ---------

yn's messages -----------

November 2023 yn's messages ------------

real life --------

Your hotel room is kind of a mess, with clothes thrown around and various pieces of paper on the floor. It’s not really a surprise to Logan, even though he hasn’t known you very long.

After a long day exploring New York City in fairly okay weather, the two of you are relaxing in your hotel room before dinner. “Can I ask you something?” Logan asks. He’s currently sitting in the desk chair, feet propped up on the desk and head hung back. 

“Go ahead.” You’re on your bed, laying like a starfish.

“Would you say yes to going on a date with me?” You sit up straight, staring at him with wide eyes as he doesn’t move.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“No, I’m asking if you’d say yes to me asking you on a date.” His clarification makes you narrow your eyes, but he still doesn’t move. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

That gets him moving, turning the chair to look at you. “So would you say yes or no?”

“I’d say no right now.”

“What about in a month?”

“In a month, when we’re both back in England, I’d probably say yes.”

“Cool,” he shrugs, going back to putting his feet on the desk. “Then I’ll ask you again in January.”

ynusername posted ---------

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon and others

ynusername look who came to visit

lilymhe booooo bring me next time ↳ ynusername you're welcome whenever, he invited himself ↳ logansargeant literally not true you asked me to come ↳ ynusername stop lying! i wanted thanksgiving but you have this job that makes you fly across the world to drive a stupid car or something

oscarpiastri look at him jumping for joy for you ↳ ynusername yeah well, what can i say, I'm a dream come true

bsfinstagram ahhhh just under 2 weeks until you come home!! ↳ ynusername I missed you so much ↳ bsfinstagram debrief over wine incoming!

username18 nope she is definitely dating this driver ↳ username19 it's so weird cause like if she really broke up with christian because of distance then isn't this just so much worse ↳ username20 i don't think they broke up just because of distance, things were probably weird for a couple of months before hand cause she wasn't going to as many mens games, she was definitely going to the women's games though.

timothyweah did you get a hotdog from the hotdog guy? ↳ ynusername yes... why? ↳ timothyweah cause they're good and i just want to make sure that you did ↳ ynusername okay timmy

chelseafcw don't stay too long we miss you ↳ ynusername aww, i miss you guys too

May 2024 ynusername posted--------

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

ynusername Miami you can be pretty but you're on my shit list

landonorris no whyyyyy ↳ ynusername idk might have something to do with my boyfriend dnfing at his home race. ↳ landonorris oh, okay ↳ ynusername but i guess congrats on your win ↳ landonorris thanks ynnnnn! ↳ oscarpiastri someone is still drunk

logansargeant ohhh he's handsome ↳ ynusername yeah and he's got a jealous ass girlfriend so beware ↳ logansargeant love you too babe

username23 finally confirmed that they're dating only seven months later

[priniya]

👀 SIRIUS SHOULDN’T KNOW

synopsis. how is james supposed to leave reader alone, when she always kisses him so good?

notes. james potter x black!reader.

even though many thought that the relationship between the black family wasn’t even tolerable, sirius black loved his siblings (and cousins) to the point he grew protective of them. he believed that his slytherin brother was sly enough to protect himself, but his youngest sister didn’t seem like it. so… at first he protected her from their parents, now it was time to protect her from the boys, who’d like to have her undies on their room floor.

at the beginning you thought it was cute, even your twin agreed, but it had quickly changed, when sirius wanted to be the one who’d take you to the homecoming ball, scaring everyone off. so talking to james there was easy, it was probably one of your first talks ever. you sat next to him throughout the whole night and talked, getting suspicious looks from remus, who knew how could that end up.

james was going through a break-up with a girl he thought was the love of his life. it was definitely teary for him, and his best friends were aware, so if sirius caught his sister looking at potter with those daydreaming eyes, he would shoot some deer. oh, and if you were heartbroken, because he used you as a rebound, his head would hang in their dorm before the sun come.

he didn’t think much that night, seeing you alone in that emerald gown, visibly sad due to sirius’ nonsense, and he had to talk to you. he’s heard lots about you, from padfoot, moony and regulus, but never got quite a chance to start a conversation with you. in between the words, you left the great hall to go to the bathroom and ten minutes later his white, silky shirt laid on the floor of your dorm, while he unzipped your dress.

there were multiple rumors going around the school about james, and which type of a partner he was, was he a good kisser, had he got good manners, if he respected boundaries. now, you could truthfully admit that james potter was a hella good kisser. so good that if he wasn’t hovering over you, you’d barely stand. you were shaking under his touch or when his cold breath itched the skin of your neck.

it was supposed to be a one time thing, at least you thought so, because you hardly talked the following week, but then he asked you out to go on a date with him. his request was unexpected, but who were you to disobey? and now, a few months after, you were secretly seeing james potter, remus and regulus being the only ones that knew, keeping sirius away from discovering the truth.

“dove, just lay down with me alright? nothing will happen.” your boyfriend mumbled into the soft fabric of his pillow, one of his arms trying to reach you to somehow get you back to him. “he’s not coming here so early, c’mere and gimme a kiss.”

“jamie,” you pouted. “i don’t want this to end, and it probably will if he finds out.” he sighed upon hearing your words, and hugged your bare back. “we really gotta come up with a solution.”

his fingertips traced lines on your arms as you spoke, your words getting quieter with each stroke. “i’m gon’ play pretend with lily, alright? just like we’ve talked.” you didn’t want this, not more than sirius finding out about you two, nevertheless seeing your boyfriend spend more time with his ex would definitely hurt. “then, we’ll find a real solution.” he finished leaving a few kisses on your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

“are you sure you can do it?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. “the question is, are you sure you can handle it?” now, it was your time to wonder.

you liked lily, you really did, especially since she’s been hanging around your friend’s dorm so much, it felt as if she became your housemate. she was always so nice to you it hurt, thinking how good of a match she used to be with james.

“dove, don’t overthink it. i love you, remember? now, chop chop, i need to meet up with ginger.” he smiled, pulling away, before reaching for your shirt and giving it back.

“leaving me for your ex? rude.” you rolled your eyes jokiny, while putting on your shirt. “see you after classes.” you added, before leaving.

you’d say you expected everything as you walked down the hallway to enter the great hall, regulus and barty brickering over something as insignificant as what you’d eaten the day before, or that sirius was being obnoxiously loud. however, you were definitely not ready for what you were about to see.

evans was snuggling in james’ side as he feed her, big grins on their faces, shooting a glance at pandora, you noticed you weren’t the only one upset with the whole thing. clutching your bag to your chest, you sat at the slytherin table between your brother and one of his friends. “i don’t like this.” you murmured prior to regulus’ arm drape over your shoulders. “barty, mind moving a little to the left, so i don’t kill myself in a minute?”

“i don’t get it.” crouch began, looking at you all confused. “why won’t you just… i don’t know. confeont sirius about all this? it’s not like you’re twelve or something. you’re gonna be sixteen in a short time, why acting like you’re not?” he shrugged, stuffing his mouth with anything his hand could reach.

“you know sirius.” you mumbled, hiding your face in your palms. “you should either tell him, or break up with potter. there’s no point in hiding if you never come out of your shell.” evan shrugged, immediately getting a look from regulus. “did he even ask you out properly?”

“no, but– we’re exclusive.” you frowned upon his words. “evan, just shut up.” dorcas uttered, knowing where this conversation would lead, the five of them (including aliya, who were currently occupying the hospital wing) has already discussed the idea of your relationship with james. the conversation reoccurred whenever you seemed a little too upset after talking to him, and even though they would never say anything that included your relationship in front of you, they cared if you were happy.

“i lost any appetite that was left in me.” you sighed, locking eyes with remus, who quickly hit james in his leg under the table to make him look at you. it felt like when he did, he looked like he had realized something.

nevertheless, when you left so suddenly, he kept the act, not rushing after you. it wasn’t the first timr, when you were visibly hurt by something and james couldn’t do anything in public, because sirius was always somewhere in sight. good thing you had a friend to run after you. well, barty didn’t exactly run, but he caught up to you swiftly, and left the hall with his arm on your shoulders and a quick stare for james.

“you gotta man up, tell sirius and stop this whole potter-evans madness.” he sighed, his arm falling off you as soon as the door closed behind you. “i mean, what will your brother do – kill you? you’re a young woman, he gotta know that!” he nudged you with his elbow as you walked to the class.

to be honest, you absolutely loved potions, what you disliked about them was that on fridays you had them with the gryffindors, and slughorn made it his mission to make you socialise more, so… you were stuck at one desk with marlene mckinnon for the whole two hours.

you’d lie if you said you didn’t know or like marlene. mckinnon was one of the girls you liked the most from your brother’s friend group, most likely because she also hung out with dorcas and dora a lot, so you knew her vibe matched yours. nonetheless, after the scene with your boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend, you weren’t exactly in the mood of talking to anyone who wasn’t a part of your own house.

“so… you and rosier?” her eyebrows wiggled suggestively as she spoke, grabbing your attention faster than ever. “what? what’s with the face. everyone saw how protective he was of you today at breakfast.” she grinned and stopped babbling for a moment, at the same time the professor sent you a glare.

“nah.” you shrugged, scribbling in your notebook. “why? he’s my friend.” a reply left your lips as you relaxed your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes for a second.

“i mean… lily and james were also best friends and now they’re back together…?” you knew she didn’t know that it wasn’t the truth, but somehow you grew quiet. “you and evan would look just as cute as they do, or even more. who knows?”

till the end of the period, you hadn’t spoken more than a one-word sentence, mckinnon’s words still ringing in your mind, getting louder and louder each second. you wondered if you and james looked cute together, if anyone would be like «woah, if they broke up i don’t believe in love” type of person.

“i think even sirius said he’d root for you.” that was all you needed to let go of the fear, not only because you were annoyed that someone thought you and evan were a thing (when he was clearly interested in his other friend), but because sirius used to brag about any boy you talked about making either you or the boy himself lose interest.

you decided to hold your horses until necessary, and… you were really surprised, when the jealousy burst out at james’ birthday party a few weeks later. you weren’t directly invited, “not to raise any more suspicions”, but since your boyfriend clearly stated he needed you to be there, you appeared, elbow intertwined with your twin’s.

at first, you wanted to keep everything simple. a plain, fitted black dress that you wore to the banquet your parents forced you to go to, when you were younger. although, back then your silhouette looked completely different, your curves developed and now the dress that once made you look like a wardrobe’s door, now it brought out everything that was needed.

within few drinks, and half an hour of watching your boyfriend fooling around with his ex, you had enough. it was his birthday and you couldn’t even properly celebrate it with him in front of all these people. with another two shots for courage, you walked up to them and by pulling his tie the closest you could, you crushed your lips onto his.

you didn’t even give sirius a chance to protest. without saying a word, you pulled back, grabbing his hand and almost run to the stairs to his dormitory. “sorry mate, what your girlfriend says, you must obey.” he shrugged and followed you, leaving your poor brother in shambles.

“finally! i thought she’d kill herself or you two, no offence though.” regulus sat beside lily, and smiled warmly, catching a glimpse of pandora who’d seen your outburts as a sign to finally give up hiding.

“wait, you knew?” the oldest black turned his head to his younger brother and frowned.

“we all did, padfoot.” remus laughed, taking a seat at the armrest of sirius’ chair. “some of us–“ his eyes landed on marlene. “– were pushing their buttons to end this madness.”

“what? i almost got the jealousy admission from james.” mckinnon shrugged, sipping on her drink.

[dollwrites]

— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tartaglia was panting in your ear. repeating the affirmation in weak, happy moans, his breath hot waves crashing against the shell, sending your hair to stand on end. listening to him mewl for you was almost as fun as watching him chase the high that hides in your core. so, you didn’t mind too much that he was hiding his face from you. the face that you knew was screwed into a look of pure nirvana, and tinted rosy across his cheeks and his nose. “You feel so good, you feel damn good. I’m losing it in here, cutie. F-fucking losing it.”

another couple of deep, hard thrusts into you, sending your back arching off the bed and your eyes rolling back, and you knew what he meant. you could feel it— his neediness— in the force behind his fucking, and the depths that his base instinct yearns to reach, that he was close. beyond that, his cock was twitchy, the pink tip painfully swollen as it jabs at your spongy nerves.

he was about to cum.

“Ch—“ you hardly find a gulp of air, but it’s stolen almost as soon as you swallow, fucked out of you. “Childe!” your body reacts to his mercilessness. your cunt clamps down tighter around him, and your ankles lock against his lower back, spurring his body closer to yours, as if begging him to breed you.

“Feel that,” Tartaglia grunts, his thin brows stitching closer, his teeth grinding against each other like he was keeping the urge to bite your neck at bay, “feel you right now. My cute, little vice—“ one of your hands jerks at his ginger roots, nails scraping his scalp, while the other claws at the bed below, desperate to chip away that the immense pleasure building with each time his hips slammed into yours, now. “I’m going to cum, and this little pussy starts hugging me tighter. What’s the matter, cutie? Don’t want me to pull out? Finally going to let me put a baby in you?”

it was only mildly humiliating. after weeks, nay— months— of his incessant want to procreate and your vehement protest, you were weak to the prospect. maybe he’d worn you down, or you were swept too far out into a sea of ecstasy to care about the consequences, the reason didn’t really matter. your eyes struggle to stay open, your breathy heavy and ragged as you try to wet your whistle enough to speak without it sounding needy and raspy. it does, anyways. “D-don’t talk about it, just— d-do it!”

his forearms sneak beneath your body, cross-crossing against your back to jerk you upwards and to his chest, cradling you like a precious treasure, but the caress was merely a means to an end— to capture you in a position where he held all the power, and keep you there. “That’s a good girl,” he swooned, ignoring your plea to not humiliate you further. with his face buried in your neck, the sweat clinging to your roots stuck your hair to his face, and his lips dragged and smeared over your hot skin, teeth grazing your pulse point as he speaks, “being such a pretty, little baby oven for me, so warm and inviting.” Tartaglia growls for a moment, a harsh rumbling as he’s nearly crossing the finishing line. “This is going to be a big one, haaa… I’m going to fill you up, that okay, cutie?”

heavens, was it ever.

you nod, now groping his fiery tendrils with both fists. each lock was slick with sweat and slid through your fingers, but you grappled constantly stimulating him further with the rough treatment.

he gurgles out a happy moan in the back of your throat. “Good cutie,” he whispers, “You want to give me lots of sons and daughters to spoil, I can tell. You’re so desperate to have my babies. And believe me— I am so fucking desperate to give them to you. Hold extra still, baby girl, here it comes!”

[steddieas-shegoes]

it's not ever what it looks like

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'

rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.

Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.

But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.

Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.

But not daily for over a week.

He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.

And now this article.

There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.

The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?

Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.

Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.

It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.

Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.

He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.

All of them had said mostly the same things:

I can't get ahold of Eddie.

He wouldn't do this.

Something else is going on.

Call me when you can.

The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.

He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.

Steve called Gareth.

"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."

"What's going on?"

Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"

"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."

"Steve-"

"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"

"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"

"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."

Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.

He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.

Until now.

It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.

No time to wallow.

He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.

"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."

"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.

She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.

"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."

"Nothing happened!"

"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"

Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.

Steve nodded once.

Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."

"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.

She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.

His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.

Eddie walked through his door.

He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.

"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.

"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."

The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.

He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.

The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.

He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.

He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.

"I needed to explain-"

"Right."

"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."

Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.

"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."

Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.

He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.

"No, Steve, you don't understand."

"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."

Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.

Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.

Many of them from Eddie himself.

"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.

So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.

But then he started playing the voicemails.

"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."

"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."

"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."

"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."

Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.

"Well?" He asked, broken.

"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.

"Great for him."

"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."

At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.

But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.

"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.

"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."

Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.

But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.

Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.

Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.

He just needed to feel him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”

“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”

Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.

“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”

“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”

“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”

“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”

“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”

Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”

“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”

“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.

Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”

“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.

That bastard.

“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”

“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.

“What?”

“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.

“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”

Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”

“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."

"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"

"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."

"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."

"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."

"So you're not saying no?"

"Why would I say no?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."

"You're ridiculous."

"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.

"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.

"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."

"I'm not doing that."

"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."

"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."

"The sooner the better, sweetheart."

[luvyeni]

hi!!! omg i’ve been a fan of your blog for a while now, and i really love your writings! was wondering if you could possibly do a changbin work? maybe he’s super open and lovey with his members but when it comes to you, who he’s in a new relationship with, he pulls away bc he doesn’t want to overwhelm you and smother you/drive you away but you end up taking it as him not being that into you, and it’s just one big angsty ordeal of miscommunication, and he makes it up by showing her he adores her by giving her many orgasms and just indulging in having her in every way he’s wanted???

❛ADORE YOU❜ ( s. changbin )

p. seo changbin x fem!reader wc. 2.3k+

warnings? angsty, oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk

— 𖦹 ( changbin showing you he really loves you ) !

“you must have to pry changbin off you all the time.” you turned to chan, confused. “what do you mean?” you asked, he shrugged pointing to over to where changbin smothering hyunjin in a hug, the younger boy trying to pull away. “he must be like that all the time when you guys are home.” you nodded, smiling – but the truth was, he’d never done like that.

you and changbin had only been dating for about 4 months, but you were so deeply in love with him already, and you do desperately wanted to show him affection and for him to show you affection.

you noticed quickly after that exchange with chan that changbin was more affectionate with his members than he was with you ever, he held your hand sometimes when he was driving and he kissed and hugged you sometimes, but that pretty much was it – but with his members he was way different, he was more open with them too, han was the one to break this to you, accidentally letting something slip that he’d never even told you, you had to play it off like you knew what he was talking about.

even your sex life – honestly you couldn’t even call it that, you had only had sex once. it was nice, but you just tell he wasn’t really into it, he even lied and said he finished, but when you turned over to ‘sleep’, you could hear him go into the bathroom, his moans indicated your suspicions that he didn’t finish confirmed true.

you weren’t sure why he was acting like this, when he pursued you he seemed so interested into, but now you weren’t so sure, maybe you just were seeing things because you liked him so much, so you deluded yourself into thinking he was just interested in you as you were in him.

“look what yongbok sent me.” he pulled you from your deep thought, showing you a random tiktok that the younger boy had sent him. “that’s funny.” you said, picking his hand up, intertwining it with his – but to your dismay, he just kissed your knuckles, unlacing your hands, going back to what he was doing.

you frowned, he didn’t even notice to busy typing away on his phone, laughing. “what are you doing?” you wrapped your arms around his bicep, cuddling into his side. “texting lix, he was just telling me what he did today.” he never had these conversations with you, he hardly ever texted you first. “uh baby?” you turned to him. “yes?” he smiled, removing his arm from your clutches. “my arm is falling asleep.” he chuckled, but you had enough at this point. “you know what.” you scoffed, standing up. “i’m done.”

changbin looked up from his phone confused. “what’s wrong?” he was so clueless, and it made you even madder. “why did enter a relationship with me if you were just gonna treat me like a friend – not even a close friend, like a distant friend.” you didn’t mean to blow up, but you were hurt.

“baby what do you mean, i don’t treat you like a distant friend.” he said, putting his phone down finally. “yeah, you probably treat them better too.” changbin was taken aback by your words. “baby what has gotten into you?” he reach for your hand, but you pulled away. “talk to me.”

