#finally managed to write something for them that i don't hate!

[soupandsorcery]

Continued from this

They only have a moment.

Illario is waiting outside, practically vibrating his impatience, and Sole can smell the trouble on that one already. Just a hunch, but Illario doesn't seem the type to take being kept out of the loop with grace. Harding went with him, with a furrowed brow look over her shoulder as she withdrew, so there will be some explaining to do, once they're alone.

But all of that is outside, and in here, there is just Sole and Viago. Funny, how often it comes down to that. The two of them against the world.

Sole's missed it. In the privacy of their own head, they can admit that being sent away cut like a blade and burned bitter like poison in their veins, and there's a twisted sort of satisfaction to know, just from a glance, that it cut Viago the same to do it.

It feels like they're both holding their breaths, waiting for the other one to move first, to speak first, to reestablish the careful balance of all they are to each other.

Sole isn't feeling particularly charitable, so they just wait, face impassive, as the seconds tick away.

Viago breaks first, and that's a point to Sole.

He crosses the room in three quick strides and has gloved fingers under Sole's chin in the space of a heartbeat. He nudges upwards, and Sole lifts with the motion, letting Viago see whatever it is he wants to see.

"What happened here?" Viago asks. The words are surprisingly soft in his mouth, and he raises his other hand to trace the scar that slices its way down Sole's face.

"Bar fight," Sole replies, leaning into the touch. "Someone hit me in the face with a bottle." It's a lie, and he wonders if Viago will be able to sniff it out. The truth is a much longer story than they have time for right now.

Viago's eyes narrow, silently calling Sole's bullshit, but he lets it go. He curls fingers into Sole's mess of curls and uses the grip to pull them in close enough to fit their mouths together.

Relief.

Cool and instantaneous. This, at least, hasn't changed. Viago's mouth is still warm and unyielding, and he still kisses like a demand, urging Sole to part their lips and let Viago taste the truth from the source. Sole surrenders to it because they want to. Because a year and more has passed since the last time they were close like this, and a part of Sole is always ravenous for Viago. Time apart has only honed that hunger to a full fledged need.

When Viago pulls away, Sole makes a soft sound of protest, chasing him for another kiss. And then one more. For kicks.

"Enough," Viago says, and it's gratifying that he at least sounds a bit unsteady. "You have work to do."

"I think that's about to become the story of my life," Sole sighs.

"You will do it, and you will do it well. Don't forget who you represent out there."

Sole grins and fingers the spot on their hip where they have been branded a de Riva and Viago's own. "You know I never could."

Viago eyes the spot, and Sole sees some of their own hunger reflected back at them. "Go," he says. "Bring back Lucanis if there is anything left to retrieve."

"And when I'm done with that?"

Their gazes catch. Hold. Burn.

"Come back to me," Viago replies, like it's the simplest thing.

Sole supposes that it always has been.

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[not-neverland06]

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 

It feels so wrong. 

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

[nemesyaaa]

get in, loser || simp!classmate!rafe x mean!popular!reader

summary : admiration ? too light. obssession ? not enough. devotion ? perfect treatment.

warnings : +18 content. minors dni. smut. oral. sub!rafe (boy toy). act of devotion. public masturbation. p in v. verbal humiliation. lollipop. facesitting. mean girls. a lot of teasing. fingers sucking. a bit of cum eating. be aware of the warnings before reading. very pink content, i'm sorry.

author's note : i just wanted to write another thing about them...this is highly depraved.

you never had a boyfriend and you’ve never wanted one because you didn’t know how it would serve you. you already had everything, you didn't need a man by your side to be the center of attention. you were the perfect replica of the mean girls from the cult films of the 2000s. you could just as easily be a Regina George or a Jennifer Check. the world revolved around you, which meant that without you, everything fell apart.

and above all you didn't need a boyfriend because you had a boy toy now. rafe cameron. he was so obedient and docile, well he was especially so because you were a good mistress.

he didn't listen to you because he was afraid of you, but because he would do anything for you. he lived by your rules and your principles.

and today you wanted to have fun. it was the last day of school before the weekend and you were wearing one of his favorite t-shirts, a white tank that allowed him to see the size of your boobs and your perked nipples through the clothing. but above all, you didn't wear a bra so they swayed in slow motion with each of your steps. the way they were slowly bouncing simultaneously pressed together in the fabric while you walked towards him, phone in hand.

you wore a plump gloss which gave volume to your lips, but above all which made your mouth so luscious and shiny.

when you sat next to him, he shifted slightly but mostly stared at you because it wasn't usual. you were always near your girlfriends, you always took care to ignore him in class and even in public. you loved playing with his feelings. as a bitch, you were good at this.

you loved laughing with your girlfriends watching him while knowing he would feel miserable and pathetic because he would never know if it was him you were talking about. you loved getting him hard before going to class just to see him squirm in his chair, and be unable to form two sentences in front of the teacher without stammering. but above all, you loved being cruel, pretending through messages that you were going to touch him, suck him, drive him crazy to finally change your mind in front of him. “oh really? when did i say that? you know, i'm very confused. "

"o-on...by message..."

"are you saying i'm a liar, cameron?" you approached him threateningly, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout upset, forcing him to step back because your heels kicked on the ground was quietly intimidating. “oh you're gonna cry, stupid ? "

he softened himself, thinking that you will be kind to him. his shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard. you slid your mouth next to his ear. “you should, loser. ”

his eyes were in tears as you were playing your favorite game — bully him. sometimes you could be such a whore. but you were also terribly hot and he hated as much as he loved the effect you had on him.

you bust out laughing, before running a hand through his hair to gently pat his head. “I was kidding. don't be mad at me...or let me do something for you..." you pushed his hand into your panties. “do your job. and you better do it well. ”

he shaked his head vividly, as you could feel his fingers making their way to your pussy. he loved being inside you so much, even if it was just his hand. but sometimes you managed to make him so sick because you purposely didn't whine just to make him frustrated. you watched him exhaust himself with a puppy glaze, his completely soaked fingers thrusting in and out, fucking you deep, pooling your own wetness out of your cunt while fingering you. “h-he…lp…” he pleaded, his own saliva running down his chin.

and you stood there with your lips sealed while he moaned against the side of your face because it felt so good. but it was also hard for you to contain all the spasms and pleasure that was coursing through your body. you were forced to control yourself, to not show anything while his fingertips moved back and forth inside your walls, slamming down your canal. his cock was so hard in his pants. it was terribly painful at this point. and you didn't care. all that frustration you inflicted on him, he took it out on the sex doll in his room. all the cum you didn't let him implode was going to be released in this girl's pussy.

today, you sat next to him, placing your bag noisily on his table.

“I thought you didn’t want us to be seen together. " he commented.

" oh don't worry. I told my friends I was doing charity today. " you replied.

class had started and you had a lollipop in your mouth for a few minutes. and you knew very well that Rafe was unable to concentrate on what the teacher was saying when you were sucking that shit so close to him, with your sticky tongue latched on over the candy. you were making discreet but obscene noises. it was a classic cherry lollipop.

his cheeks had heated. you twisted your tongue around the candy, playing with it a little.

your muscle curled around the lollipop like you did so well around his cock, a few dripping licks had been liberally placed while you pretended to concentrate on the lesson.

“get your dick out.“ you ordered. “i want to have fun.”

you didn't need to say it twice before his cock was released, springing free against his thighs. you don't know why you were always so amazed at his size. However, you had already seen it several times. but damn, that was the only thing he could dethrone you on. his heavy cock hung in the air, precum beading at the red tip.

he wore the cock ring that you ordered him to wear. “you're gonna be even bigger, loser. “you encouraged him.

you pushed the lollipop out of your lips to bring it to the glistening tip of his dick. you used the side of the candy to feel the precum wetting the sugar with amusement. you let the substance soak into the candy before letting it run down his erect shaft. you aimed the sweet treat at his penis, tracing the hard veins that ran along his member, while teasing him softly with the edible part of the stick.

you stroked his cock with the lollipop, teasing his entire length. you drove the candy over his hardened cock, watching the blood pressure enlarge his thick veins. the lollipop was so small next to it. when the candy had been completely wet and dripping, between a mixture of cum, sugar and saliva, you had slipped it between Rafe's lips. you pushed it against his tongue, forcing him to gasp over it, before applying pressure to his cheeks with your fingers to watch him swallow.

but you weren't finished, you wanted more. you spat discreetly into your hand before wetting his entire cock. you wanted to please him a little so you gave him this handjob he dreamed of in class. you fisted him up and down, feeling him grow in your grip, while you worked all dick. his balls were hard and heavy, perfectly caged between his legs.

he was trying so badly to hide his urge to moan, his lips were twisted and tense, his teeth buried inside his bottom one. he squirmed in his chair, his tummy twitching hard from the pleasure. you were so good with your hand. while you stroked him, you loved to tighten your fingers around him. it was at this moment that his gasps were more intense and that you started to pump him faster. the speed of your movements let him so weak, as cries rolling down his cheeks.

he was so pretty when he was about to explode. “ is your dick hard for me, or because you're enjoying being a pussy ? ” you murmured right in his ear.

strangely, you let him take your virginity on the same day. after you invited him to your house. and then there was no one at home, no evidence, no traces. no one would know.