“we’ve been together for 4 months now, and i can count on my hands how many times you’ve hugged me, and i bet you that the number of times you hugged your members is 3x more.” you said. “you don’t let me hug you, or kiss you, you don’t even talk to me.”

“that’s not true.” he said. “why did I find out by han you were sick last week, and that’s why you canceled our date?” he didn’t want you to find out about that. “i didn’t want you to worry.” he said. “but i want to worry, i want to worry about you, i want to worry if you’ve eaten or if you’re getting enough sleep – i want to care about you, and i want to care about me.”

“i do care baby, i do it’s jus– i just want you to hug me and kiss me and love me, we don’t even have sex.” you exclaimed, your lips quivering, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “the one time we did it, you lied and said you came, when you didn’t i heard you go into the bathroom.”

his heart was hurting, he didn’t even realize he was hurting you like this. “are you just not into me, it’s okay if you aren’t but don’t lead me on please.” you said. “it hurts.” you walked away, going into your room closing the door.

soon after that, he got a text from you saying that he could leave if he wanted, just make sure the door was locked. he didn’t want to leave though, this was all his fault. he let his stupid insecurities get to him.

believe it or not , he did really love you, he was the one who pursued you after all – he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid his eyes on, you were kind to everyone, he desperately wanted to get to know you. he was ecstatic when you agreed to go on a date with him, and fell even deeper in love that he asked you to be his girlfriend only after 2 dates.

now that he had you, he wanted to keep you – and he knew that a lot of people would be overwhelmed by his amount of affection and he didn’t wanted to do that for you, so he didn’t get to close or smother you, he now see how he fucked up.

he was about to put his shoes on, when he decided no – he wasn’t gonna walk away from this so easily, he was gonna work this out with you, he was gonna show you.

he made his way to your room, knocking softly on the door. “baby?” you didn’t say anything. “baby i’m coming in okay?” he slowly opened the door, your back was facing him. “i said you could go.” your face was muffled from your face being muffled in the stuffed animal he bought you – it was the only thing he’d ever given you, giving changbin another reason to hate himself.

“i don’t want to.” you heard his light footsteps coming closer, the bed dipping indicating he had sat down. “can you look at me baby?” you ignored his request, he frowned, you felt his hands on your waste. “please baby, look at me.” you slowly turned, his heart shattering – your eyes were red, indicating you had been crying, he had made you cry. “i’m so sorry.” he said wiping your cheeks. “i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he whispered.

“do you not want to be with me?” he shook his head. “of course, i do, i really do.” he said, you sniffled, sitting up. “then why are you acting like that?” he sighed, embarrassed. “because i didn’t want to overwhelm you with my affection, it was stupid and i was being insecure, but i just didn’t want you to get freaked out and drive you away.”

he grabbed your hands, “i promise you i will never hurt you like this again, i’ll never make you feel unsure of my love for you.” he kissed your knuckles. “please forgive me.” his wyes were pleading with you, you felt how sorry he was. “i’ll forgive you this time, don’t do it again.” he nodded, eyes widening in excitement. “thank you baby, thank you so much.”

he pressed his lips against yours , his lips molding against yours perfectly, you sighed in content. he didn’t bother pulling away, climbing on top, your lips still glued together. he finally pulled away, missing your lips already. “i’ll kiss you like this every single day to make up for lost times.” you looked so cute laid under him, eyes fluttering. “mo-more please.”

he had to calm himself, another one of his qualms and the reason why he didn’t want to have sex with you, he knew he could be rough sometimes, and he didn’t want to hurt you, that’s why the first time you had sex he lied and said he finished, you had already came and he didn’t want to overstimulate you. “binnie?” you gently touched his cheek. “talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“i want you, fuck i want you so bad.” he said. “but i don’t want to hurt you, be too rough.” he held himself up, looking down at you. you bit your lip, the need bubbling up in your stomach. “i can take it, i promise, please.” he groaned, you didn’t even notice you were subtly grinding against his clothes cock. “please binnie, i want it.”

your whining did it for him, he held your waist down. “i got you.” he kissed you again, working down your neck. “gonna treat you so well.” he pushed himself off of you, you sat up, pulling your shirt off, throwing it to the floor. he hungrily grabbed your face, kissing you.

you laid against the pillow, his lips working down your stomach, you sighed as he reached the band of your shorts. “can i take them off princess?” you nodded; your breathing staggered. “please.” he yanked your shorts down, leaving you in your underwear. “look at that, so fucking pretty baby, i’m such an idiot for ignoring you.”

he came face to your clothed cunt, the wet spot in your baby blue underwear making him curse. “you’re so wet princess, so riled up just from some kissing.” he bumped his nose teasingly against your clit. “y-you haven’t touched me in so long, a-anything could turn me on.” you pouted, whimpering. “i know baby, i know.” he pulled your panties to the side, your cunt glistening and puffy. “i’ve neglected this little pussy for too long.” he inhaled, your scent filling his nostrils. “never again.”

he kissed your cunt, you moaned, he took that as a sign, fully attaching his mouth to your mound, making out with your clit. “changbin fuck!” you moaned, his face was pushed against you, lapping at your cunt, eating you like a starved man. “fe-feels so good.” you tugged at his hair, he groaned against your heat.

he engulfed your clit, sucking harshly on it. “w-wait -fuck- m’gonna cum if you do that.” he ignored your please, holding your legs open to keep you from closing them. “binnie, binnie i’m cumming!” you tried to warn him, but it was too late, your stomach tightening, cumming – your juices coating his face, he lapped up everything, leaving little kissing on your clit before he pulled away.

“you taste so good.” he used the pad of his thumb to continue the assault on your clit. “like candy baby.” he pushed a finger into your hole. “such a tiny hole.” you whimpered, his other hand coming up to your bra, pulling it down, your boobs spilling out. “an-another one.”

he added another one, stretching your hole even more. “sh-shit.” you mewled, he held your waist down, fucking his fingers into you. “that’s it, take my fingers, gotta get you ready for my cock.” you moaned, one thing you did remember about the time you had sex with him – he was huge, his cock was the perfect length and thick.

“you thinking about it baby?” he smirked. “thinking about my cock filling your tiny pussy hm stretching it past your limits?” you nodded. “p-please.” you felt your second orgasm approaching, your cunt tightening around his fingers. “you’re about to cum again princess, i can feel your cunt tightening my fingers, cum for me love.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, cumming.

“there we go, cum for me again.” he pulled his fingers out, covered in your juices. he undid his pants, along with his underwear. he wrapped his hand covered in your cum around his cock, stroking his length. “you’re drooling baby.” you covered your face in embarrassment. “no don’t hide your pretty face.” he pulled your legs apart, folding your body in half. “i wanna see your face when i split your tiny pussy with my fat cock.”

he rubbed his cock on your folds, your soft moan quickly turning into a scream as he pushed his thick cock into you. “so-so big.” you moaned. “fuck.” he cursed; your cunt was sucking him in. “your pussy is so fucking tight, i’ve been missing out on this cunt.” he sped up his movements, holding your legs open. “f-faster binnie.”

he sped up, his thrust becoming rougher, his balls slapping against your ass, your cunt choking his cock, he felt like he was losing himself, getting too drunk on your sweet cunt. “such a good baby, fucking cunt is so good, squeezing me like that.” he grunted, speeding up, you were now screaming his name, gripping the sheets as he abused your cunt. “never gonna neglect this cunt again, gonna stuff you full of my cock every night, make sure you still feel me inside you in the morning.”

he pushed deeper inside you, hitting your cervix. “so-so deep.” you moaned. “yeah, you can feel me in your stomach baby?” you nodded dumbly. “you’re drooling baby, did my cock make you dumb?” you tried to answer, but he just fucked deeper into you , wiping the drool from your lips. “messy baby.”

you felt it bubbling up in your stomach, your third orgasm approaching. “ch-chang- i know baby -fuck- i know, go ahead and cum, cum all over my cock.” Your back arched off the bed, thighs shaking as you came, a white ring forming around his cock as he chased his orgasm. “fuck princess, your cunt is still sucking me in, gonna cum inside of you don’t let me out.”

“pl-please i want it inside.” his mind went blank, his hips stuttering as he came, his cum filling you up, a warm feeling spreading through your body. “fu-fuck baby.” he sighed; his forehead pressed against yours. “i’m sorry baby, but you sounded so fucking pretty begging me to cum inside, i couldn’t help it.”

he tried to pull out, but you stopped him. “baby we gotta clean you up.” you shook your head no, pulling him as close as you could. “i wanna stay like this.” you sighed, he was on top of you, his body weight was comforting. “okay baby if that’s what you want.” he said. “we can stay like this for as long as you want.”

he didn’t mind at all , you guys had a lot of lost time to make up for.

©️LUVYENI

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 8

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: oral sex f receiving, the Reverend Mother is a bitch, you get your period, incest, mentions of child abuse and pedophilia, depictions of violence and gore, cannibalism (the harpies), he chases you, strangling, dubious consent, p in v, no foreplay, fingering, inappropriate use of a ring, rough sex, no protection, creampie

A/N: Nothing like a visit from your evil grandmother to snap you out of your dick trance. And a nice…jaunt…through the woods to put you right back into it

“You should stay.”

Feyd gazes up at you from between your thighs, mouth glistening and slick. His pupils are blown, plush lips swollen from the attention he’s been giving your cunt. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your ass.

“Is now really the time to discuss this?”

You consider. This seemed like as good of a time as any, especially since you had him essentially trapped: you kneeling over him, knees bracketing his head, holding onto the headboard while Feyd laid beneath you, hands keeping you from squirming too far away from his eager mouth.

“I thought it might bolster my argument,” you finally admit.

Feyd hums in response, using a finger to spread your wetness. You shudder involuntarily.

Feyd.

When had you started calling him that? Probably sometime in the course of the last few days, in which neither of you seldom left the bed. No matter how many times he had touched you, each one led you to the brink of ecstasy.

“I do have a hard time refusing you when you’re like this,” Feyd rasps, inserting a single digit inside you. “But I’m afraid I have no choice.”

You wiggle your hips, hoping to both coax him into staying and incite him to move his deft fingers. “Please.”

Spending the last few days is exactly what you’re arguing about — Feyd is insistent that that he must return to his duties as na-Baron. Other duties, it turns out, then securing an heir.

“I said no,” he tells you briskly.

A whine builds in your throat.

Three months ago, you would’ve been appalled at this. Hell, a few days ago, you would’ve been appalled at this. But that was before Feyd had spent nearly every second of every day lavishing you with his tongue and his mouth, fingers alighting on your skin and cock keeping you full with his seed. Without him inside you, you would feel despicably empty.

“Be a good wife and I will come back and reward you for your patience.”

“How will you do that?”

And he shows you: lapping at your cunt until you can hardly bear to kneel anymore, then taking you from behind. His hips snap mercilessly against your ass as he tells you all of the ways he’ll pleasure you when he returns. It’s really not fair — especially when he fucks you so thoroughly that you barely have any protest left in you by the time he slips out the door.

Later in the day when you’re moping, sufficiently disgusted with yourself, a servant appears to summon you from your dick-induced misery. They stand hesitantly in your doorway.

“na-Baroness.”

“Hm?” You aim for casual indifference, hoping the servant can’t smell the evidence of your rampant fucking. You had turned away any of the cleaning servants, halfway clutching onto the hope that Feyd would come back. He didn’t.

Asshole.

“You have a visitor, come to congratulate you on your wedding.”

“Oh?” You can’t think of anyone who wasn’t already in attendance that would want to meet with you. “Who is this visitor?”

“She claimed that you would know her.”

You narrow your eyes. “You believed her?”

“She-She refused to tell me her name.” The servant sheepishly shifts their weight. “The next thing I knew, I was here, na-Baroness.”

Ah, The Voice, no doubt.

There could only be one person who would want to see you and be strong enough to inflict such a power. The reality of the situation sobers you. “Tell her that I will be right with her.”

Quickly you dress, your thoughts turning from the prowess of your husband to more pressing matters. Disappointment stabs at you when you realize that your suspicions were right — Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam perches elegantly on a chaise in the room where you typically receive guests.

She’s swathed in gauzy black fabric, the only indication of her gaze being the slightest trembling of her decorative chains as she turns to appraise you. Rather critically, if you were to guess.

“Lady Y/N. Or should I say na-Baroness Y/N?”

“That is my title now,” you reply coolly, “you should know, considering that you were the one to ensure it happened.”

“I did not come here to trade barbs with our tongues.”

“Shame,” you say.

The Reverend Mother says haughtily, “I came here to congratulate you. And remind you of your responsibility. I trust that Jessica delivered the fertility necklace?”

“She did,” you grind out.

“It is paramount that you conceive a child with Feyd-Rautha as soon as possible.”

“How do you know that I haven’t already?”

“I know you haven’t,” she hisses, “otherwise I would smell it on you. Your blood will come soon.”

This creates a knot of anguish in you that you try not to examine too closely.

The Reverend Mother continues, “You have failed. We cannot dally, child, when it comes to the matter of the Kwisatz Haderach.”

“It’s not for lack of trying. He’s been fucking me regularly to ensure a heir,” you snarl at her, hoping to blindside her with your crassness just as she did with news of your upcoming blood. “Maybe you should’ve gotten a Bene Gesserit witch to do your bidding.”

The Reverend Mother scoffs. “Jessica failed to educate you in our ways just as you’ve failed to conceive. I would’ve chosen anyone else if it wasn’t for ten thousand years of careful breeding. But, alas, it seems you are my only option.”

“Right,” you retort.

“Now we must do whatever it takes to ensure that the Kwisatz Haderach is conceived,” says the Reverend Mother. Her tone takes on that of self-importance. “I will conduct a visit every month until then.”

You twirl your finger in a celebratory manner.

“You mock me, but you are just fortunate enough to be here. The mother to the Kwisatz Haderach — no greater title could be bestowed upon an individual. You will bear the fruit of our tedious labor, the one destined to shape the future of our world. And you do not even appreciate this blessing.”

“Oh yes, a blessing upon my unborn child that will inevitably seat him as your puppet.” Your hand flickers to your belly, above your empty womb as if you can protect the life that has yet to take root there. “What kind of mother am I to impose that?”

The Reverend Mother stands. “An obedient one.”

You storm furiously from the receiving room without saying goodbye — formalities be damned. You’re surprised she doesn’t beckon you back with The Voice. Perhaps she knows that you’ll be forced to take audience with her next month. The thought carries you through the fortress halls without any predilection of where you’re going, replaying the conversation in your mind and growing angrier by the minute.

So lost in your anger that you scarcely recognize the rasping growl of your husband’s voice, clearly attempting for a whisper but failing spectacularly.

“—those times are over,” you catch him saying.

You peer into a room, the Baron’s own personal quarters. You’d been here only once before, when Asha gave you a tour of the grounds. How did you even get here?

“Even so, you are still my charge,” the Baron replies. “I am your keeper.”

Folding yourself into a corner adjacent to the Baron’s quarters, you watch your husband stalk back and forth like a caged predator. “I am a grown man, Uncle, you have no more use for me as you once did.”

“Even still, I remember the day you would come crawling at my every order —”

“I told you. Those days are over. They have been for quite some time.”

You can’t see the Baron as well as Feyd, just sense his enormous presence, a storm cloud encroaching a sunny day. “Perhaps it is the matters with your new wife that make me long for the days of the past.”

There’s a sickening intimacy in his words.

“Don’t speak of her,” Feyd snaps, but you get the impression that this admittance has rattled him.

“I have given you everything,” the Baron continues, nonplussed, “your title, your fame, even this wife that you’re so quick to defend. In return I ask just for you to —”

“No. Never again.”

The Baron’s softness hardens, crystallizes. “I know that it’s you who chases away my boys. And yet you won’t even offer your own services to me.”

“I chase them away to keep them from your clutches,” Feyd fires back, incensed. “Not from jealousy as you so selfishly presume.”

“What am I to do then, nephew?”

Feyd stops his pacing. “Rot. I ought to just drown you in that tub.”

“I know you don’t mean that. Come here.”

Feyd hesitates. Your pulse hammers uncertainly, if the implications of this conversation are —

You watch your husband — your proud, inviolable husband — slowly make his way to the side of the Baron’s tub. You risk moving from your hiding spot to see him kneel beside it, his features neutral and dark gaze lowered. The Baron raises a fat arm, black liquid sluicing from it, and cups the side of Feyd’s face.

“My darling nephew. You will always be my favorite.”

Feyd stills as the Baron nears him, presses a chaste kiss to Feyd’s lips — the lips that only hours ago had been between your legs, on your breasts. As far as you can tell Feyd does not reciprocate the gesture, but willingly allows it to happen anyway. Your stomach twists.

You can’t watch this anymore.

You turn and flee back from where you came, sickened and confused and utterly perplexed.

The next morning, there’s blood on the sheets. You tear them off in frustration, more so that the Reverend Mother’s prediction was correct than the fact of its presence. Feyd never returned as he promised, and you spent the night tossing and turning, your nightmares torn between images of your doomed child and the Baron in his tub, reaching out with thick fingers to drown you.

That being said, you’re exhausted. You draw a bath for yourself and have just sunken into the warmth depths when you hear a commotion in the other room. Feyd steps in the bathroom.

His gaze goes to you, roaming over your naked figure before landing on your face. “What happened?”

“I got my blood.” You dip lower into the tub, submerging yourself. “I don’t want to talk about it. What happened to you?”

He traipses inside. “What do you mean?”

“You were supposed to come back last night,” you say. You don’t want to seem sadden by his absence, however, so you busy yourself with lathering soap on your arms and legs.

“I’m here now.” He perches on the side of the tub.

It’s eerily similar to the scene you saw yesterday. You involuntarily shy away from him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” His voice pitches with disbelief.

“I-I need to talk to you,” you tell him.

Feyd’s smooth brow furrows. “If this is about your blood, it doesn’t —”

“I saw you. Yesterday. With the Baron.”

You expect him to flinch, to recoil. But there’s not even the slightest change in his expression. You swear you see a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it disappears so fast that you’re not even sure you saw it. “You don’t know what you saw.”

“Explain what I did then.”

“I cannot.”

“The Baron —”

“I took care of it,” Feyd says.

His tone suggests that the conversation is over. You drag a hand through the water, swirling with soapy residue. “He hurt you.”

“He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do.”

“You were a child.”

“I haven’t been a child for a very long time,” Feyd says quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

You finally meet his gaze. He’s watching you carefully, studying you like you’re something he’s never seen before. Your heart aches for him. While it’s impossible to imagine him so young, you know that at one point he was just a boy. Thin limbs and missing teeth. Dimples on his hands.

You touch his hands how they are now, scarred and calloused, fingers slightly bent from repeated breaks. He lets you.

“You’re starting to wrinkle.”

He snatches your hand, gazing in wonderment at your palms. You can’t help but laugh, though it’s pained, his admission fresh on your mind. “That’s what happens if I’m in water too long. Don’t look at me like that — do you not wrinkle?”

“Harkonnens don’t spend copious amounts of time in water.”

“Then what happens?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? I don’t believe you.”

Feyd’s lips twitch. Before you know it, he’s removing his clothes and dropping into the bath behind you. He has to contort his long limbs but manages to settle in, pulling you back against him.

You tilt your head back to rest against his chest.

“I’m sorry —”

“I told you not to be.”

You close your eyes, throat working. “Not-Not about that. That I’m not pregnant.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

He picks up your hand, runs his thumb over your wrinkled palm and the pads of your fingers. “No.”

Somewhat hesitantly, you tell him about your visit with the Reverend Mother. He listens, but with your back flush to his chest you can’t gauge his reaction.

“She said she’s going to conduct monthly visits,” you add sourly.

A rumble sounds in his chest. “Do you want this?”

“No, I don’t want it,” you retort. “If I had my way I would never see her again.”

“Then consider it done.”

You turn halfway, bracing yourself on the edge of the tub so you can face him. “You can’t just do that.”

“Do what?”

“The Reverend Mother always gets her way,” you tell him. “She won’t listen to you. And it’s not worth concurring her wrath.”

“Then we’ll have to ensure she won’t need to visit for a second time.”

You blow out a stream of air. “I wish it were that simple. Even if I do get pregnant, they’re going to be hovering over us until our last breath.”

Feyd doesn’t answer.

All you can hear is the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. It’s slower than yours. Due to the thickness of his blood, his heart doesn’t have to work as hard to get it through his body. At least, that’s how he explained it. You were still learning about each other.

You examine his hand. It’s as smooth as before.

“Strange,” you mutter.

He counters, “You’re the one that wrinkles.”

Later, when you’ve toweled dry, Feyd approaches you from behind. He cuts a menacing figure in the mirror, a charcoal sketch of blacks and whites. Pale skin, dark eyes. A phantom that presses his lips into the curve of your shoulder.

“I want to show you something.”

You frown. “What?”

“Come away with me. Tomorrow.”

“I will if you say where we’re going,” you reply. You spin around and he traps you against the vanity, hands at your waist.

“Just tell me you’ll go.”

You pause, although mentally you’ve already agreed. You’re desperate to leave the fortress. “Are you going to ask nicely?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Feyd nudges open the panels of your robe, revealing a triangle of skin. “Very well. The girls will be disappointed.”

“What girls?” You close your robe.

“My concubines,” he says with a ghost of a smile. He knows exactly how to flay you, how to press his finger into the wound to make it hurt. “They will be going.”

“Then so will I.”

“I thought you wanted me to ask nicely.” His smooth brow raises.

“And I thought you were done with them.”

He skims his hands over your sides. “You have no need to be jealous, wife. They are nothing to me.” Feyd grins secretively. “This trip will satisfy a different hunger of theirs.”

“Dare I ask?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

The thopter crouches ominously in the distance. You trail after Feyd in disbelief. “You know how to pilot that?”

“Don’t you?”

You scowl. “No. I don’t like heights.”

Yesterday, after Feyd delivered his previous promise of rewarding your patience, he explained that you would be traveling to the far side of Giedi Prime. He wouldn’t give you many more details than that, but you were too curious to care. Anyways, as much as you loathed to admit it, and no matter how much you denied it, you were jealous of his concubines. If you were forced to marry him, then he should be forced to endure you solely without the benefit of other women.

Fortunately, they would be traveling separately from you, in what Feyd swore would be a relatively short ride. He helps you onto the thopter then climbs in after you.

The machine shudders as the insect-like wings snap to life. You grip the armrests of your co-pilot’s seat as Feyd guides the thopter into the air and away from the fortress, piloting it with the refined way he does all other things, with little worry or fear of failure. You wish you could exercise such confidence — especially now, as the thopter clears the smog scarfing the planet, and can you really tell how far up you are.

“Tell me something,” you say, eyes closed. “I need a distraction.”

Even though you can’t see him, you can only too clearly picture him grinning at you. “Anything?”

“Anything,” you grit out.

Feyd is quiet for quite some time. When he finally speaks, his rasping lilt obtains a softness that you’re unfamiliar with. “The Baron still…requests…the company of young boys. I do my best to intervene but I don’t always succeed.”

You peel open one eye. “It’s his disgusting problem. You can’t blame yourself.”

“But when I do,” he forges ahead, almost as if you never said anything, “I like to make sure that they won’t need to worry about him again. And that their captors will never see the light of day again.”

“Is that what we’re doing?”

“Or something,” he says vaguely.

Feyd goes on to say that, with their military schools segregated into males and females, it’s only too easy for captors to select boys that will please the Baron. The longer he talks, the tighter his grip on the controls are, until you fear that he might snap them in half and plunge you back down to the earth.

“You didn’t have to do anything about it,” you say finally, quietly. “But you do.”

Feyd’s dark eyes glint. “The Baron needs to die.”

“Why haven’t you done anything?” It seems wrong to casually inquire why he hasn’t killed his uncle — his abuser — but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Feyd shrugs. “I’m afraid that the baronship will be stripped from me if I kill him. And I can’t allow Rabban to take over.” He glances at you. “By the way, I didn’t know you were so close to my brother.”

“I’m not,” you grumble.

“Then why did he want to dance with you?”

“He wanted to warn me. There seems to be something happening that I could’ve prevented had I—” you trail off.

Were you really going to tell him? You didn’t know how he would react. The only reason you hadn’t said anything yet was because you didn’t want to anger him for no reason. You had no proof Rabban was actually planning anything but fodder to try and convince you to side with him.

Feyd must sense your unease. “Had you what?”

“He wanted me for himself.”

You swear you feel the thopter jolt slightly as Feyd works to regain his control. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I didn’t think it meant anything,” you explain. “I thought he was just…jealous. Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“No.” Feyd’s jaw clenches.

“So then maybe it’s nothing,” you say flippantly, though you’re no longer convinced.

“He can’t just corner you and —”

“I handled it,” you interrupt.

Feyd glances at you. “He doesn’t need to concern himself with you. You are mine.”

You might’ve rolled your eyes if he hadn’t chosen that moment to start your descent. You reclaim your grip on the armrests and don’t bother opening your eyes again until you feel the thopter safely grounded.

“I’ll speak with him,” Feyd tells you. Dust settles as the thopter’s wings fold in.

You frown. “You don’t have to. I don’t want him thinking that I need you to fight my battles.”

“I don’t want him thinking that he can just manipulate you.”

“Who said he was succeeding?”

Feyd smiles slightly. “No one.”

You both step from the thopter. The first thing you notice is the lack of factories. A band of barren land encircles you and, a few hundred yards away, the start of a forest. You squint at the trees — you hadn’t seen that many in one place since your time on Caladan. It’s a comforting sight, despite the eerie sight of the neon green leaves rustling in the stiff breeze. The black sun has begun to sink below the horizon, returning color to the land, but only in small amounts.

“Come, wife.” Feyd strides for the treeline.

“Where are we going?”

Your question is answered, however, when you spot the second thopter. Your muscles tense as you recognize the forms of his concubines, three women, standing against the machine along with four other huddled forms.

As you near, the shapes of the huddled forms come into detail — four men, hooded like the prisoners from your wedding, covered in grime. The concubines each hold one man, the fourth bleeding profusely from a wound; his entire right arm is gone. You feel bile rise in your throat.

“Did you start without me?” Feyd asks his concubines sharply, eyes flicking to the fourth man.

“No,” one of the concubines says, “he did that himself.”

“Y/N, these are the men who facilitate my uncle’s…bad habits.” Feyd steps up to the first one. The man trembles.

He removes his hood and then retrieves a dagger from his belt, pressing the blade into the man’s throat but only enough to draw a thin line of blood. In response, the concubines shift in anticipation. He’s bleeding them so that they’re easy to track.

You watch, wide eyed, as he repeats the process with the other men. You can hardly find any pity for them, these horrible, horrible men, but the ratcheting tension in the air sets you on edge. Your mouth feels dry.

“And now they will know what it’s like to be hunted.” Feyd steps back to admire his work. Then, speaking to the concubines, “These men shall make fine meals for you.”

Your stomach drops. A meal? Did that mean —

The concubine closest to you flicks the fork of her tongue over her black teeth.

Feyd grabs the chin of one of the men. His voice is sickly sweet, almost a purr. “It will be dark soon. You better run fast.”

The concubines release the men. The four of them linger, uncertain, afraid, before the tallest of the concubines lunge for them — the men scurry away, glancing periodically over their shoulders as they run for the treeline. The concubine giggles.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Feyd says. “I know you must be hungry. But not for much longer.”

The women flock to him, kissing his neck, the stretch of skin exposed by his armor. But he holds his hand out to you, and you take it.

“Feyd —” you begin.

“This is what I wanted you to see,” he says. “I told you that I took care of it. My uncle will never touch another child again.”

You swallow. Your gaze sweeps outward, to the forest, where the men have already disappeared. There’s a trail of black blood on the ground from the man with only one arm. How would he survive in the wilderness?

“You didn’t tell me that they…” you glance at the concubines.

Feyd smirks. “They crave flesh. It only seems fitting that I can satisfy them while fulfilling justification of my own.” He tilts his head back, marveling at the darkening sky. “Plus, I so enjoy the thrill of the hunt.”

You don’t know how to reply, so you don’t. Just observe as the concubines grow more anxious until, finally, Feyd gives them the signal. It’s so dark that you can scarcely see, but the dome of their smooth heads glint in the remaining light, and a shiver dances up your spine as the forest swallows them completely.

“They deserve it,” Feyd says to you.

You turn to him. “I know it.”

“Then why do you look bewildered?”

“I didn’t know that Harkonnens enjoyed…flesh,” you admit, repeating his words from before.

“Not all of us do.”

“Do you?”

Feyd’s grin does something to you — runs a finger of desire up your thighs and to your core. He cups the side of your face. “I have my needs, just as everyone else. Why? Are you hungry, wife?”

“No, I’m not,” you answer, nose wrinkling.

“Hm. I am.” Feyd brings his mouth to yours but doesn’t touch it, his lower lip grazing your top. “I want to devour you. I want to feel your heart pulsing, taste it in your blood. I want to consume you.”

Heat pools in your belly. You raise your chin, body bowing to him as if pulled by invisible strings.

Your voice is low. “What are you suggesting?”

“Let’s play our own game,” he says, “I chase you, you keep away from me until the sun rises and avoid the others. Or not.”

“And if you catch me?” You ask, breathless.

“I will satisfy my own hunger.” The hand cupping your face brushes down your neck, your shoulder, over your breast.

“Is that supposed to be a punishment?”

“We’ll see.” A wicked delight smolders in his eyes.

Gone is the man who held you in the tub, who traced the wrinkles in your palm like he wanted to commit them to memory. And in his place is the man you know best, who terrified and enthralled you and had you questioning your sanity; every day drawing you further into his infuriating orbit.

And you ran from him.

You pump your arms as fast as they will go, legs cycling, the promise of him on your heels. This was the epitome of your game, the ultimate test, and you were determined not to fail.

You’d learned survival from your father and Gurney. And even though you had not taken to it as you should’ve, you had been taught the Bene Gesserit way of cataloguing every single movement and flash of light, every detail in perfect memory. And so you ran. And ran.

And you kept running until you stumbled upon your first body.

It was the man who had lost an arm in an attempt to escape from his imprisonment — at least, you thought. He was badly mutilated. Blood covered the ground and pervaded your senses, to the point that the combination of it and his shredded entrails made you nauseous. You were no medical expert but you were almost certain that he was missing organs.

That someone had feasted upon him.

You unwittingly absorb his torn flesh and the evidence of teeth marks. The white of his bone.

You fight down your repulsion. If you vomited, it would give Feyd and the concubines a hint at your presence, the latter who undoubtedly hunted down this man and ripped the flesh from him. So instead you turn and run in the opposite direction, hoping that you won’t meet anyone else.

The slightest of breezes has you flinching, certain that someone will descend upon you and ravish you — one way or another. The thought spurs you on, keeps you from lingering too long in one place. The ideal decision would be to stay still and wait until morning. But you know that Feyd will be as proficient of a hunter as he is a warrior, a lover, and this keeps you going.

Branches tear at your arms and legs, the pilingitam trees seemingly intent on ensnaring you and keeping you hostage. You wish you had a knife or a shield or something. You were left despairingly empty-handed and defenseless. The only weapon you had was your strength, your endurance, the cunning of your mind, which seemed insufficient in comparison to the next man you come across, who is unequivocally alive.

It’s an accident — both of you running in the dark and finally colliding in a burst of pain. You fall backwards on your ass. The man gazes at you in fear until he takes in your clothes, your hair.

“My, my, the na-Baroness,” he says, chuckling at his good fortune. “The na-Baron turned you loose, too?”

“He thought his harpies might need the help,” you sneer back, suppressing a wince as you stand to your feet.

“You don’t have their bloodlust,” the man observes. He looms closer to you. “You might not be the Baron’s typical type, but it must be awfully distracting to have you in the fortress with him. How lucky the na-Baron is.”

His voice is taunting. He’s sure that he’s got you trapped. “And how lucky am I to have found you first.”

The man launches at you. You twist to avoid him but his hand catches your side, spinning you and taking him down with you. His body lands on you, heavy and foul-smelling. Desperately you try to wriggle free from him but his actions are unpredictable. You jab aimlessly at him, hoping to find a weak spot — finally you bring your knee up into his crotch, and it’s enough for you to roll to the side and away. He glares at you.

The dark hinders your senses, but only slightly, trading blows with the man in rapid succession.

He grabs a rock from the undergrowth and raises his hand, intending to smash it down on your head, but there’s a sudden spray of hot liquid on your face. The man screams and falls to the side. You scramble away just in time to witness a blur of pale skin, a concubine with her teeth buried in his shoulder. It’s not long before his screams turn to whimpers as she bites and tears, pointed nails driving into his chest and stilling his heart.

“Thank-Thank you,” you gasp. You’re too stunned to move, unable to move your gaze from the man’s bloodied body.

“I didn’t do it to save you,” the concubine hisses.

Blood is slathered across her face and the front of her shift. Suddenly, you’re not so sure that you prefer her over the man.

“I —”

“You took him from us,” the concubine continues, taking staggering steps toward you. “No longer does he call on us in the middle of the night, mutters our names as we coax his orgasm from him. Now his lips only say your name.”

“I am his wife,” you counter, regaining the control on your racing thoughts, adrenaline subsiding. “I will secure him an heir, rule by his side. All you have to offer is your services.”

The concubine rushes you. It appears that you can’t catch a break. But this time you’re prepared for your opponent, dealing a swift jab to her jaw before she can even lay a hand on you. She reels. You take the opportunity to kick at her knee. She falls to one side. Maybe she knows how to wring pleasure from your husband but she’s forgotten that you, too, are a warrior.

You don’t want to strike her down, just as you didn’t want to kill Ze’ev. But circumstance has left you no choice. You will carve your place on Giedi Prime out of violence and bloodshed if that’s what it takes because that’s how you were taught.

You snap her neck. Her death doesn’t satisfy you, though, as Ze’ev’s did. You take a step back.

A branch breaks.

The harbinger of death melts from the shadows. “Not only have I found you, jewel, but I’ve found you with the blood of my concubine on your hands.” Feyd nudges the limp body with his foot. “They aren’t easy to train.”

“She attacked me.”

“I know.”

You grit your teeth. You’re covered in dirt and blood, both yours and not, sweat matting your hair to your skin. “You watched and you didn’t intervene?”

“No.” Feyd crosses to you. “And I didn’t need to, did I?”

“Would you have let her kill me?”

Feyd gazes upon your face, studying you closely. “Do you think I would’ve?”

“No. I don’t.”

He seizes you suddenly — grabs you by the throat and nearly lifts you off your feet. “If anyone kills you, it will be me. Do you understand? Only my hands can touch your body, steal your blood from it. Watch the light go from your eyes.”

Feyd releases his grip enough to steer you backwards, one hand bracing on the base of the tree and the other still at your throat.

“You are mine,” he growls.

Usually, a declaration of such a nature would ignite a flurry of anger within you. But coming from him, it’s nearly a love song. Possessive. Domineering. Fraught with dark devotion. His fingers on your throat a gift sweeter than any necklace of gold or silver.

Feyd pushes your pants down your thighs, then returns his hand beside your head. He captures your mouth with his. There’s no delicacy there, only fervent need, teeth scraping yours, your lips, tongue combating yours. And you kiss him just as hungrily. You lied earlier — you were hungry. You needed his touch. Needed the swipe of his tongue on your skin to subdue the darkness persistently lurking inside you, the one that he put there, the only person able to extinguish its flame.

He spreads your legs and spears you with his cock. His size, the lack of your readiness, causes frissons of pain to erupt through you and you cry out. Feyd grunts as he thrusts into you, tree bark scraping your palms as you clamor for a hold. He ruts into you with wild abandon, hips bucking, muscles tense as he foists his pleasure on your body.

You mumble your protest when he withdraws from you, just as you’ve stretched out to accommodate him. Feyd strokes himself, slick with your moisture, pre-cum gleaming on the tip of his head. He makes a fist and then presses his knuckles to your entrance, the cool metal of his ring bearing down on your clit. You yelp.

“Quiet, wife,” he rasps, “you’ll draw more unwanted attention. And I’m not done with you.”

He bites down on your lip, drawing blood. If he hopes to silence you, this does the opposite, and you moan into his mouth. Unperturbed, Feyd presses his knuckles against your entrance, the surface of his ring flattening on your clit, a wicked source of pressure — of pleasure — driving you to orgasm.

The coolness of the ring contrasts the heat flooding through you.

This time when he touches you, he twists the ring up his finger, and then, both into your cunt. It adds an extra ridge to his fingers, one that pitches your orgasm again as it slips in and out of you, each thrust of his hand causing you to jolt.

You come and your pleasure cleaves you, into what feels like nearly in half, splitting you down the middle. Feyd returns the ring to your clit until your orgasm subsides, then plucks it off. He offers it to you, pushing it into your mouth, and you eagerly suck it clean.

It tastes of metal, of your monthly blood.

Feyd hums his approval, then presses a kiss to the ring before slipping it back on.

You writhe. You need friction. You need his cock buried in you, his unrelenting pummeling.

Feyd fists the hair at the base of your skull and uses the grip on you to throw you to the ground, naked and quivering. He drops to his knees behind you. You gasp out as Feyd notches his cock at your entrance, grabs your hips to keep you firmly in place. Blood soaks your hands, your knees, the fresh smell of death enveloping you. You try to wiggle away from it but he secures you there with his cock, snapping his hips against your ass and himself snugly inside your cunt.

“Stay here,” he growls. “I want you bloody and spent, here where they can watch.”

You fight back a sob, a combination of desire and disbelief. The concubine and the man lie only a few feet from you, watching you with their glassy gaze, their blood coating your hands.

“They tried to take you from me.” Feyd’s voice is incensed, not entirely for you rather than for himself to hear. “My wife, my jewel. And now they can watch me fuck you amongst their bodies.”

Feyd increases the speed of his thrusts. You can feel him swell with his impending orgasm, fill you even further, deeper. A cry looses from you as he finally spills himself inside you, grinding into you as he finishes and his cock starts to soften. Feyd nudges open your thighs, ensures that none of his seed escapes.

He adjusts himself and leaves you to scramble to your own feet, filthy and, frankly, swimming in the fog of your post-orgasm.

Feyd examines you. “You look wonderful.”

You bark out a laugh, your throat bruised and sore, the sound scraping out of you. “Liar.”