“get on the bed. ” you commanded. “ you've got such a pretty face, will you let me sit on it ? i know you will because you will do anything to please me. ”

he obeyed in a second and you undressed. you had taken off all of your clothes before sitting on his face. you had always dreamed of doing this and this was the perfect opportunity.

“now, it's your choice. you can be a good boy that makes me cum with his tongue...or just a good dog that only knows how to lick. show me how you want to be treated. ”

" y-yes...yes..i just want to make you feel good." he just pleaded, before being silenced by the contact of your pussy on his lips.

you were heavy. but in such a good way, he was so turned on by the way you were sitting on him, pressuring the weight of your body on his mouth, making yourself a seat on his face while he was already lapping at your soaked folds, tearing your lips apart with his tongue and starting to licks at your parts. your taste was so sweet, filled with the froth of his saliva. you began to rub yourself, pushing your cunt deeper inside his mouth to muffle his pathetic wimps. his voice was so needy.

as you were fucking his whole face, your asscheeks was brushing his nose, making him even more horny. his dick was thick, literally twitching over his flat tummy. the hard lines of his muscles were swollen.

you couldn't help but moan, but you wouldn't dare saying his name. he was lapping with such devotion, feeding your greedy cunt with needy and fat laps. his tongue was inside you, ruining your walls with appetite. he was drooling at the corner of his mouth, and on the underside of your butt.

it was as if his tongue only belonged inside you. you tried to stay in control even though you couldn't deny the pleasure that consumed you. “It feels so good..." you had escaped, holding your breasts in the palm of your hands.

you gripped the sheets when he started to get wilder in the thrusts of his tongue. your body moved in sync. as he was below you, you took the opportunity to move your ass above him, lightly slapping his face with the jiggles of your cheeks. oh god, he was so pathetic, completely hard being crushed under your weight, having his face below your soaked pussy, being covered in your wetness and drool, having his cock painfully hard and leaking, because his mouth was fucked. you could feel his heavy breath coating the heat of your core.

he had cum all over his own stomach, and you rolled your eyes. it wasn't the first time he came without warning, it was so compulsive for him. he couldn't control it.

you lay down next to him before collecting the cum on his tummy, teasing the sticky white steam with your fingers before plunging them inside your pussy. you filled yourself with his releasing, your two eyes on him, white loads leaking at your entrance. “ are you gonna Fuck me or do I need to make all the job by myself ? ”

“ i-i…”

“ such a pathetic boy, can't even speak properly with his mouth. ”

you spread your legs, and he came closer. he was so needy that he was nervous. his hands were shaking, barely able to hold his throbbing cock. you had to wait a few minutes before he slipped inside you. he whimpered all his way to your walls at the comfort of your pussy around him.

because he couldn't wait any longer, he conducted several forceful thrusts into the deep of your core. he could see his own cum floating with your wetness at the outline of your swollen cunt. his cries was loud as he pounded into you deeper, making sure he strikes your spot everytime. he was sweating, a drop of sweats watering from his torso. your legs was locked againt his arms as he was fucking you like he ever dreamed of.

his breathing was running shorter and shorter as the heat was stronger. he sunk every inch of his dick in your hole.

he never fucked a girl and he didn't know if he was doing good but his head was empty. all his neurons were dead and it was all about sex and pleasure. and you were nothing better, all dumb by his fat cock, his merciless length feeding your insides. his face was hidden in your neck, his lips salivating on your flesh. " i-i-m...cu..a-aah..plea.se…"

it wasn't already more than ten minutes but he couldn't help. he could cum literally every five minutes inside you, because of his urges, because of the way you make him feel. you were stuffed hard, all his shaft buried in your canal. every hard back and forth left his dick all red and sticky while he was leaving beads of cum on your slit. “ that's a good boy. ” you praised, biting your lower lips. “ but now, are you gonna make me cum ? ”

you wrapped a hand around his throat while he was on top of you. you let him fuck you and abuse your cervix. when he felt your fingers around his neck, it completely turned him on. and all his thrusts had become even more intense as he was increasing the pace. your stomach was spiraling, and his eyes were glued to that.