“Of course, you always do, filled with my cum.” He turns you to him, picks a branch that’s woven into your hair. “My beautiful, full wife.”

He grabs your hand and tugs you into the surrounding darkness.

“Should-Should we wait for the others?” You ask.

“No.” Feyd glances behind you. “They won’t be pleased when they find out you killed their sister.”

Part 9

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @kpopnstarwars @m-indkiller @kpopnstarwars @dacreshoney

[cranberrymoons]

a love to last past saturday night

here's the first 3,500-ish words of the coffee shop au i've been working on!

—

There’s a little cafe at the end of Steve’s block that he’s only ever been in once. 

It’s called Corroded Coffee and it’s dark in there and maybe a little pretentious, but not pretentious as in… people reading classic novels or having discussions about French Cinema. Pretentious in the sense that there’s an intimidating collection of vinyl records taking up half an entire wall and they use single origin arabica beans and the scary baristas look at you sideways if you order regular milk in your latte. 

He knows this last part because the one time he did stop in, shortly after he moved to the neighborhood, he asked for an iced vanilla cold brew with cream, and the redheaded girl behind the counter looked him up and down as she punched his order into an iPad. 

“Okay,” she said slowly, disdainful and bored like she was barely concealing an eye roll. “I guess that’s eleven dollars, if you’re sure that’s all you want.”

Steve was sure. He was also sure that he’d never forgive himself for spending so much on a single cup of coffee that he could probably make at home for about fifty cents, but… support local businesses? Use his company card? Also, he was too embarrassed to tell her to cancel the order. 

So. 

Anyway, it’s about three months later when he goes in there for the second time. This time, it’s because his coffee pot broke (a shitty off-brand Keurig that he bought on Amazon for about twenty bucks, which for the record is less than the cost of two iced coffees from this place), and he really has to get to work, and the coffee at the office is – fine, actually, but – whatever. 

Whatever.

The coffee in the office is fine, but he’s walking toward the train feeling like his hair and his tie are somehow both on sideways, and a customer pushes out of the café and into the street, bringing with them a wave of caffeinated air, and before Steve has the chance to make a conscious decision one way or another, he’s standing inside the shop, eyes adjusting to the sudden shift to dim lighting.

When he comes to his senses, there’s a brief moment where he considers just turning around and walking right back out, but before he has a chance, the guy behind the counter leans an elbow against the shoulder-height glass pastry case and says –

“Hey man, what can I get you?”

Too late. 

Steve blinks and focuses on him. He’s tallish with long hair that’s been pulled back into a puffy knot on top of his head, dish towel slung over his shoulder, indecipherable band tee, nails painted black, a flock of bats and a long line of perfect crescent moon phases running up his forearm, and – yeah. Steve, in his crisp Brooks Brothers button-up and ironed slacks, is definitely not the right kind of cool to be coming in here.

“You do want coffee, right?” the barista prompts. He raises his eyebrows in question. “I just watched you Pepe Le Pew your way in here, so.”

In spite of himself, Steve laughs. Call it the exhaustion. He takes a step closer to the counter. 

“You saw that?”

The man grins. “You’re hardly the first exhausted corporate zombie to stumble his way through my door.” He reaches for a paper cup, pen in hand. “What’ll it be?”

“Just – coffee?” Steve suggests, then he flushes. “That was dumb. Sorry. I uh – I don’t really know much about coffee. Just a normal one with milk?” Then, remembering last time, he says, “Oat milk. I guess.”

“One drip with oat milk, coming up. You want a muffin or anything with it?” He taps the glass case with the end of his pen. “These just came out of the oven. The cranberry orange.”

“Oh, I –” Steve eyes the muffins in the case, crystalline sugar on top, shiny and perfect-looking. He does kind of want one, but he pictures himself juggling it and the coffee and his phone and – “No, that’s fine. Just the coffee, thanks.”

The man shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He punches a few things into the iPad then flips it around for Steve to pay. “Three seventy five.”

Steve narrows his eyes. That… can’t possibly be correct based on his last experience with the place, but he taps his card and punches in a tip, then nods to the barista as he shuffles off to the end of the counter to wait for his drink. He sends another look toward the muffins, and his stomach grumbles; maybe there’ll be leftover bagels in the office from the morning’s sales meeting?

By the time his coffee is ready, he’s lost in a very detailed fantasy about veggie cream cheese, and the barista has to wave to get his attention to pass him the cup. When Steve takes it, the man produces a little brown paper box and wiggles it in his direction. Steve frowns, confused.

“Oh, that’s not mine. I didn’t –”

The man raises his eyebrows and holds it further toward Steve. “On the house," he says. "Take it.”

Steve sets down his coffee on top of the case and accepts the box, flipping it open to reveal a cranberry orange muffin wrapped in crinkly parchment paper. He closes the lid and gives the barista a smile. 

“You didn’t have to.”

“Obviously I didn’t have to,” the guy says. He rolls his eyes, but it’s not – it doesn’t make Steve feel stupid the way the other girl had. “You looked like you wanted one, so you got one. Now be a good boy and say thank you."

Steve feels his face heat. “Thank you.”

The barista nods in approval then gives him the ghost of a wink before turning to help another customer, and Steve reclaims his coffee, retreating to the door and back out into the cold.

—

He doesn’t really mean to go back the next day, but – well. The coffee had been good, okay, and the muffin had been really good. And it’s Friday, and he’s allowed a treat, and he obviously hasn’t had a chance to replace his own broken machine yet, so.

He doesn’t really have a choice. He’s here by necessity. That’s it.

“You’re back,” the barista says, eyeing him up and down when he gets to the front of the line. “Was my muffin that good, that you had to come crawling back for more the very next day?”

Steve, more alert this morning than he’d been yesterday, manages to smile like a normal human being. 

“Your muffin?”

“Our muffin,” the barista says. He spreads out his hands in front of himself. “New York’s muffin. The world’s muffin.”

“No, I meant –” Steve laughs. “You made them? It was good.”

“I know it was.” He shrugs, then taps the stack of cups on the counter next to him. “Coffee?”

Steve glances at the menu on the wall. He has a suburban Starbucks level of knowledge when it comes to this stuff, which basically means he knows the difference between like… a cappuccino and a latte, sort of but – not really?

“Just the same again, plain with oat milk,” he says. “That was fine yesterday.”

The barista narrows his eyes. “Fine?”

“Good,” Steve corrects. “It was good. Like I said, I don’t know a ton about –” He waves a hand through the air vaguely. “Whatever.” He fidgets under the barista’s continued scrutiny, then adds, “Maybe sweetened this time though? I added sugar when I got to my office yesterday.” Then belatedly, “Sorry.”

“Tell you what,” the man says at last, apparently taking pity on him. He picks up a cup. “I’ll make you something that I think you’ll like, and I won’t even charge you for it. That way if you hate it, you can just – dump it down the drain or something. No hard feelings.”

“I can pay,” Steve says, frowning. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for giving me a bunch of free stuff.”

“Oh, I won’t. The owner likes me,” the man says easily, already busy behind the espresso machine. A burst of steam comes shooting out in a cloud, and he offers Steve a smile. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Steve,” he says. He hikes his bag higher on his shoulder where it’s slipping down. “Sorry, you probably needed that for the… the cup, or whatever.”

The barista’s smile widens, and he gives Steve another up-and-down look as he waits for the espresso to finish bubbling into the cup. “Nope. Just wanted to know.”

“Oh,” Steve says, feeling himself flush. He shoves his hands in his coat pockets to keep himself from fidgeting even more than he already is. “Okay, what’s yours then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Kind of why I asked.”

The man places the cup on the counter and presses a lid into place, sliding it toward Steve along with another little paper box that, when Steve peeks inside, contains a single croissant. He takes a sip of the coffee, and it’s… delicious, unfortunately, vanilla and caramel and maybe chocolate too? And he’s pretty sure that’s real milk, thank god.

“Come back tomorrow and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“We’ll see,” Steve says mildly, taking another sip. “Thanks for the coffee.”

He gets a teasing little wave in return. 

“Have a good day at work, Steve.”

—

Robin is aghast when he tells her at drinks later that night.

“You’re saying he’s been there this whole time, and you’ve just been – what, walking past and not noticing?!” she asks, leaning forward in her seat. She takes a distressed sip of rosé and widens her eyes at him. “This whole time?”

“Maybe not,” he says defensively. “Maybe he’s new. Maybe – I don’t know.”

“You don’t just give out free coffee on your second day, Steve,” she says, exasperated. She picks up a fry and jabs it into the little pat of mayo on the edge of the plate, gesturing wildly with it before stuffing it in her mouth. “Free coffee and free pastries! He’s totally been there this whole time, and you were just too chicken shit to go in there and see him for yourself.”

“I literally met him by going in and seeing him.”

“Still.” She groans in frustration. “Ugh, I can’t believe you’re getting seduced via baked good. Literally if I could find one single solitary woman in this city who would give me free baked goods as a mating ritual, I’d let her step on my throat.” She places a hand on his forearm and gives him a very serious look. “My throat, Steve.”

He laughs and shakes her off. “You don’t know he’s trying to seduce me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re right,” she says. She finishes her wine and sets the empty glass on the bar with force. “The hot tattooed barista who keeps winking at you and giving you free shit for no reason is totally just trying to drum up a loyal customer base for his coffee shop.”

“I didn’t say he was hot.”

She gives him a contemptuous look. “Is he hot?”

He pokes at the lime wedge that’s floating in his gin and tonic and doesn’t meet her eye. “Maybe.”

“You’re blushing. He’s obviously hot. I hate you so much.”

“Okay, don’t – we live in the Village. It can’t possibly be that hard for you to find a lesbian who likes to bake.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t stereotype. Just because we’re ladies and we have breasts.”

“I’m not stereotyping. I’m just saying: go to any plant store, pick a girl with a choppy haircut and a canvas tote bag.” He finishes his own drink and signals to the bartender for another round. “Odds are seventy thirty she’s a lesbian with a chocolate chip cookie recipe.”

“Literally every word out of your mouth just now was a stereotype. I’m breaking up with you.”

She turns her barstool away from him abruptly, and the guy seated on the other side of her blinks in alarm, looking at Steve over her shoulder with wide eyes. Steve gives him an apologetic look and places a hand on Robin’s arm, tugging her back around to face him. 

“Alright, come on, you’re scaring the public.”

She huffs, then gives the stranger a tight smile, then turns back to Steve. “You’re going back tomorrow, right? I’ll forgive you right now if you promise me you will.”

He sighs. “Why do you even care?”

“Because he’s hot,” she says, widening her eyes, “and he has tattoos, and he obviously wants to take you back to his place and do filthy, filthy things to you, Steve, and he knows how to make really good muffins.” She shakes him again. “Steve!”

“Yes!” he laughs, wrenching his arm free of her hold. “Fine, okay. Yes, I’ll go back tomorrow. I don’t even know his name yet. He said he’ll tell me if I do, so – I will.”

“Oh my god.” She buries her face in her hands. “I swear to god, if you fuck this up.”

—

Steve has always been a relatively confident guy. It’s not that. He’s not normally awkward or even shy. 

If anything, he’s better than average at blending in, even managing to convince his parents that he’s still the same person he was when he was a sports star back in high school: he finished his MBA without flaming out like half his class, he got a good-paying job in the city, he even goes back home to Indiana once or twice a year for Thanksgiving or Christmas. 

He’s normal. He’s… acceptable.

Just – he also knows when he doesn’t know something, and that’s when he gets flustered.

Like now, Saturday morning. He’s been standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom and staring at himself for a long time – probably too long – fiddling with the cuffs of his jeans and the swoop of his hair and the weird little… thing his sweater is doing where it bunches up around his waist. 

Maybe he should change. Or just… not go? Robin would forgive him, right?

Robin absolutely would not forgive you, says a horrible little voice in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like the woman herself. She absolutely would not, and then she’d come directly over to your apartment and let herself in and drag you there herself.

Fine. Just go. 

He takes a deep breath and releases it in a sharp huff. He can do this. He can totally, obviously, absolutely do this. It’s literally just leaving his building, walking three hundred feet down the street to the corner, and entering a coffee shop. That’s all he has to do. That’s all.

He does it.

When he walks in, he casts a curious glance around the space since, for the first time in here, he’s not in a hurry. It seems like no one else is either: it’s busy in a different way than it’s been for the past few mornings, fewer people calling out orders and pushing back and forth through doors, more occupied armchairs and tables with laptops. There’s a record playing in the background, something scratchy and smooth, interrupted by the sound of occasional jets of steam issuing from behind the counter.

And behind the counter is – Steve feels disappointment curdle in his stomach. 

Oh. 

The scary redhead. She’s sitting on a barstool with a knee drawn up to her chest, studying her nails and pretending like she hasn’t seen him. He steps closer to the counter, too close to ignore, and she sighs, looking up at him like his very presence is an affront to her. In spite of himself, he feels a little bubble of nervous laughter crawl up the back of his throat, and he swallows it down.

“Yeah?” she asks.

“Just, uh – a coffee?”

“It’s all coffee,” she tells him in a bored voice. “Are you asking for a drip coffee?”

“Yeah, just that, with oat milk,” he says, then adds, “Thanks.”

She jabs at her iPad then flips it around for him. “Eight dollars. Oat milk’s at the end of the bar, you can add it yourself.”

He gives her an awkward smile as he pays, and she just stares back at him impassively. He’s slipping his card back into his wallet and preparing to run away with his tail between his legs when the door behind the counter pushes open, and Steve’s barista – the nice one who gives him real milk and doesn’t glare at him – backs through it, balancing a tray of cinnamon buns in his arms.

He turns, then spots Steve, and his face breaks into a smile. He sets down his tray.

“Knew you’d be back,” he says, tilting his head with a teasing smile on his face. “Max, this is Steve. We like Steve.”

“This is Steve?” She gives him a once-over, then turns to make a face at the other man. “Seriously?”

Now that’s – “Okay,” Steve says. “I’m literally standing right here.”

“Yes. This is Steve, and today Steve would like a white mocha with two pumps of cinnamon.”

“That’s disgusting.” She makes a face. “Anyway, he paid for a plain drip coffee.”

“I didn’t ask what he paid for. I told you what he’s going to get. Can you make it for him, please?”

She glares at Steve’s barista then slips off her stool with a groan and the deepest eye roll Steve has ever seen in his life. 

“Whatever. It’s your shop.”

“Ignore her,” he tells Steve in a voice loud enough for her to hear. “Max likes to think she’s funny, but she’s actually just judgmental.”

She sticks her tongue out at him then sets about ignoring them, disappearing into a cloud of steam. He lifts up onto his toes to lean forward over the top of the pastry case and get a look at Steve.

“You’re very comfy casual today,” he says, dropping back to his own side. He raises an eyebrow. “Cute sweater.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, feeling himself flush. He tugs at the hem of it as he casts another look around the room. “This is your shop? I didn’t realize when you said the owner liked you, you meant…”

“Yep, all mine,” he says. “I can shamelessly flirt with as many customers as I want. No boss to tell me to get back to work.”

Steve widens his eyes. “Flirting with me, and he won’t even tell me his name.”

The man grins at him, resting his face in one hand. “I guess you’ve earned it.” Steve feels his stomach do a flip. “I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie,” he says, trying it out. It suits him, Steve thinks. “Nice to meet you. Officially.”

“Likewise,” Eddie says as Max passes him the coffee and returns to her stool with a huff. Eddie slides it to Steve across the counter. “Your very disgusting sugary coffee, handcrafted with love by our sweetest barista.”

“Thanks,” Steve laughs, accepting the drink. He pries the lid off to peer inside. “Is this the same as yesterday?”

“Nah, I’m still figuring out what you like,” Eddie says. He waits for Steve to take a sip – another winner, maybe even better than yesterday – then says, “Are you busy tonight?”

Steve looks up from his coffee. Eddie is watching him with an amused tilt to his smile. Steve swallows.

“Am I busy tonight?”

“That’s what I asked. Are you?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Steve clears his throat. “No.”

“Okay,” Eddie says as he folds a cinnamon roll into a box and nudges it in Steve’s direction. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

Steve accepts the box, and before he can second guess himself he says, “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie’s smile is slow and easy. “Good. I wrote my number on the inside of the lid. Text me your address? I’ll pick you up at seven.”

—

When he gets home, he calls Robin, freaking out.

“I didn’t fuck it up,” he says by way of greeting when she answers on the third ring.

“What?”

“Hot tattooed… barista guy,” Steve says, pacing frantic circles around his living room and ripping a hand through his hair. “I didn’t fuck it up. His name’s Eddie, and he gave me a cinnamon roll, and it was really good, and – okay, so it turns out he owns the shop, he doesn’t just work there and –” He stops, staring out the window at the building across the street, unseeing. “And we’re having dinner tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the phone, then a shout, then more silence, and then she says, “Holy shit. What are you going to wear?”

—

After much debate and two facetime calls and eventually Robin just physically marching the three blocks over to help him decide in person, and then him forbidding her from sticking around to interrogate Eddie – when the buzzer goes at seven sharp, 

When the buzzer goes at seven sharp, no games played, he stares at the box on the wall in alarm, half expecting it to come to life and bite his face off. When it doesn’t, he recovers (barely) and jabs at the button to let Eddie inside. 

[chiaraswritings]

Hello can I ask a work from you? :) Maybe Batmom pranks Bruce and the boys (plus steph and cassie) where she goes in labor. By like just putting water on the floor. It’s super chaotic and they all end up slipping on it. She doesn’t tell them it’s a prank until their halfway to the hospital and it’s just super chaotic and funny. Tysm!

Batprank

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Pregnancy, water breaking, pranking, mentions of sexual intercourse, romantic scenes between a married couple. This is not suitable for younger readers. 18+.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Summary: Batmom!reader decides to try out a prank that she found on social media.

Author's Note: Great story idea, anon. Posting this ten minutes before leaving for work, I'm not even dressed yet. So if there are typos or mistakes I'll come back later and edit them out. Don't have bad time management, kids. I hope everyone reading is safe and well, and I hope you all enjoy.

Part Two

Sunday afternoons could only be described one way in this household. Long and lazy, sometimes excruciatingly so. I was scrolling on my favorite social media app again, watching short videos. If Bruce were laying with me, he'd say I was doom scrolling. He often discouraged the kids and I from this practice of scrolling through short videos for hours on end, but there was hardly anything else to do on an afternoon like this. 

I cradled my swollen stomach, one hand resting over my navel, the other propping my phone on the bed. Inside my womb, I could feel flutters of movement, vibrations moving through my stomach. Pausing the video I was watching, I looked down at my stomach. The baby I was carrying had woken and was pushing against the front of my tummy. "Ouch. I know you're just stretching, but you have to wait to come out, little one." I returned my attention to the video of directions on how to fold towels to look like birds. 

My thumb swiped mindlessly over the screen for several more minutes. My brain wasn't really processing anything of what I was seeing. I was mainly focused on the baby's movements, feeling her stretch and kick, thinking about the cradle that Dick and Jason had put together for their little sister several weeks before and how it would soon have a newborn in it. Thinking about the songs I was going to sing to her at night. Thinking about seeing Bruce hold her for the first time. 

After about ten recommended videos that didn't interest me, I got ready to close the app. I might as well do something more useful with my time. As I swiped to view one last video, the picture of a pregnant woman caught my eye. I watched with interest as she emptied a bottle of water onto the floor next to a flight of stairs, before keeling over clutching her stomach and calling a man's name, along with the news that her water had broken. Much to my amusement, her partner came rushing down the stairs, slipping on the water and sliding across the floor on his backside. I couldn't help but chuckle. It was a good prank, though probably staged, as most pranks on this app tend to be at some level. Would this actually work? I wondered to myself. I closed the app on my phone before pressing the power button to darken the screen. Standing up wasn't my favorite, but I wanted to go see what my husband was up to.

I moved down the stairs cautiously, using the handrail. Falling could damage the organs that kept the baby safe, which is why Bruce had suggested moving to a bedroom on the first floor until she arrived. We hadn't done that yet, but it wasn't the worst idea. Anything to keep little Ava safe. Or Emma. Or something. Over the last seven months, Bruce and I had both been advocating for our own choice of name for the baby. Not that it would matter once we were finally able to hold her in our arms. 

Once I had descended down the first flight of stairs, I happened to look back at the steps behind me. It reminded me of the short video I had watched a couple minutes before. I wondered again if the prank actually worked, or if it was staged. What the family's reactions would be if I pulled that sort-of-cruel prank on them. Chuckling at the thought, I started moving towards the entrance to the Batcave.

I followed the stairs down to the dark, cold cave that I had learned to love. After all, this was home to my husband's greatest passion, and I would never try to get in between him and what made him feel fulfilled. I smiled upon seeing my dearest at the Batcomputer. Bruce was fixated on the screen, hardly noticing when I ran my hands over his shoulders from behind, my arms wrapping around his neck. "Hi there."

He looked up, not startled, but he hadn't expected my presence. "You're supposed to be resting."

I pressed a kiss to his bristly cheek. "I got tired of resting."

He turned the chair to face me. His large hands ran over my stomach, trying to feel the movement of his child, but she had already gone back to sleep, it seemed. "Can you wake her up so I can feel her?"

I looked down at him, laughing. "How exactly do you propose I do that?" 

He glared at me, but I could see the smile in his eyes. "I don't know how you do that, I've never been pregnant before."

Chuckling, I pecked his lips. "I'd want to know if you had been." Turning my attention to the screen, I noticed the faces of several inmates that had escaped the nearby asylum recently. "Getting anywhere on the case?" 

Bruce stood before turning me so my back was to the computer before kissing my lips sweetly. "You're not allowed to think about anything stressful right now, do you understand?"

I chuckled, looking up into his pretty blue eyes. "My poor baby, are you stressed?"

"Maybe. Lots of things going on at the moment." My husband knelt in front of me, pressing gentle kisses to my stomach. "Thinking about the case, the pregnancy, the company, the kids, all of it all at once."

My fingers ran through his uncombed hair. "Don't worry, the baby will be here soon, and you can scratch pregnancy off your worry list."

His eyes met mine again as he gently kissed my stomach. "I'll have a baby to worry about then. You'll tell me right away when your water breaks, won't you?" 

Smiling, I took his face in my hands. "You'll be the first to know. After Ava and I, of course." 

Bruce's eyes narrowed playfully, and he stood up once again. "You mean Emma?"

I chuckled and pulled him down slightly to brush my nose against his, our lips not quite meeting. "I mean Ava." 

"You mean Emma," Bruce grinned, kissing me passionately, stroking my stomach with his thumbs. A giggle escaped my throat, but I didn't break the kiss. He moved his hands to my hips, his caresses moving to my sides. 

"I thought you guys promised not to have sex in the cave anymore?" Stephanie's voice cut through our kiss, causing me to jump and Bruce to turn his head to glare at her. 

"We are not having sex, though we still can at eight months," Bruce gave me a side glance. 

I returned the glance. "You try having sex with a nearly full-grown baby in your tummy. Give it a try, let's see how you like it."

"Fair enough," he muttered before pecking my lips. 

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she passed us. "Disgusting, don't talk about it in the cave anymore either."

I chuckled, giving the girl's shoulder a squeeze and my husband's cheek a kiss. "I'm heading back upstairs, sex talk averted." 

Feeling Bruce grab my hand, I turned my head back towards him. "You will tell me when you go into labor?"

Reassuringly squeezing his hand, I smiled. "I promise I will. But I'm pretty sure we have some time before that happens." 

I made my way up the stairs, leaving Bruce to grump about our moment being interrupted. When I reached the landing, I was greeted by Alfred, who offered me a tall glass of water. "You'll remember what the doctor said about water consumption, madam," he held it out to me, and I almost reluctantly accepted it. 

"I do remember, but I don't think I can consume much else after that wonderful lunch you prepared for us, Alfred." 

"Flattery gets you nowhere, miss. Drink it all." He stood there so expectantly, his gaze piercing me like a sharp knife. Hesitantly, I sipped from the glass. My words had been the honest truth, I was still full from lunch. At least finishing a small amount got Alfred to turn and head back towards the kitchen. 

I looked at the glass in my hand that was still nearly full. Finishing it completely would be too impossible a feat at the moment, but I didn't feel like pouring it down the drain. I thought once again of that short video, of the woman with her own bottle of water, and suddenly, I knew exactly what to do with the remaining water. 

...

I had successfully emptied the glass of water onto the floor, a puddle beneath my feet. I made sure to splash some on my clothes before stuffing the glass inside an indoor potted bush. Someone would find it later, I was sure. The prank had been set perfectly next to the staircase on the marble flooring. Observing the scene, I grinned. If this actually were to work... 

"Damian, go tell your father that my water broke!" I yelled up the stairs for the person I knew to be in his room. 

I saw his head pop around the corner, observing with narrowed eyes, already suspicious. He was always suspicious. But my staged scene was convincing enough. Holding back mirth, I watched as his eyes widened and he made four bounds down the thirty stairs before disappearing into the Batcave's entrance.

Before I could get my laughter out of my system, Bruce, Stephanie, Damian, and Tim were tripping over each other in their haste to be by my side. I clutched my stomach and groaned in mock agony.

"Mom!" I watched with amusement as Tim rushed to my side before falling victim to the puddle of water and slipping, falling and sliding across the floor on his backside. Stephanie, ignoring Tim's accident, was the first to arrive at my side, her enthusiasm clear.

"Is Emma coming?!" She put her hand on my stomach, trying to feel the movement of the baby. I couldn't help but chuckle slightly while acting like I was in pain. 

"You mean Ava is coming!" Bruce was about to scoop me into his arms, but instead, slipped in the puddle and landed next to Tim on the marble floor. I ignored my husband's groaning and decided to fight for the victory, while still clutching my stomach. 

"Ava? You really mean it?"

"Yes!" Bruce hastily picked himself up, but I could see his bruised ego underneath his concern and panic. Before I could ensure that my battle for my daughter's name was won, I was picked up and nearly dropped again as Bruce clumsily fought with the closet door that stored the delivery bag we had packed a month or two before. "Timothy, get the bag out of the closet!"

I covered my mouth to keep my laughter inside. Tim had been watching the scene with interest from the floor, but he snapped to attention to retrieve the bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jason rounding the corner, looking like he had just woken from a long slumber. 

"Wha's goin on?" His sleepy eyes weren't registering the display before him. 

"Your mother is about to give birth in our hallway!" My poor husband growled before marching with me to the entryway of the mansion. 

"Oh, congratu... huh?" Jason blinked at me. 

"Alfred! Where's the damn car!" Bruce was sweating at this point, but I was thoroughly amused. This prank actually worked.

"In the garage, sir, would you like me to fetch it for you?" Alfred, the only calm soul in the vicinity, called from the kitchen. 

"Yes! Right now!" 

Seconds later, I was being half carried, half hauled out the front door. A small crowd of our family members had gathered, trying to be as helpful as they could, but in reality it was simply Cassandra and Stephanie badgering Bruce with questions about when they could come see the baby, Tim slipping once again in the puddle, and Jason trying to get through to Dick's cell phone. It was when I was stuck in the back seat of the car like a bag full of golf clubs that I decided it was time to come clean. "Guys, I'm just kid-" 

I was cut off when Damian slid into the seat next to me with his beloved sword drawn. "Come on, Pennyworth, drive!" His words were intensified as he waved the sword in the air. 

"Damian, no, it was just a-"

"Damian, you put that away this instant!" Bruce cut me off once again. "You'll kill your sister before she's even born!" I could see Alfred giving us a side eye from the driver's seat.

"Bruce, Bruce, my water didn't even-" 

"Don't worry, one of the kids will clean it up, let's go!" He pushed Damian out of the seat and took his place before slamming the car door shut. 

Alfred glanced at us from the rearview mirror. "Yes sir, is the madam comfortable?"

"No I'm not comfortable!" I grabbed Bruce's hand, trying to get his focus as the car pulled out of the gates.  I noticed that the car was turning the opposite direction of the hospital. "Darling, I was-"

"I know it hurts, just hang on," he pressed a kiss to my cheek before proceeding to dial Dick's number on his cell phone. "Why isn't he picking up?!"

"It was a prank!" Laughing, I grabbed his face in my hands, forcing him to look into my eyes. "Darling, darling, I was just kidding. It was a prank." 

His eyes were blank for a moment before the realization hit. "Are you ser... (Y/N)!" 

Chuckling, I pressed my lips to his forehead. "She's not coming yet, I just wanted to see if you'd fall for it."

"But of course I would... did... fall for it..." He grabbed my hand in mine before sighing and kissing the back of it. "Alfred, she pranked us."

"Yes, sir, she certainly did." I could see the butler's half amused glare from the mirror before the car came to a stop at a red light.

My husband pressed a kiss to my lips before giving me an unamused look. "We're naming her Emma, you've lost your naming rights."

I burst into laughter, returning the glare. "I am her mother, I have naming rights!"

He chuckled, shaking his head at me. "Not after that stunt. Don't you agree, Alfred?"

Alfred didn't respond to the question, but instead nodded at the shopping center next to the stoplight. "How convenient, we happen to be right next to the madam's favorite restaurant, shall we make a stop?"

"Yes, that's perfect." Bruce pressed a kiss to my cheek as the car pulled into the parking lot. "I'll get your usual and we can bring it home?" 

"Perfect indeed," I chuckled, still in shock that my prank had worked so well. I rested my hand on my stomach while my husband stepped out of the car. Watching him disappear into the doors of the restaurant, I looked over at Alfred. "This restaurant is nowhere near the hospital." 

"I do know that, madam." 

"And we were supposed to be going to the hospital." 

"Were we?"

"You knew?" 

Alfred turned in the driver's seat, holding up the empty water glass I had stored in the bush just minutes before, giving me a displeased glance. "I'd bury it a bit deeper next time, Miss (Y/N)." 

Part Two

[mariposa-writes]

Stressed - Travis Kelce

Travis Kelce x reader

Summary: Travis just wants to help you.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Trying to put more Travis fics out there, since there are barely any. This is my first time ever posting on here, please let me know what you think. Thanks and have a great day!

You sat at Travis's dining room table, looking over your stack of bills. It felt like they were never-ending, and it seemed like no mattered how much you worked there was never enough money.

You were constantly stressed, over everything. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd felt even slightly relaxed. The bills you received yesterday, were much higher than expected. Then you had to find time to work at your job while interning at KPMG, one of the top accounting firms. Not to mention you had 3 essays due soon along with multiple assignments. Plus Travis had some event he wanted you to attend, where you would officially be showing up as a couple.

You guys had decided to keep your relationship on the DL for the past year and managed to keep your relationship hidden from the public.

Travis placed a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten home. "Hey, it's just me." He chuckled, finding your reaction funny. You got up out of your chair, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Sorry," you mumbled before cleaning up the mess you'd created on his dining room table.

You quickly hid the bills under some of your notes, not wanting Travis to know you were struggling. You knew Travis all too well, knowing he would want to do anything he could to help you, whether that meant paying off your student debt or paying all of your bills. Hell, he'd probably even higher someone to write your essay's for you if you asked.

You were his world, and he was willing to do anything to make your life easier.

You quickly shoved the papers into your backpack, "I'll get started on dinner. I didn't realize what time it was." You said, getting ready to head into the kitchen.

"Hey," Travis grabbed your wrist, leading you back to him. "What's wrong?"

You blinked a few times, "Nothing, everything's fine. Just tired." You plastered a smile on your face, trying to be convincing. His eyes narrowed, clearly not believing you.

He sighed, deciding to let it go. "Why don't I cook tonight." He suggested, "You can go take a relaxing bath or something."

"Are you sure?" You asked knowing Travis didn't normally cook, "I can help if you want?"

"Babe, don't worry, I actually can cook, believe it or not." He laughed slightly.

"Not," you mumbled. You'd guys been together for a little over a year, and he hardly ever cooked. If you didn't feel like cooking, then you'd guys either order in, or he'd have his private chef come cook up a meal.

He slapped your butt as you turned to walk away, "I heard that." You laughed before rushing up the stairs to take a shower.

You loved Travis's shower, especially when he was with you. Sadly he was cooking dinner, so you had to enjoy the waterfall shower alone. At least you got to make the water scolding hot when you were alone, Travis always accused you of trying to burn your skin off with how hot you liked the water.

After your shower you changed into one of his shirts, that went to mid thigh on you and threw on some shorts you had in the dresser Travis had gotten for you 6 months ago.

You ventured down stairs with a smile on your face, feeling slightly relaxed after your shower. You could also smell the food from down stairs and it surprisingly smelled delicious.

Your smile quickly left your face when you turned the corner and saw Travis standing over your bag, with papers in hand. "What are you looking at?" You asked, despite already knowing what he was looking at.

Travis dropped the papers on the table, "Why didn't tell me you were struggling to pay your bills? Is this why you've been so distant lately?" His words were unexpected, you didn't think you'd been distant lately. You always tried to be in the present when you were with him.

You snatched the papers up and shoved them back into your bag. "You had no right to look through my stuff." You seethed. You couldn't believe he actually went in your bag and looked through your personal belongs.

"Well, I feel like I have to cause you'll barely talk to me anymore." Travis threw his hands up, frustrated at the situation.

You walked to the kitchen and grabbed your keys from the counter. You hated fighting and all you could think about was getting out of there before it got worse. "I have homework, I need to go home and finish it." You stated, walking out of his front door and to your car.

"Y/n" He called, following you. You ignored him, opening you car door and getting in. He caught the door before you could slam it shut. "Babe, don't leave please. We can talk about this."

"Trav," you pleaded. "I don't wanna fight right now. I just wanna go home."

"Bab-" you interrupted him by closing the door, starting your car and backing out of the driveway. He stood there watching you the whole time.

_____

The next day you had gotten up and went to your classes. Travis had been texting you all day, but you weren't responding.

You didn't know what to say, you felt like Travis had invaded your private information. Travis was an open book, he would tell you anything you asked. But you were more closed off.

You didn't trust people as easily as him. Maybe, because of the way you grew up. You learned to be independent form a young age and your mom always taught you to never trust anyone.

This caused some issues between you and Travis, even if you didn't realize. Like the time he bought you a car because, he didn't want you driving your old beater that had trouble starting up during the winter.

He worried that it would break down and you'd get stranded somewhere. Well, you're still driving that car and Travis has a spare car parked in his garage since he refused to return it.

You walked up to your apartment, feeling even more tired than normal. You hadn't been home all day, after your classes ended at 2 you went to the place you're interning at and worked until 6, then you went to your other job and worked till close.

It was now 11:15 and when you opened your door, you didn't expect to see Travis sitting on your bed. His head snapped up when the door opened and you walked through. "Trav, what-"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked through your stuff. I don't wanna fight, I love you so much baby and it kills me when you're mad at me." He was now standing in front of you cupping your face with his hands. "I just want to make your life easier. You could've told me you were struggling. I would've helped you pay your bills."

You sighed, leaning into his hand. Travis loved physical contact, while you were the opposite. You hated hugging your friends, or anyone for that matter. But when it came to Travis you craved his touch. "That's why I didn't tell you. I knew you would want to pay for everything and fix it. I can handle it myself, I've been doing it for the past 22 years. "

"Just cause you have been doing it doesn't mean you still have too. I'm here now, you're not alone anymore." Tears started to well up in your eyes.

"But what happens when I become dependent on you, and you leave me" He tried to cut you off, to tell you that'd never happen but you kept going. "Trav, you have literal super models in your dm's. What if you wake up one day and realize you don't wanna be with me and you want to be with one of them." You were crying now, you'd never voiced these fears to Travis. He wiped every tear that fell away with his thumb. "Then I'm alone and I don't know how to function on my own anymore, because I'm so dependent on you."

"Babe, I'm never gonna leave you." He knew where these thoughts were coming from. "I'm not your father, I would never leave you because I thought I found something better."

"How do you know?"

"Because I already know that you're the best there is." He took your hand in his. "Babe, we fit together so well. You fit with my family so well. Jason and his family love you, my parents love you, and most importantly I love you. So I'm begging you to stop shutting me out. Turn to me when you need help."

"I love you too Kelce." He leaned down, his lips meeting yours. His tongue slipped between your lips, making you moan. You were certain that he was the best kisser in the world. This continued for a few minutes, you growing wetter by the minute.

"Move in with me." He said, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes widening, "and before you say no, just know that I've been thinking about this for a while. This isn't a split second decision."

Your mind told you no, but for once you decided to listen to your heart. "Yes." He smiled, before his lips meet yours again. He lead you over to your bed and you two had the best night of your life.

[mytheoristavenue]

TMNT 2012 Raphel Hamato x Reader - Give Me a Chance

This was a commission from @virtualdonutenemy, thanks for the work! For any questions regarding commissions, go here.

Summary: After Raph watches your date with a classmate go south, he makes sure not to waste you getting all dolled up.

Warnings: Inuendo, angst, fluff, lime, possessive!Raph, overprotective!Leo, sheltered!Reader, rebounding, lust, sad/desperate!Reader, perv!Raph

You weren’t capable of letting down your smile. There was just no way, you were too excited. After months of subliminal flirting, bashful compliments, and loaning pencils, the cute guy in your comp sci class had finally asked you out and you couldn’t be happier. 

Carefully, you drug the felt tip of your lipgloss wand across your bottom lip, pursing and puckering to spread the shimmer evenly. Glancing down at your phone, you read the time and beamed again. You’d have just enough time to put on some earrings and shoes before having to leave. After doing so, you did a once-over in the mirror, twirling and giggling at the way the hem of your dress flew outwards. Suddenly, as if to rain on your parade, your phone began to buzz, shimmying around in its spot on your bed.

You were expecting to see the name of the gentleman you were meeting tonight, probably calling to cancel your evening plans. The name of your ‘eldest brother’ scrolling sideways across the screen brought you little relief, though. If the boys found out about your date, no doubt they’d try to interfere.

“Hello?” you answered cautiously, pacing through your living room.

“Where are you right now?” Leo’s stern voice rang out through the speaker.

“Home, why?” you asked, secretly impatient as you checked the time. Now you were definitely going to be late. 

“Hang tight, I’m on my way.” The announcement was so sudden that you hardly had time to react but blurted out a flustered opposition.

“N-No, I have a date!” Silence befell his end and you began to wonder if the line had gone dead or he’d maybe lost signal somehow. 