“h-harder..please..." he was begging at you from more pressure.

"such a freak..." you replied, before wrapping his neck tighter.

your grip was now tight around his throat, his eyes rolled back as he was still fucking you raw, all your pussy milking him. you were draining him. the blue of his gaze was perfect, shiny in the light of the room because of tears. he exploded again and again until his dick start to play difficult to fuck you another round.

he was so handsome.

it wasn't your habit but you kept him in your arms. you felt the need to be nice to him after all his efforts. he was still sweltering and sweating, his body decorated with cute red marks, and you couldn't help but smile.

“hey, you did so good for me. i'm proud, very proud. ” you gently said.

your compliments had given him chills. and his tears had again welled up in his eyes.

“please, cameron.stop being a crybaby. ” you sighed with an annoying tone. “god instead of cries, i should hear how grateful you are to let you fuck me. ”

“thanks...y-you...”

“if your friends saw you like that..." you scoffed. "and if they saw you like that..." you whispered against his ear. "I can already hear the gossip...oh and your father, what would he think of you?"

you felt him shiver under your touch. “that's why you need to be kind with me, rafe. but you're a good boy, aren't you? say it, say it to me. "

“I'm...your good boy. ” he cried out with a gasp, shaking tears on his cheeks.

“ look at yourself, not only are you a good boy, rafe cameron but you're also such a pathetic thing. this is why i need to make you mine. all mine.”

you stood up to take a red marker and marked on his back with permanent ink. “ y/n’s private property. "

“now, i wish you luck in hiding that you belong to me. “

he grimaced. “ do you understand what it means ? you have my name on your fucking back. and you will have such a hard time removing it. you wanted to be obsessed with me ? fine, because now i leave you no choice than being devoted to me. you wake up, it's me. every time you jerk off, it's me. everything you think, it's me. everytime you breathe, it's me. i want everyone on that fucking island to know which pussy make you so dumb and pathetic. is it clear ? ” your hands were gripping around his throat as you spoke.

he nodded his head like a good sub.

“ words. ”

“ yes…i just…i just want you. ” he sobbed, your hands around his neck making it difficult for him to answer properly.

“ so what are you thinking right now ?”

“ you. ” he replied with such a pretty feverish tone.

“ good answer, little boy. ” you praised, while giving him a little pat on the cheeks. “ now, who do you like ? ”

“ you. it's you. ” he repeated.

“ do you want me ? ”

“ i want you. ” he confessed, moving into the space of your spreaded legs. his head was now on your lap, while you stroked his hair gently. “ i need you…” he continued.

“ of course, you need me. i'm the only one to care about you. ” when you rubbed his bottom lip, feeling the sweet wetness of his drool against your thumb, he let out a soft moan before opening his mouth, allowing you to brush fingers in his tongue.

his gaze was precious, a bit teary as his whole mouth was starting to suck your fingertips. his lips were moving faster around your fingers, taking them to the back of his warm tongue. you loved to watch your digits disappear on the side of his muscle, the sucking sounds filling the room as you could feel him grow again in his pants. he was whining at the feeling of pleasure, keeping your fingers in his mouth.

“ mmh…stay like that. i want to take some pictures…” you said in your casual mean girl tone. “ you know, baby…for sleepovers with my girlfriends , we really need something to make fun of and nothing makes us laugh more than pathetic men. ”

your gaze went down his thighs. “ oh god, i'm gonna take such beautiful pictures…please, continue to make your dick leak. soak yourself, show them how pretty you are. i want them to be jealous of what we have. ”

[nymphaea-blue]

Period care with Love and Deepspace boys

Info : 2k+ word count, fluff, mentions of sickness (throwing up), talks about periods (obviously), mentions of doctors, our boys being really supportive <3

Note : Oh to have Rafayel warm my tummy and Sylus cook me a meal during my period 😔 Also my reqs are open! I won't always be able to write, but I will do my best on weekends<3

Rafayel

﹒　⁺ Is inexperienced about the matter because of his lemurian origin, but after a bit of googling he got the gist of how to help you. He wanted to help you and make you feel better so he tried his best.

﹒　⁺ He would try not to tease you as much and he would be patient about your mood swings. In a way, he finally realised how you felt about his dramatic antics because you sure were hard to please while you were on your period.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel would have lots of sweets and supplies stacked after you started dating and visiting him more often. He wouldn't be bothered if you wanted to stick with him during the week, in fact he encourages it, especially if you deal with painful cramps, though he would panic a bit each time you expressed any pain.

“Heyy, sweetheart?” No response. Okay then, he would try again, he nudged gently what he assumed to be you all cocooned under his blankets. “Cutie? My love? My lovely bride?” Eventually, you finally lifted the blanket enough to the point he was able to see your eyes. “How are you feeling? I got you some sweets and the medicine you asked for.” He, ever so carefully, set down the tray of food at the table as he sat down next to you on the bed. “Thank you… I feel horrible, to be honest.” You sighed as you managed to untangle yourself from your perfectly made comfort space to sit down and take a bite of the sweets he got you. They were your favourites, everything from treats with chocolate to your weird cravings, but he didn't question it and got them for you. What a lovely boyfriend you had. “No need to thank me, I'm doing the bare minimum. Take your medicine and when you feel better, we can cuddle, how about that?” He offered you a cup of tea as well, to help you take down the medicine and help with cramps. “That sounds amazing, actually.” You agreed to his suggestion and took the medication, even though they were bitter and you hated the taste, you managed to swallow them. He gently praised you and helped you to lay down after you took them. He got behind you, with your head laying nicely on his chest and almost on his shoulder, so he could sneak a few kisses to your neck. After a few minutes he placed his hands on your lower tummy, right where it hurt, and you started to feel a pleasant, warm sensation. “Ooh that feels nice… Like my water bottle, but better and more cuddly.” He chuckled softly as you called him cuddly, he did his best to control his EVOL so it would help you, since he often saw you use something warm on your tummy but sometimes he could see you couldn't really get into a comfortable position, so he thought he would do the job much better on his own. “I'm glad I got hired as your new water bottle. I hope my hands aren't too hot, right? If it starts to burn, let me know, I don't want to hurt you.”  “Now, cutie, just try to rest, alright? Or if you want, we can watch something together, hm? I'm free all day anyways.” “Don't you have an exhibition later today..?” “...” “Eh, Thomas can figure it out.”

Zayne

﹒　⁺ He knows a lot about it, he's a doctor so he had to study about the women's body but especially after the two of you got together he decided to dive deeper into the topic. 

﹒　⁺ Zayne way of helping would include tea, healthy meals and tummy massages, as well as prescribing you medicine or giving you a sick note for work when needed. He was a little worried, even though he was a doctor and he knew it was normal, he still didn't like seeing you in pain.

﹒　⁺ His house would have all the supplies, food as well as spare clothes for you since he much prefers you to spend your period at his house, that way he can ensure you will be in good condition. Zayne doesn't mind putting up with your moods or potential stains, he just wants to see you comfortable again.

“Hello, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Zayne asked as he saw you laying down on his couch after he came back from work. Unsurprisingly, you were in the same position as when he left you when he went to work, so you slept through most of the day probably, which was good. “I'm doing okay, better thanks to the medicine you gave me. I'm all sleepy though…” You yawned after you gave him a kiss on the cheek when he came closer. The entire day you just wanted to sleep, eat, cry and then sleep again. “That's a possible side effect, but it might also be a way for your body to rest after what happened. I'm glad to see you better, you didn't look your best in the morning.” “You can just say that I looked horrible, Zayne , I felt that way too.”  “... I wanted to be more polite. Although, this wasn't the first time that happened, yes? I have a colleague at work, she's a gynecologist, a good one at that. I can get you in contact with her and make an appointment if you wish, you should get your condition checked out, being in so much pain isn't normal.” He proposed as he started to brew some tea, both for you and himself. “Maybe you are right, I suppose it would be better than having to ask you for prescriptions each month.” You sighed, agreeing with him. As much as you dreaded a doctor visit, it was needed at that point. “I don't mind doing that, by the way. Your health is the most important for me.”

Xavier

﹒　⁺ Slightly confused but knows what to do. He does read lots of articles about how to take care of you online after the two of you start dating, but he had a general knowledge before that.

﹒　⁺ Xavier would take naps with you often, in fact, he would force you to nap with him. You can't be moody or in much pain when you are asleep, right? So he just gets you into his grasp, all nice and warm, and he cuddles you to sleep.

﹒　⁺ His apartment didn't have supplies at first as he didn't know which ones you use, but after you ended up staying over when your cramps got particularly bad, he did get you everything you needed to make sure you would be comfortable. After that, his bathroom is stocked monthly, as well as the sweets drawer (both in his and your apartment).