“A date?!” Leo furiously sprang back to life. “With who?!”

“The guy I told you about the other day…?” you murmured, hoping he could recall the conversation well enough for you to avoid elaborating.

“You didn’t tell he’d asked you out!” He pressed further, irritated at your lack of communication. 

“I knew you’d freak out!” you reasoned, a distressed tremble in your voice. “And besides, I didn’t think it was your business!”

“Your safety is our business,” Leo argued, stony as ever. “(Y/N), you know the rules.” The ‘rule’ in question forbade you from doing most things that required you to leave your home unless for school, or to visit the lair; on the few occasions you were allowed to, you were to wear bland clothes. Nothing attention-grabbing like the low cute, crimson red spaghetti strapped cocktail dress you now wore. “There’s no way you can be discrete in that dress, what if someone sees you and follows you home or worse-”

“Please, Leo!” you suddenly interjected. “I rarely ever leave get to do anything and I really like this guy! Please just let me do this one thing!”

The eldest sibling paused for a moment as if taken back, before finally sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you promise to be careful? Call us if anything- and I mean anything- goes wrong?”

“I swear, Leo!” You promised, holding your fists tightly to your chest, likely to keep your heart from beating out of it as you waited for his response. 

“Fine,” he reluctantly submitted, shaking his head on the other end. “Have fun and be careful, okay?”

“I will, thank you so much!” You squealed, excitedly stomping in place before abruptly hanging up, presumably to be on your way.

Rolling his eyes and pivoting to return to his training in the dojo, Leo froze when he noticed Raph standing in the doorway to said room, peridot eyes zeroed in on the exit. Before the older knew it, he was being passed by as the other turtle prepared to leave. “Don’t follow her,” Leo warned knowingly, crossing his arms as his younger brother bustled about the room to gather his things. “This is a terrible idea and you know it.”

“Leo’s right, Raph,” Don piped up, exiting the lab and trekking to the kitchen, empty mug in hand. “You know how she gets, there’s no way this is gonna end well for you.” The first pair both glanced up at the new player in the conversation before going back to it. “I’m just sayin’ I speak from personal experience,” the brainiest turtle continued, pouring his umpteenth cup of coffee for the day and stirring additives into it. “Give her some space, man.”

For just a moment, the hotheaded brother halted, taking his family’s advice into account, before ultimately deciding that, he wouldn’t heed it. “Yeah, whatever. You guys don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he grumbled, continuing his descent down the stairs toward the exit of the lair. 

Obviously, the others didn’t know you the way he did, he thought. They didn’t know how clumsy and gullible you could be, how badly you needed his guardianship. That's what he told himself anyway, it would be much too embarrassing for him to admit that the real reason he was following you out on this date was to pretend that the guy you were going out with was him.

—--

You stifled a giggle, kicking your legs beneath the table and clenching the rusty satin of your dress in your fists, all in an attempt to calm yourself before your date arrived. Admittedly, you were a tiny bit disappointed to find that your date was nowhere to be seen, even though you were five minutes late yourself. Nonetheless, you got a table for the two of you, ordered a pair of waters and an appetizer, then waited. The tantalizing smell of garlic bread enticed you as it sat untouched in the middle of the table. You thought it was probably bad etiquette to start eating without your date.

Minutes ticked by as your throat became more and more parched- no doubt a product of your constant nervous swallowing. Surely, it wouldn’t be too rude to sip your drink while you wait. Before you realized it, your glass was nearly empty and a waitress was at your side offering a refill. She glanced down at you with a sympathetic smile that you didn’t quite understand at the time before turning and hurrying away. Another check of the time revealed your gentleman caller to now be nearly fifteen minutes that, though to you it felt more like thirty. Screw this, you were hungry.

One basket of bread and another refill later and you found yourself obsessively checking your phone for any word from him, only to find yourself sorely disappointed every time. You were very rapidly beginning to lose hope, when suddenly, your phone vibrated, dancing about on the table. You hastily checked it to find a text from the man of the hour:

“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Sick.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears well up in your eyes until you felt them roll off your chin. Even though he’d excused himself as ill, you still felt so…unwanted, so cast aside. Shuddering, you instantly flagged down the waitress, desperately trying to conceal your hurt. You just wanted to pay out and go home.

—--

From a nearby rooftop, Raph watched the entire scene unfold with glossy eyes. It almost reminded him of the pilot to a show you’d made him sit through last summer, only this wasn’t a sitcom. This would likely have a lasting effect on your self-esteem. 

He was a little relieved when you finally stood up and stormed out of the restaurant, frantically wiping tears away with your wrist. You were a bullet train now, racing down the avenue needing to get home as fast as possible. Startled, Raph jumped to his feet, seeing his time to intercept you being diced into seconds. In the blink of an eye, he was on the wet pavement of a sketchy alleyway, stalking behind as your figure darted between cars and tall structures. 

Suddenly, he halted in his pursuit of you- what would you say if you found him following you? There was a good chance you wouldn’t just fall helplessly in his arms like he hoped you would. Was there a way he could surprise you and sweep you off your feet without letting you in on his possessive tendencies?

—--

Wailing, you barged into the lobby of your apartment complex, face hidden in your shoulder as you blew past the doorman, cutting his greetings short. Too embarrassed to sit in anyone’s presence long enough for the elevator to arrive, you burst through the stairwell door, clumsily speeding up them, tripping all the while and crawling back up yourself. After falling up four flights, you finally reached your floor and bolted for the exit, fantasizing about the way your plush bedding would envelop you in security. Still sniveling, but with sanctuary within reach, you shoved your key into the lock and threw the front door open, only to fall forward into the apartment dramatically, catching yourself before gravity could take over.

Exhausted, you haphazardly tossed your belongings onto the floor, shedding layers and accessories as you traversed the space. Heels in the hall, purse on the couch, and earrings on the kitchen island, you finally reached the bedroom in only your red cocktail dress, dainty necklace, and smudged makeup. As your fingers gripped the door handle you stopped, smelling something smokey, possibly with a floral hint. Alert to a possible intruder, you raised your guard and prepared for the worst before gently pushing the door and letting it creak open on its own.

Beyond the door, Raph lounged on your bed, waiting for you to arrive home. Surrounding him were throw blankets and pillows, an open take-out box with a steaming pizza, piled with your favorite toppings, and a rose-scented candle burning on the nightstand. Illuminating it all was your television, set on the menu screen of your favorite childhood film, the remote control resting on his chest. “Welcome home,” he said cooly, voice full of gravel, but a languid smile speaking volumes. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that poured from your throat as you lurched forward, collapsing against him.

Raph went rigid beneath you, having been concealing his anxiety about your reaction for quite a while. As you heaved and wept against him, he eased back into you and slowly wrapped you in his arms, hushing your woes. “Dollface, what’s the matter?” he asked carefully as if he didn’t already know.

“Leo was right,” you shuddered. “I never should have gone out with that stupid prick!”

“A date, so that’s where ya been?” Raph asked lightheartedly, pushing you away by your shoulders so he could see your face. “No wonder you’re all prettied up.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words and blood rushed to your face. “Now tell me who that asshole is and what he did to you.” 

“H-He…” you sniffled, sitting up fully on your knees and in between his. God, you looked so vulnerable in that position, and the way the ruching of your dress pulled your waist in- That wasn’t the point. “He just never showed up…” you muttered weakly. “He didn’t tell me he was sick ‘til way after he was supposed to be there…” You couldn’t keep yourself from crumbling again, falling back into his arms. 

“Shhh…” he cooed, scaly hand caressing your shuddering back. “I got ya, babe, it’s okay.” What seemed to be hours passed with him simply holding you as you cried when you finally spoke again, albeit in a quiet and broken tone. 

“R-Raph, do you think I’m pretty…?” 

“My God, babe, is that even a question?” he suddenly snorted, prompting you to erect yourself to gain distance from him. He could plainly see the hurt in your eyes as you loomed over him, though his eyes were elsewhere- darting all over your body and eating you up. “Like seriously, how honest do you want me to be, 'cause we’ll be here all night.”

“I don’t want you to lie…” you answered, anxiety bubbling up in your blood. 

“I mean where do I start?” he laughed, hands ghosting over your hips, but never actually making contact. “You got these perfect hips and that pretty face, tight ass,” he smirked as you flustered more and more above him, eyelids becoming heavy with want. “You’re a total fox baby.” he dazzled, finally laying his hands on you. “I always wanted to make you feel pretty, just give me a chance baby and I swear, you won’t ever doubt yourself again.” You felt dizzy under all his attention. You’d always had a feeling Raph had a crush on you, but you never would have thought him so passionate. Gradually and instinctually, you leaned closer to him, hazily sealing your lips against his, humming lightly. Kissing him felt so natural, and so necessary, neediness taking you whole.

“(Y/N), I love you,” he confessed, eyes trained on your lips as he parted from you. You weren’t entirely sure whether or not to believe him, as everything around you moved so fast but you felt so special… “So whadaya say, dollface? We got food, your favorite movie, and all night…” he persuaded you, pulling you closer into his lap. “I can help ya get changed into something a little more comfy if ya want...”

Finally, your painted lips curled into a beaming grin and tears pricked your eyes once more, this time for overwhelming joy. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Taglist: @sunshinesdaydream @helpyaw @thelaundrybitch @momii @camillahorne26 @turtle-babe83 @fyreball66 @sharpwindow @roseygardenfan @witchofthenorthstar @pheradream15 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @hyunonion @killmewithafanfic @virtualdonutenemy

[marivoid]

This one shall do well against the Survivor. Wouldn't you agree?

No, I would not. Is it wise to allow a fight between them? Our Survivor does not stand a chance. I wouldn't want to lose him so soon.

Oh he will be fine, One. He has lasted this long.

But against the likes of a warrior such as her?

He will do fine.

What about that crow? It is a constant warning for the Survivor. She would not be able to land a hit.

No. But I do not believe that crow will be allowed in the Game.

How do you know? That insufferable Gamemaster and Wishmaker-

-Do not listen to a word we say. Yes. I know. They're ungrateful for the lives we gave them, but what can we do? They twisted our own words against us.

There has to be a way, Two. Our Survivor needs to win. How else would we get him back to his Test Zone?

That is where our special project comes in. G1 may have escaped our facility... But T2 is not a failure. It was a brilliant move to grab it whenever it was much younger. More... How would you phrase it, One?

Compliant. Willing to believe everything we said. Now its mind is getting curious. If it gets too curious and suddenly gets access to that doomed world... How would you know it would even encounter our Survivor? Or even return?

We make it believe it will die. Simple. Those trackers are very hard to remove after all. Send periodic shocks to T2, each one stronger than the last. Whispers of doubt and a few Reteachings should do the trick.

That is what you said about G1. But that was a failure. It grew a backbone and escaped halfway through our tests!

Please remain calm, One. Believe me when I say this one will go swimmingly.

I hardly trust that anymore, Two.

Ohhh how you hurt me! Now, go get T2's plans ready. I shall see what we can do about the Warrior. She will be participating in those Games at the end of this month. When we are three days away, send T2 to our Survivor. His chip may be weak, but I should be able to locate it. Maybe even have T2 recharge it!

That... Would be a great opportunity to recharge his tracker. Wouldn't it?

It would! It would! You are starting to see the bigger picture One!

I suppose I am. Maybe you still have a conscious left.

Oh I have a conscious! But I cannot promise that I am sane!

"Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling?" A warrior would ask a demon.

"It's probably just nervousness before MCC! You'll do fine!" The demon would assure the warrior.

"Brian if you don't stop PECKING MY NECK-"

"... Hello?"

[simpforfandoms]

If possible, would you be willing to write Remy LeBeau x reader on their first date. Please and thank you

💜

I tried really hard to write a first date but I just can’t so this is as close as it gets

You don’t know how you got here, one second you’re chaperoning a prom and the next Remy is asking if you want to get out of there. And maybe it was the spiked punch (did they really think you wouldn’t notice?) or the fact that you had the slightest bit of a crush (god you sound like a highschooler) on the red eyed mutant that made you say yes. So that’s how you end you’re taking a stroll with Remy throughout the courtyard looking for any teenage mutants doing scandalous things and talking about pointless things

“In France is french kissing just kissing? Or french fires just fries?” You ask

Remy gives you a look, “I’m not French”

“But you know French?”

“Yes but I’m Cajun not French”

“Okay but you can still answer the question.”

“probably just called fries.”

“I thought so.” You shrug, you pause before adding, “not that you have to answer but, what happened between you and Rogue.”

You have been curious. You had heard rumors that they had gotten a divorce so in your eyes his response could be “I don’t know what your talking about” or just confirm that they had divorced. Nevertheless you convince yourself that they’re still together, as not to get you’re hopes up.

He shrugs, “we wanted different things”

You stay silent even though you know you should probably comfort him. Thoughts running through your head a hundred miles per hour. Wait so if him and rogue weren’t together does that mean that this wasn’t just a friendly stroll, could it be like a date? No. Remy could never see you romantically. You hardly know the guy besides secret glances and friendly conversations. Plus Anna Marie is so cool. After being with her he would never go for you. He’s an x-men, you’re just a teacher that teaches at the academy. Nothing special. Not like you save lives or anything. Unless you count evacuating the school as it blows up for the hundredth time.

He eventually notices your long standing silence and asks you a question, one that you didn’t hear but mumbled a ‘yes’ in response.

“do you wanna go somewhere to eat?” He asks

That brings you out of your daze, and you shoot him. A questionable look, “what? We still have to chaperone”

He rolls his eyes, “I never signed up to chaperone”

“What? Then what are you doing here?”

He lets out an oh so attractive chuckle, “isn’t it obvious darlin? I wanted to be with you.”

What. Why would Remy Lebeu of all people want to be with you. As previously discussed, he was an x men and you were, well you.

“So you went to a boring school dance just to be with me?” You almost laugh at the absurdity.

“it’s almost summer, you’ll leave soon and I won’t see you”

“And that’s a problem how”

“God do you play dumb.” He chuckles, “cause I’ll miss you.”

You? He’ll miss you?!?! You?!?!

As if he can sense your questions he answers, “I’ll miss over hearing your lectures every morning, and you always saying goodnight to everyone in the building including me, and how you remember my coffee order after I told you one time-“

“That’s because it’s just black.”

“My point is, I’ll miss you”

“I’ll be back in 3 months” you say

“To long to go without seeing you”

You laugh, “fine I can go for a burger”

…

“This is the best burger I’ve had in my whole life,” you state before taking another bite

“I’ve had better”

“Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes

You look at the time, “oh shit we have to get back before Charles realizes we’re gone.”

“I’ll handle it, don’t worry darlin.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

.

After some delicious burgers Remy walks you back to your dorm or living quarters.

“Sooo…” you pause, “I had fun.”

“Me too.”

“goodnight Remy” You go to turn around but he grabs your arm before you can. And gives you a goodnight kiss. Was it everything you imagined? Maybe.

…

[junicult]

note ; it’s just so easy to blurb abt harvey rn even though i wish i could respond to asks. studying for finals & i have sm work that’s why i’ve been a little slow recently 😓

just thinking about harvey, ever the gentleman, meeting your parents for the first time.

despite him being the sweetest, probably the best kind of man that your parents would want you to end up with—he’s never been anxious like this. or at least, it’s been a long time.

you dropped the bomb on him in the middle of a very peaceful evening. he had a nice day at work, he’s spending an even better night with you—yet the news suddenly threw a wrench into his serenity.

it’s like you forgot the kind of man you’re dating. while in the back of his mind he’s eager to meet the people he knows are going to be his in-laws someday—it’s the same reason why he’s frightened to meet them.

first impressions are everything, so for the next week he’s going to be asking you questions about things you hardly even know.

what’s your mom’s favorite meal? what does your dad do for a living? what kind of people are your parents? do you think they’ll like him?

“well considering my mom asks about you all the time, yeah, i think they’ll like you.” you giggle, watching his features soften despite his stiff shoulders.

and when it’s the day your parents are set to come into town, it really has been a long time since he’s felt this sweaty.

you haven’t seen him this anxious in so long. it’s endearing how important it is to him.

while he always dresses well, he made a little extra effort today. button up tucked into his slacks, his tie around his neck sitting neater then usual, his hair combed. he sits at the kitchen table bouncing his knee anxiously, looking off into space in deep thought you know is eating him alive.

you, however, sit in your cleaner work clothes, hair like always, maybe a couple extra pieces of jewelry on.

you’ve done your best trying to ease his worries, but even you know there’s nothing that’ll convince him from the worst. there’s no amount of, “honey, they’re going to love you. i promise,” that’ll calm his nerves.

and even though when you brush a couple of his stray hairs behind his ear, leaning down to kiss his forehead, reassuring him once more—he still feels his heart drop to his stomach when he hears the couple knocks on the door.

you greet them warmly, just as a daughter who hasn’t seen her parents in months would. he stands back, wondering what the hell he should be doing with his hands, and if he’s smiling correctly.

when you turn to him, introducing him as your boyfriend, he’s too distracted to notice the look of reassurance you shoot him. sliding your hand across his back, resting your cheek on his shoulder for a moment while he reaches out to introduce himself.

he shakes your parents hands with a warm smile, praying to yoba they don’t notice how clammy they are.

the entirety of the evening is spent with the majority of you catching up with your parents, asking about other family members and hearing about their lives. you carry the conversation significantly—but when it becomes time for your parents to begin asking him questions, you allow him to speak.

he’s good with conversation, so ignoring the fact that these are the people that raised the love of his life—he can manage his sentences without a single stutter.

and when he’s able to make your father laugh, you can practically see the weight lift off his shoulders.

it’s midway through the evening when you come back inside after giving your parents a tour, he stayed in to make you all dinner. you had a moment to come up to him while your parents were off in some other room, wrapping your arms around his waist and peeking over his shoulder.

“how are you doing?” you hum, fixing your gaze on his when he turns to look at you.

“much better.” he chuckles, stirring up the contents in the pot. “how’d they like the farm?”

you giggle. “they love it. my dad got all sentimental about it,” he doesn’t miss the fondness laced in your voice. “guess what?”

he shoots a glance over your head, before humming, “what?”

you squeeze his torso a little tighter. “my mom just told me she loves you. probably more then me, actually.” you tease, leaning over to see his cheeks darken and his lips purse into a smile. “my dad, too. in fact, he said you’re a good man.”

your voice drops an octave to mimic your fathers tone, making him exhale out a laugh through his nose.

though, hearing that made the smile on his cheeks hardly budge for the rest of the evening.

he’s beyond glad his impression made your parents feel that way, even more so because it only indulges his thoughts of your future. and while he could’ve shit his pants when your father pulled him aside after dinner, humming one last greeting, even going as far as to saying, “thank you for treating my daughter so well, she speaks very highly of you,” it makes his heart ache.

hearing your father’s approval, affirming your love of him in the same sentence—well, he almost collapsed.

feeling so nervous for days—really months because he knew he had to meet them at some point—and hearing that was like the deepest breath of fresh air he’s ever received.

so what he’s been in past relationships, maybe their parents liked him as well. none of that mattered, though. because this is the one that really counts. this is the family he wants to be acquainted with the rest of his life.

you’re the one that’s bringing these people into his life.

and really, he should be the one thanking them.

because without them, you’d have never stumbled into his life. and without you, he truly wouldn’t believe in this future.

[lostloveletters]

All That Heaven Will Allow (John Brady x OC)

Summary:  We’ll fill this house with all the love / all that heaven will allow (AO3 link)

Note: This literally wouldn’t exist without @karasnonsense99, Woody and Brady’s biggest hypewoman and someone I’m so grateful to call a friend. This is the visual reference for the dad!Brady vibes that almost made me feel ill. So. Title comes from the Bruce Springsteen song which should surprise no one. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None besides some inevitable inaccuracies.

“I’m glad we skipped the parade this year, it’s too hot out for her,” Woody said. She laid the newspaper she’d been fanning herself with on the kitchen table, watching adoringly as John cradled the baby in his arms, allowing her to wrap her chubby hand around one of his fingers.

“She’s only two months old. How has she gotten so big already?”

Woody folded her arms over her sensitive chest, her lips twitching up in a smile. “Guess.”

John grinned, nuzzling his nose into their infant daughter’s squishy cheek. “She’s got a healthy appetite.”

If Woody wasn’t sure she could fall any more in love with her husband, the day their daughter was born made her feel like Cupid got her straight in the heart. 

It’d been almost a year since she told John she was finally ready to have kids. For all of his prior eagerness, she thought he was a lunatic when he suggested they plan it. ‘So he’ll be born in the summer, when I can be home with you,’ he had said earnestly. Except he was a she, and she was born at the end of April, a Taurus who had her parents’ hearts wrapped around her tiny finger the moment she wailed at the world.

Happy, healthy, nothing short of perfect, they brought her home, and Woody felt relieved that the nurturing, maternal instinct that passed over her own mother was alive and well in her. 

John wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed their first child was a girl. He’d sing to her, make up soft, sweet little songs about Samantha, bounce her in his arms with the rhythm that came so naturally to him until her cries turned into bubbling laughter. The corners of his eyes would crinkle at the sound, and he’d start laughing too. Woody might as well have been in heaven.

Her parents never sang to her as a child. Stale air and empty silence composed the soundtrack of the Woodward residence—hardly a house, certainly never a home. A place where people slept and breathed and moved around but didn’t live.

It’d taken getting used to, being in a place that felt so warm and alive, love radiating from the floral wallpaper John’s brother helped them put up one weekend, the couch his mother bought for them when Woolworth’s was having a sale, the piano they found on a curb one afternoon and spent weeks fixing up until she could hear the sound of John playing from the other side of the house.

“The fireworks are gonna start soon,” Woody said, glancing at the clock on the wall, a wedding gift from one of his cousins.

He nodded, standing up from the kitchen table and passing Sammy to her mother. “I’ll throw the blanket over Blue’s cage and get some music playing.”

Out of all the pets they could’ve gotten, a parakeet probably wouldn’t have made anyone’s list. Upon moving into their first house, John graciously agreed that pet ownership could serve as the test run to assuage Woody’s fear of motherhood, specifically whether or not she even had the emotional capacity to care for something that relied on her so heavily to survive. Blue—a temporary name which ended up being not so temporary—fit right in with their noisy household. Whistled and chirped along to John’s music, and picked up an expletive or two from Woody, which was funny until Sammy came along.

The Fourth of July marked a little over two months since she’d given birth to Samantha Brady, and Woody no longer felt like the other shoe was going to drop and motherhood would end up being some big mistake she couldn’t handle. It certainly wasn’t easy. Woody worked at the garage as long as she physically could during the pregnancy, and John taught private music lessons after school and during the summer to make up for the gap in their income. Even then, the belt tightening meant less things like going to the movies or out to dinner, hardly feasible with an infant, anyway.

Typically, the parade in town started early to avoid the worst of the heat before it settled in, but she and John would end up spending so much time talking to other couples and families, people from their parish that they’d run into, both of them would be sweating by the time they got home in the afternoon. It was one of few holidays they didn’t join his family for, despite one of his uncles hosting what Woody had heard was one hell of a barbecue. 

Fireworks were a crapshoot, generally unwelcome on the Fourth, and the odd ones New Year’s Eve. Loud music and a little alcohol ended up being the solution, a house party for two, though adding a baby into the equation made their tried and true method more uncertain.

He joined them in the living room, having successfully tricked the parakeet into thinking night had already fallen. The first few times they’d done so, Woody felt bad for the poor bird, but she supposed there would be things she’d lie to Samantha about too, like Santa Claus and transubstantiation. 

“Alright Sammy, first song of the evening’s your pick,” he said, holding up three singles from their impressive record collection. It seemed silly at first, working that into their budget, but John’s students were always bringing up new music, and he liked to be in the know, found it easier to teach them songs they were interested in learning.

Sammy vaguely kicked toward one of the singles.

“What’d she choose?” he asked.

“The Louis Prima one.”

“Interesting.”

“She probably likes it because of the sleeve,” she said. “It’s bright blue and the other two are just plain.”

“She’s developing her own taste already.”

Woody laughed. “Just put the song on, Johnny.”

He did, dropping the needle on the 45 and taking her free hand to pull her in for a kiss. 

Two hours, half a dozen singles and LPs, and a diaper change later, the only indication of the fireworks outside had been the faint flashing through the curtains, hardly noticeable among their raging party of three. 

John declared a break after finishing his second glass of whiskey and leading a tango Woody practically tripped through, but she was absolutely thrilled when he dipped her at the end of the song and gave her a kiss. The break turned into him dozing off on the couch just before the roaring Latin record ended.

Woody switched over to the radio, setting the volume loud enough to drown out any fireworks, and took Sammy into her arms.

Slipping outside, she held the baby close as they watched the night sky light up red, white, and blue from the backyard. Sammy squealed when the first firework burst, her big eyes sparkling as the falling embers faded in the distance. She threw her little hands around in excitement until tugging on a thick lock of Woody’s hair.

“I know, baby. Aren’t they pretty?” Woody cooed. Her gaze was glued to the sky as the next few fireworks went off. “That’s where you came from, straight out of the sky to save me, just like your daddy,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose into her daughter’s wispy hair.

She pressed a kiss to her cheek and nearly laughed when she saw that Sammy was asleep. After watching one more firework go off, she went back inside. Unlike their daughter, John stirred awake when the back door closed.

“There you are,” he mumbled.

“Would you believe she fell asleep out there?” Woody said, her voice carrying softly over the sound of the radio.

He yawned, sitting up as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I can believe it.”

“No, you stay. I’ll put her up and be right back.”

“Not without letting me give her a kiss goodnight.”

Woody easily conceded, a small smile on her face as John kissed Sammy’s forehead. 

She brought Sammy into her room, carefully placing her in her crib. There had been plenty of sleepless nights since the baby had been born, Woody taking on the bulk of them since she wasn’t working, but sometimes, John couldn’t sleep anyway, and the following morning she’d find him asleep in the armchair in the living room, baby in his arms and the radio playing low. When she’d wake him up to take Samantha, she tried to make sure coffee was already brewing—it was one of few things in the kitchen she could do well.

When she returned to the living room, he had his pipe between his lips, smoke slowly rising above his head.

“She doing okay?” he asked.

He reached out for her, and when she put her hand in his, he pulled her onto his lap. Her laughter mixed with a shriek of shock, a joyous howl that pierced the air as she situated herself. She glanced toward the stairs, and hearing nothing from their daughter, said, “Absolutely perfect,” and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How about you?”

“Couldn’t be better,” he said. “Beautiful wife, healthy daughter, and a bird that knows how to whistle along to ‘When the Saints Come Marching In.’”

“Really though, you’re good?”

“Yeah, I am, sweetheart.” He was silent for a few moments as he puffed on his pipe. “She was worth the wait.”

“So were you. I didn’t know I could be this happy.”

He smiled. “Me either.”

[onyourhyuck]

Can We Go Back? | K.JW

— Prologue: “Can we go back please?”

— Summary: You have a tiny crush on Jungwoo. Problem is Jungwoo is helpless and oblivious to your feelings no matter how many hints you drop. One day you see him talking to another girl hugging her and it breaks you down.

— Genre: Romance. Smut. Minors Dni. Fantasy werewolf!Jungwoo x werewolf!y/n. College setting. Extreme angst. Y/n loves Jungwoo but has extreme fear of rejection. Possessive and Jealous Jungwoo. Jealous and possessive Y/n. They do it at the back of Jungwoo’s car. Car Smut. Markings. Big Dick Jungwoo Agenda.

— Notes: Can We Go Back is Jungwoo’s song fr.

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Jungwoo. Jungwoo. Jungwoo.

Your thoughts were smelt into nothingness leaving only a certain someone on your mind. The most important part of it was the boy you have developed feelings for. Your college friend Kim fucking Jungwoo. You guys became friends quickly in your first semester because you are both werewolves going to school in a human common populated college leaving only humans. There is hardly any werewolves or any other supernatural creatures. You must say it was a lucky day to meet Jungwoo that day. You would’ve felt alone on every full moon.

Now every full moon you spend it with Jungwoo. Whenever there was a full moon on the weekday and you happen to have a class you both come in super tired and snappy; it’s like dealing with two children waking up cranky from their deprived sleep. The full moon makes every werewolf easily tired as well as hungry and easily sensitive and distracted.

And whenever something wolf related happens you always cover for Jungwoo and he always covers for you. Last month he helped cover your lectures classes and kept notes for you because you started your heat at that time. For a week you stayed home until it was gone and you returned like nothing happened because Jungwoo had all the information for you to keep up with your classes.

You felt like there was a connection or something. There vertically was flirting between you. I mean you dropped plenty of hints to him that you like someone and that someone is freaking him but that boy was as oblivious as anything you seen before. You weren’t sure if he was a mole rat considering how blind he is! It frustrates you. It certainly does.

In the class business everyone was dismissed by the professor up the front lecturing everyone. You elbow knock Jungwoo off the desk who was sleeping away his life with a little drool coming out the open wide mouth. “Wake up class ended!”

He jolts up from the desk standing up quickly and in a daze he looks at you, half asleep, the beautiful brunette wavy hair from sleep. “I’m awake! I’m awake. Class ended already? Whoa that was the quickest class of my life.”

He treads out the class with you by the side. You guys were discussing tonight’s plans because it’s another full moon but this time you guys were talking about staying at his house celebrating it. You were discussing all sorts of things you should have like snacks and what kind you’d want. Jungwoo was more than happy to have you come over, but he was slightly hesitant about specifically YOU coming over knowing his two roommates Jaehyun and Doyoung will probably steal you away from him.

Jaehyun and Doyoung have met you a few times. Once you were walking Jungwoo home and they saw you outside walking their friend. You live in another neighbourhood not far from where their house is so you were home in like another fifteen minutes. Let’s just say the boys were teasing Jungwoo day and night about you asking all sorts of questions.

“Come on why can’t I come over to your house? You said it was fine and now you’re changing your mind again.”

Jungwoo sighs. “Let’s go to your house Y/n. It will be so much better. In my house we have two idiots who want your attention and keep wanting to see you.”

You squint your eyes at the reasoning it definitely sounded like Jungwoo did not like his friends getting close to you for some weird reason. Your shoulders bump into him playfully as you teasingly trail.

“Oh you’re jealous they will take your place is that it?” You shot at your friend and he looks at you glaring at your face knowing you are teasing him.

He rolls his eyes. “No. No that’s not it. You wouldn’t understand it’s a…”

“It’s a what?”

“It’s a guy thing okay.” He huffs out and you roll your eyes at Jungwoo knowing he is just too stuck up his ass to admit that he wants you to himself.

The both of you were about to walk home. The activities you love doing together was usually just walking anywhere and everywhere without worrying and talking non stop until we get tired and head back home again. You love having deep conversations the most. Jungwoo was surprisingly good at keeping conversations going you have no idea — that boy can ask about hundred questions in only one minute. You were constantly speaking but you love that. Jungwoo loves listening to you. Your voice makes it soothing and your presence he can basically wear it.

Your love language was definitely quality time and Jungwoo was the same. You enjoy spending time with the boy. It doesn’t matter if it’s doing nothing, doing nothing with Jungwoo sounds haven. It sounds like a freaking jackpot.

Jungwoo suddenly stops realising something. “Oh I almost forgot. I have to meet someone today.” The figure turns around facing the campus. You wonder who does he have to meet? A lecturer? Maybe Doyoung and Jaehyun? You weren’t sure. You stop on your tracks no longer walking.

You tilt your head. “Oh okay let’s go then.” You were about to walk away. Your body moved on its own and Jungwoo stops you on the tracks. “I gotta go alone Y/n. The person asked me to meet them privately. You can go home alone today.”

‘Home alone?’ Your mind repeated the last words like a breathing taking ending to your heart. You don’t want to go home alone. It feels weird walking alone without Jungwoo by your side. Your expression was confusing but he could tell you were pained thinking about it. You shake your head standing by the gates exiting the campus.

“How about i wait for you instead?” You’d ask.

Jungwoo looks at you seemingly liking that idea but he wasn’t sure how long this meeting would last. “That works too. I don’t know how long it’ll take but if you can wait for me that’s fine too.”

Whoever this person was it made you want to find out. You know everyone Jungwoo knows and he knows everyone you know. How come you don’t know this person at all and what’s the big deal? Usually Jungwoo would tell you everything he speaks about with people it’s a big shocker right? You know every secret he knows. You’re like two secret agents conspiring against each other’s enemies. But right now it did not feel like that. It felt like a big change and you hate change honestly.

When the boy left the scene to go meet this person the empty campus you couldn’t help but track Jungwoo behind. You felt awful stalking your friend but you couldn’t ignore this curiosity of yours. You want to know if Jungwoo is okay, you tell yourself that it’s because you were worried for him. It wasn’t wrong but it certainly wasn’t the only feeling as to why you’re following the tracks.

You’re doing this for your own sake too. You were following the lead behind a pink tree up the front you stay low behind the bushes watching through the jagged thorns. You wonder why was Jungwoo at a Sakura blossom tree? This place was where couples go and kiss claiming they will be together forever and ever. Which always sounds lovely if you’re in love.

‘I wonder if i should take Jungwoo here to confess…’ you trail thinking to your own smug thoughts.

But as your thoughts were interrupted hearing another female voice approaching Jungwoo from the Sakura tree you felt an intense wave of anger and jealous hit you stunning your tainted heart and breaking it with cracking it with a half. Your hands ball as you saw Jungwoo smiling down at her as if he was never that cheerful in his life before. That girl holds out a chocolate box made up in a heart shape smiling at Jungwoo back.

Did he come here to hear a girl confess? You must be kidding me. You repeatedly thought why he was so distant and it’s because he was getting a freaking confession! He left you for another girl.

To say a goodbye to your confession idea because you were a step loose and another quicker fish took the bait to do it. The girl whoever she was you never knew someone was there you could want to urge to kill and you weren’t aware of it until you saw jute girl and Jungwoo hug. You ran away at that time.

You couldn’t believe your eyes it hurt too much to watch any longer. To see your crush hugging another girl that wasn’t you?

‘He definitely said yes to her. He definitely did. She was totally his style that he likes.’ Your thoughts were killing you from inside and out.

You were complementing the idea of staying and waiting for Jungwoo in that moment when you come back to the campus exit. You slowly walk away but a voice brought you back from your venous thoughts like it was a dream all along.

But it wasn’t a dream. Jungwoo runs up waving. “Y/n! You really waited for me sorry it took so long.” The boy came with that chocolate box in shape of a heart and your eyes immediately came back to reality. This was not a dream this was a nightmare.

Your daggers point at the chocolate box. “What’s with that? Don’t tell me you took so long trying to find chocolate.” You murmur crossing your arms together. Jungwoo looks down at it shrugging. “Oh that! Don’t worry about it. Someone gave this to me. Let’s go home before it gets any darker.”

You never wanted to go home so fast before. You wanted to cry and cry until you were done from the tissue box becoming empty. The walk was sort of silent because you didn’t want to speak, if anything you wanted to be left alone in your own room, bringing dramas and shutting yourself from the world until you forget this ever happened.

Worst part is Jungwoo didn’t tell you anything about what he was doing there. If you weren’t there following him you wouldn’t even know about this leaving a big betrayal on your heart knowing your friend who you have feelings for, would do something so terrible to you. If only he wasn’t so dumb to notice them at all.

“You’re awfully quiet Y/n.” He trails opening the chocolate box and eating one piece. His eyes light up liking the scent and the taste.

He looks over at you. You were trying so hard not to be mean but how could you not be? The guy you love is eating the chocolates of his possible new lover now!

“I feel like being quiet today. You got a problem with that?” Your voice was a complete different tone from before which made Jungwoo stop for a bit and slowly run up to catch up with you. Your pacing of walk changed his and you were walking faster as if you were trying to leave him first.

He squints his eyes suspiciously at you. Something definitely happened to you and he needs to know now.

“What’s up you look like you want to chew something and spit it out.” Jungwoo points at you a little bit seeing how tense you really are.

You glare. “Nothing is up Jungwoo. Nothing at all is freaking up.”

He raised his eyebrows. Whoa he never seen this much attitude in a person before. Jungwoo points one piece of chocolate at you. “Are you okay? You seem angry actually. I can tell something is wrong. Want a piece of chocolate it will make you feel better?”

Your hand smacks the chocolate out his hand stomping your feet as you scream unknowingly you did. This was all your built up frustration speaking and your grief knowing you probably lost your freaking friend to your feelings now. “I don’t want your fucking chocolate Jungwoo. God you’re so fucking blind— are you a freaking mole rat? Cant you see what’s been happening around you?”

In fact the boy can’t see what’s happening around you because he was stunned to his boots seeing you do a giant outburst like that. Jungwoo for a moment saw your eyes turn into this malicious creature that could kill him if he did another wrong step. He stands there seeing your face grouch and your hands swing as the chocolate fell on the floor somewhere far away. He couldn’t understand though.

What was happening? What was he not seeing all this time? Jungwoo was a lost soul he couldn’t figure this out no matter how many times he thought it through.

“I’m sorry did i forget your birthday or something? I swear your birthday is next week.” He would suddenly speak after your long pause of silence and god you never wanted to smack someone so hard.

You look away scoffing. “Birthday? Jungwoo my fucking birthday is in November. We are in middle of May!” You swung your arms around walking away as you turned like a similar umbrella excusing you.

Jungwoo follows you from behind shouting. “Then what am i not seeing Y/n? What’s happening. Why are you angry tell me.”

You stop turning around. Jungwoo gently bumps into your back before you turn around pointing a hand in his chest repeatedly. It felt like a literal stab down his heart.

“I’m tired of trying for you Jungwoo. I really fucking am. You figure it out what’s wrong. You keep hurting me because of you I’m so upset.” You growl pulling away. “I don’t need someone as dense as you to walk me home I can do it alone. Oh and about that Full Moon at your house? You can fucking cancel it! You can bring along your new girlfriend to it instead.”

He was loss to words seeing you walk away from him for the first time ever he was left outside and a striking thunderstorm falls down on him. He held the chocolate box trailing wondering what you meant. ‘Girlfriend? What girlfriend?’ At least he thought until the flashback made him remember everything. You saw it. You saw the Sakura blossom and you probably thought he was ditching you.

God he felt like a stupid idiot for not connecting the dots quicker. He grabs his head and dropping the chocolate box on the ground as it was raining heavily soaking the clothes to the skin so tight. ‘My lord I’m an idiot. Darn it how will i fix this.’ Jungwoo never ever wanted to turn back time and let the world know of how much of a mess he just created.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“What an asshole, Y/n. Glad you sort him straight. You don’t need someone like him around you causing you trouble on your good heart.” Your roommate and friend Momo said. You were venting your whole heart to the young Japanese girl. She was an exchange student from two years ago and ever since then she was always there to let you vent if you couldn’t tell to Jungwoo because most of it was Jungwoo related problems.

If these weren’t Jungwoo related problems. You would’ve told Jungwoo. Unlike him who can’t tell you everything you felt betrayed by him and all you were doing was laying on your bed sobbing your eyes out at every tissue and Momo was here keeping you the company with a bunch of kdramas.

You sniffle with your red nose all from blowing the tissue on it so much. “I can’t fucking believe it. Was I not good enough for him? Did he really have to choose her over me. I mean I don’t get it. What does she have that I do not?”

You tried to think about it. But simply comparing yourself to a human it was a clear reasoning but at the same time it didn’t make sense.

Momo trails. She was a vampire living with you and many would think that’s quite controversial speaking wise because Werewolves and Vampires aren’t really meant to be friends. But you and Momo were a change to that statement.

She was a good friend. Very understanding and caring and she has life experience of thousand of years dating wise so she could always give you dating advice without a credit.

“I don’t see it. I mean werewolves prefer werewolves don’t they? Why would he spend his limited time on a human girl.”

You glare at the ceiling rutting back and forth on your bed rolling side to side like a wrap on your blankets. “I don’t fucking know. I thought I was very clear with my feelings. I mean on Valentine’s Day I gave him his favourite perfume because he ran out! So why am i in the fucking friend zone.”

“But a human girl got there in a day. I’ve been trying for years. But a human girl did it in one day.” You slam your hands on your face constantly. This was killing you and Momo taps your shoulders comfortingly.

She grins playfully. “I can drink from her if it makes you feel better?” The vampire fangs poke out and you smirk shaking your head. Sometimes Momo scares you how fast she could really drop the nice act and fully bite someone drinking them dry.

But not everyone is perfect. Momo at least has some self control. You sigh. “It’s just… I can’t imagine living without Jungwoo in my life… it hurts to see him go away.” You trail depressingly again and Momo could say she was the life in your eyes wither away like a dead flower decomposing on a dead winter night.

“He will come back. If he doesn’t I’m sure it won’t take long till he realises that he’s in the wrong.” Momo would push the remote out suddenly changing the channel. “How about we watch Goblin together to get your mind off him?”

Goblin? You heard Goblin and never wanted to get up so quickly. You sat up crossing your legs over the other letting Momo join you on the bed sitting in the similar position. You smile suddenly completely forgetting your problems for a whole minute.

“Man I love the grim reaper so much.” You said holding your knees. Momo smirks tapping the remote on her legs as she saw the main characters. “You can take Lee Dong Wook but I’m taking Gong Yoo any day.”

You and Momo slowly sank in a deal.

Meanwhile over at the household with the boys having a full on dead meeting. Doyoung couldn’t believe his eyes to see Jungwoo stressing finally over you. It took him some time to come to a realisation that he’s so blind the right person was right in front of him all fucking alone. Jaehyun on the other hand was nonchalant about this and told Jungwoo to just apologise and go on the knees in front of her house. But Jungwoo knew tha wouldn’t work.

Begging on the knees doesn’t work for you he knows this. Apologising maybe works but going on the knees and looking pathetic? It wasn’t your go style. He knows you don’t like people begging you for forgiveness it actually annoys you. You weren’t sure what you wanted yet but Jungwoo knew it was something more healing than stressful.

“I really fucked up with Y/n.” He sighs holding his hands together in deep thought.

Jaehyun blurts out. “You really are blind aren’t you? How did you not know that she had feelings for you.”

Jungwoo stares at the older boys in front of him. He loosely lowers his head running his hand through the thick bouncy hair he has. “I… don’t know. It all makes sense now but god I’m useless at this love stuff.”

Doyoung was quick to comfort Jungwoo and trail softly to give an advice rather than lecture the younger boy to death. “The full moon is tomorrow why don’t you make it up to her then? Just meet with her and speak I think is all you need to do.”

He looks up nodding. Yeah? Maybe all you need is a good long deep talk. One conversation can fix a lot and Jungwoo might be able to get on your good side with this, or well he hopes he can.

“And don’t mention that girl to her.” Doyoung warns.

Jungwoo silently swears just by getting in that warning. He still has the sparring images of you smacking the fuck out of his hand at your angry outburst.

He shivers in fear. “God tell me about it. I never knew Y/n could have such anger inside her.”

Must be that full moon effect getting to you too because Jungwoo is here becoming fidgety.

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The very next morning Jungwoo had a very clear vision planned out. He will sit next to you and speak to you about what happened yesterday. He will ask you to meet him straight after class and then he will explain exactly what went downhill yesterday and how much he was a complete asshole and a mess for not realising sooner everything.

But when he entered the classroom tell him why you were sitting with the class president chatting to him and laughing with him so happily as if nothing happened yesterday between you and him?

Jungwoo stands there shocked and a little bit wounded in the heart seeing you become buddy buddy with Mark Lee. You were the happiest he’s ever seen with Mark. It kind of annoys him.

He wasn’t sure why it was so annoying until he realised that perhaps, he does like you too. That perhaps maybe all along he was oblivious to his very own feelings too.

Jungwoo saw how everyone was sitting somewhere only he was not. Simply standing in middle of the entrance dazed at how you moved seat from him. He was hurt to the point he wanted to throw Mark off the seat and take that one back so he could sit with you but that’s to an extreme. It doesn’t help that today is a full moon so he’s so fucking tired it doesn’t even explain how much he wants to doze away.

He sat down back into the old seat sinking in it and having such an empty right side aches Jungwoo deeply.

If this is what you felt yesterday when you saw him and that girl he was terribly upset by making you feel this way. He’s such an asshole. He definitely feels like it right now.

‘God this is such a long lesson…’ Jungwoo trails in his own thoughts see the professor walk in to start the class.

‘God this is such a long lesson what am i going to do now.’ You thought in your head when the professor came into the view front of the green chalkboard.

Your thoughts were the same even though you weren’t aware of it just yet. You both wanted the same thing. You both wanted each other.

‘I wish you were here to distract me from how boring this lesson is.’

As the lesson was carried on you and Mark kept on speaking very loudly to his ears it really irritated Jungwoo from where he sat far from you yet he was very much not far enough because he can hear that boy highkey simp for you. Oh god badly he wanted to just snap something in half.

Crack…

Jungwoo looks down at his pencil dwelling on how much it snapped so quickly in his hands just by the strength of the fingers. These full moon side effects have been getting to him honestly.

He puts the pencil away grabbing a new one out the pencil case however someone offered a pencil from another view. Jungwoo looks up seeing the girl from yesterday showing down a pencil.

He gulps seeing how much this could look in your eyes but he really needed a pencil.

“Jungwoo here take this. You can keep it.” The young human girl smiles down at the boy finding him too cute to deny.

He looks around and grabs the pencil nodding his head showing gratitude. “Thanks Minyoung.”

As you were about to turn around your eyes caught the same girl in front of Jungwoo giving him a pencil. In that frame work seeing Jungwoo smile up at her and thanking her; it truthfully made you lose your shit in that moment.

Mark saw how disconnected your expression was. It was like a mix between anger, jealousy but also intense sadness in your eyes. He looks behind to see what you were probably looking at and he saw Jungwoo and a girl at the frame angle speaking.

“Hey Y/n what’s wrong?” Mark slants down blocking the view Jungwoo in your eyes suddenly and you stare at Mark looking away.

“Nothing. Uhm.” You say shakily and Mark saw how you were clenching your work in your hands. He chuckles seeing you. “Uhm you’re squishing your work…”

You let go off the paper realising how much you squished it together into a paper-ball. God you weren’t aware how much you were doing with your hands it’s as if you dissociated from reality.

“Oh uh. Thanks. I wasn’t sure what that was.” You nervously laugh it off and start to up bundle the paper ball back to normal. ‘He really doesn’t need to show off his new relationship with her.’ Mark saw you acting this weird he wonders what happened between you and your best friend.

“Did you and Jungwoo have a fight by any chance? I’m just wondering because… you guys are really far apart from each other today.”

Mark saw you turn around for a while watching him. You weren’t sure what to say or what to do. You wanted to say yes but then you didn’t want to seem like you were going to Mark only because of that. You sigh looking around.

“I’m sorry. You’re in between all this mess now.” You say and Mark shakes his head grinning. “Nah don’t worry about it.”

“What did you guys fight about?”

You look at the Canadian boy as your eyes fell to Jungwoo you saw him staring you down so intensely you could feel a shiver run down your spine. You clear your voice. “I’ll tell you later. I don’t really wanna discuss it in class.” You said as you turn around and Mark respected your choice. He goes back to doing work with you.

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You stand outside your car unlocking it. The class ended and you’re on your way to go home and probably cry some more until your heart no longer can prorogued tears and you no longer feel like you’re in pain suffering.

But as you were entering your car putting the bag in the back seats. Your seatbelt on and you driving off while starting the car engine by the car key. You saw a running boy in front of your car suddenly and you stop on your breaks. You saw the boy nearly fall over as he was running in front of you as you were about to drive out the parking lot.

You gasp fearing he might be hurt because when you realise who the boy your eyes were tearing up. Fuck you almost ran over Jungwoo.

He yells outside but you could hear him well although it was a little muffled due to you being inside the car. “I need to speak to you Y/n!” He shouts.

“Geez fucking Christ you nearly got ran over what if i actually did that! You’ll frame me for your stupid death.” You shout back scolding him. The car door unlocks and Jungwoo heard it approaching the empty door and sits in the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly turn around pulling the car back into the parking lot where you stop the car from being on. You turn it all off and let you guys sit in a peaceful silence.

Jungwoo took his time recollecting a strong monologue to say to you. He was nervous as hell and you could hear his heartbeat coming out nearly.

“I… I’m really fucking sorry Y/n. I really am for everything.” Jungwoo’s body swings around catching you off guard. “I’m sorry for being a really bad friend and for not listening to you. I’m also terribly sorry for not telling you the truth but— let me explain before you say anything else.”

You shut your mouth when you were about to say something but you only nod alerting Jungwoo to know you’re okay with him explaining now or never.

He stares at you for once as if he was relieved to see you and honestly very glad you were being lenient on him and not so harsh like yesterday. He admires even though you weren’t aware of it, he admires you a lot. You do a lot of things for him that he took for granted long before you even developed a liking to him now.

He softly spoke looking down at his hands. “I rejected her.”

You shot up from your seat wondering what he meant by this. You tilt your head escaping out a soft ‘Huh?’

“What do you mean you rejected her?”

Jungwoo stares at you replying back quietly. “I told her i already had an eye on someone and that we can’t be anything more than just college classmates.” He clears his throat and you stay there stunned glaring. You raise your hand and slap his arm. “You — you made me think you were with her because you were hugging her!”

He looks back at her holding his chest wondering what’s with the slaps. He thought you were going to be happy to know he rejected her!

“Ow! Wait ow ow— what’s with the slapping Y/n! That hurts please calm down.” He held your wrists as a way to stop your attacks and pulls you closer to the passenger seat your faces coming close. Your lips barely away from one another and your breathes itching to just be taken away. Your voice came as a surprised whimper wondering why he was staring you down like you were his dinner meal tonight.

“And fyi i hugged her because she asked for one not because I was willing to.” Jungwoo paused. “I really only want to hug you. Without asking you. Without knowing it’s you I just want to be on you with my arms wrapped round you…”

You couldn’t help it but your overthinking senses were playing a heightened role of you becoming drunk on Jungwoo’s scent and the way his body was stretching out to hold you so close. The way his hands were barely at your waist but moving closer to pull you in with them. You were shocked to see Jungwoo becoming so reciprocating to you and your feelings it truthfully felt like a liquid dream you were in but at the same time this felt too real.

Too real to capture in a mere dream. The way Jungwoo’s eyes darken seen you and thought of you. Your brains were synch as one and now all you were wanting to do was makeout heavily. Jungwoo pushed you into the backseat as your lips crashed together without wasting any second he was moving quicker than his body could handle. You were squirming to the back slanting in the back seats underneath him it felt like a dream come true to have you breathing so heavily thanks to your deep enticing makeouts you were sharing together.

“Jungwoo…” a moan escapes like a rewarding prize for him to claim and he sucks on your bottom lip pulling it apart.

The hands securing your clothes were slowly undressing you until you were left in your bra and underwear. You slowly undressed Jungwoo too leaving him shirtless and in the boxers parting on the small waist of his. You straddle his waist pulling Jungwoo even closer and he swore he fell in love just by your legs forcing him to be closer to you than before.

“I like you saying my name like that.” He chants around your neck kissing down until he met your collarbones slowly giving it a suck on that skin. You shiver as it starts to rain outside and you’re both naked in the back of your car with nothing but your body warmth together.

You felt both connected together like you were one. He held you tight enough to leave you wanting more. Hugging wasn’t even an option anymore you want to be under his skin. Your fingers trace at the back down his spine and his waist. Jungwoo felt you slowly pull the boxers down and see how he sprung up the manhood making you drool at the sight.

It was a very pretty sight you’d have to say. It was everything you imagined but better. You hate to admit it but your lustful thoughts of him before were nothing comparing to this. This real deal was better than you thought. Jungwoo saw how you stroke his length with your cold hands and he squeezed your hips in response.

‘He was so sensitive.’ You were amazed by how fast he was moving along seeing you stroke him down and up in soft motions. And he lets out the softest moans ever you couldn’t believe it. He was getting the best treatment for you it’s only been fair if he lets you get the best end of the stick right?

“Enough… Y/n… I want to finish inside you.” He pleads.

He pulled on your ankles pushing you down into the backseats belonging to the car and suddenly switched the demure. You were surprised by how fast he could change from a loving man to a domineering and intimidating person who was losing control and barely hanging by a string. As you were pushed down he heard you gasp pulling apart your panties with his finger and fondling your breasts by the other hand. You moaned when one of his fingers pushed the way in you.

He saw your eyebrows raise up like they were clouds in the sky. You bite your bottom lip as Jungwoo watched you intensely seeing you moan everytime another finger dropped in you. You were soaking as if you were in the rain but you really were not. He was at awe how fast you got wet.

It felt like a giant ego boost knowing it’s all for him and only him.

You’re loosening up enough to take him is where Jungwoo stops and slings the tip to your entrance aligning it for you. You pull yourself up a little putting your arms round his neck and he hugs you tight smelling your perfume and scent sank in your loving sweet soft skin. It was begging to be marked by him.

You hum when the tip enters you and you felt your weight slowly deepening on the back. You really hope no one saw you with Jungwoo like this but at the same time…

You sort of wish that girl who likes Jungwoo sees you and him together.

It sounds cruel but you wanted to make it clear he was yours. He was never going to be hers. Jungwoo knew you would never see the end of him and at least now he made it clear the only he has was on you and only you.

Then a fiery kiss reunites you and Jungwoo as he was thrusting into you so deep you felt like you were squished between two boulders falling down from a long cliff onto you. You were addicted to this painful feel you never felt this high before and perhaps it must be the full moon side effects making everything for the both of you ten times more powerful. You never had sex at this moon cycle before and not even with a werewolf because you were waiting for Jungwoo all this time.

However it looks like everytime he was indulging into you Jungwoo was losing his mind. The body lost control and snaps into you enough to shake the car with the force. You were making all sorts of noises. Moaning into his ear. You were cutting out sentences that did not make sense but he knew, he knew it felt too good you couldn’t talk enough.

The only sound there was between you was the squelching sound that came from down below your wet cunt, dripping on the seat so much because you were coming repeatedly on his girth-like cock that stretched you to the oblivion.

It was so intense that Jungwoo had the urge to just bite down on your shoulder and claim you to be his. And you wanted that. You knew what he was thinking and you could only edge him on with words.

You whimper. “Jungwoo… Jungwoo mark me.”

At first he looks into your eyes but the way his hips and waist were grinding into you did not stop. He looks back at your shoulder smirking. “You really want to be marked this badly?”

He was taunting you with a teasing joke and you lay back huffing. “Please… claim me. Make me yours.” You ache at what you really want and Jungwoo smiles lingering down capturing a soft bite into your shoulder but even though it was such a soft bite,

It really made the painful experience more worth it. Somehow the pain become pleasure and the pleasure become your high you were chasing. Jungwoo pulls away to admire that mark on your body and you pull him into another kiss. You pull away whispering. “Now fill me up until you can’t anymore.”

He stares down at your intense gaze. “I was planning to do that anyways.” He croaks out.

You’re both always on the same page thinking the same things and doing the same actions. You understood each other beyond anyone else could’ve. If you had to say, you probably thought you’re soulmates. You just get each other without a single strand needing to stand up.

Your bodies were going into a heating overdrive when finally he released and dumps the gigantic load inside your walls painting them nothing but white. You couldn’t see for a moment getting a wince of dizziness and pleasure hit the oxygen in your brain. Jungwoo felt the same way as he drops his head on your shoulder where he marked you as his.

You both let out a sigh in unison catching your breathes. Your hands loosen round him and he slowly does the same. The car was steamed thanks to your long hour sessions of railing each others shit. You couldn’t help but notice Mark suddenly walking past the car half embarrassed.

You grew red to your face. “Oh god he saw us definitely.” You saw how happy Jungwoo was to hear that. He felt so proud of himself, like a little boy in a candy store.

He laughs a little. “Good. I’m glad he saw.” You look over at him slapping his biceps. “Jungwoo!”

You were beyond embarrassed now. You’re thinking this might be karma for you thinking you wished the girl to see instead of Mark and that was a way for life teaching you to calm your intrusive thoughts.

Jungwoo grabbed you from behind kissing your lips when you were shocked and embarrassed. He however couldn’t care less. Mark should see who you belong to.

And it’s him.

You saw Jungwoo pull away as he calms you with a kiss. He saw you stay quiet but only stare at him with a smile.

‘You were happy.’ Jungwoo thought, he was relieved to see you being your usual happy self too.

“Hey Y/n?”

Jungwoo calls out as you were both changing in the car back into your clothes so you guys can finally leave the campus parking lot. You really weren’t even aware of the time but it’s beyond the afternoon and it’s probably the evening. You seriously couldn’t get away without touching each other still. Jungwoo occasionally wraps his arms round your waist as you were changing or you would capture a kiss on his cheek when he was putting on the trousers again. It’s impossible to not touch someone as beautiful as you.

You look up at him. Jungwoo was in the driving seat and you were in the passenger now. “Hm?”

He heard you look at him and Jungwoo smiles down at your lips once again. You felt him lean in and slowly kiss you.

“Can we go back please?”

You were at a loss of words as he said this. Jungwoo was so innocent looking but the way his body, mind and probably spirit too we’re not enough has you in this physical chokehold.

But you were the same because you loved it. Smirking you look up at him. “Round 2?”

You’re more definitely coming back late to celebrate the full moon at his house.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.