“... Xavier?” You attempted to get out of his grasp, but he just pulled you closer against him. A few hours ago you were supposed to do some reports for work, you might be on your period but wanderers don't stop after all, so you wanted to go to work tomorrow, but a certain someone pulled you to sleep before you could even touch the papers. “Yeah? What's wrong?” He yawned as he snuggled his head into the crook of your neck. “I need to get up.” “Are you hurting?” “No.” “Do you need to use the bathroom? Are you hungry?” “Well, no.” “Then you don't need to get up. Let's rest some more.” Xavier pulled you closer at that, your back against his chest. “Xavier I need to do reports for tomorrow!” You struggled against him again, you wanted to pry his hands off of you but to no avail, all you did was irritate your stomach more. “No you don't, I called in sick for you, capitan Jenna already agreed that we both have the rest of the week off. Now, relax a little, unless you want to hurt yourself more.” Xavier responded in a matter-of-fact tone, as his arms gently eased around you so as to not hurt you when he heard you whimper. “... I don't know if I should be mad or happy about what you did.” “You should give me a kiss and go back to sleep.” “But it's 3pm?-” “So? Still early. We can take one more little nap before I get lunch.”

Sylus

﹒　⁺ He had a decent amount of knowledge and it stayed that way. He knew how to take care of you and he felt confident in his abilities to care for you during your period, but he can be too overbearing sometimes.

﹒　⁺ He would care for you by getting you food, lots of it. Sweets, drinks, full meals made by a chef, whatever you want. You also have Luke and Kieran at your beck and call if they aren't with him on business, and Mephisto always stays with you so Sylus can keep an eye on you.

﹒　⁺ The mansion would always be fully stocked ever since you came into his life, he found out your favourite brand to use and he got you that, you never have to ask since he checks what's left regularly. He has sweets very often somewhere on his desk for you too.

A loud ringing was heard through your apartment for what you guessed was the fifth time today in a row. Annoyed, you decided to get up and finally open, even though your stomach felt like it was cut in half. “Why good morning, kitten. You had a nice nap?” Sylus greeted you with that familiar smirk of his, though at this moment you found it a bit comforting. “Sylus ..? What are you doing here?” You asked, surprised to see him lean against the doorway to your small apartment. You didn't have much time to ponder as he gently guided you inside and closed the doors behind himself. “Mephisto reported that you didn't leave your bed in over 5 hours, so I thought to check on you. I must say, your abilities to ignore phone calls and door ringing are very admirable.” He walked into your kitchen and put down a bag on the table, before he started to boil some water in a kettle. “Sorry, I just didn't feel like existing today..” You sighed as you sat down on the couch, or well, attempted to before your stomach started cramping again and you found yourself almost lying on the floor instead because of the pain.  Sylus was by your side in a second and he gently put a pillow under your head as well as a blanket over you, he got you a bowl besides the couch too, just in case, since you looked extremely pale. “Don't worry about that sweetie. I'm here now, so I will help you get back to life. We are going to my base later, but for now I got you some food and medicine. That doctor friend of yours proved to be very cooperative, so hopefully you should get better after taking the pills he prescribed.” “You talked with Zayne..? For me?” “Of course, that man is a doctor and I don't know that much about medicine, unless we are talking about sedatives. I told him that I needed something for you and he did recommend a few things, if it doesn't work then I will need to have a… nice chat with him.” “Now, you just lie back and relax. I got you some tea and sweets, but first you need a meal before I can give you them and the medicine, so take a small nap while I work on that, won't you?”

[district4loading]

Lazy Days

Twice Mina x Male Reader

4K Words

Content Warning: Smut, Fluff

Minors DNI

A/N: This is another request I received almost a month ago. I really hate that it took me so long to get to it especially because it isn't even that long. It's probably cause for the past few weeks I've been stressed and I've had bad headaches which really killed my motivation lol.

Anyways enough of my bitching, I really enjoyed writing this one cause Mina's been wrecking me lately so I hope you guys like it.

-

"You let me win, didn't you?"

-

"There's no way" You blink, your entire body running stiff as you watch the small pixelated character you created maybe four hours ago shrivel up and die in one of the worst ways imaginable. In the same instance you glance over to your girlfriend Mina, who's sitting right next to you on the couch. Although she doesn't look at you, you can see the smirk on her face and you begin to process that she just beat you. Again. "You've gotta be cheating!" You accuse, pressing the respawn button on your controller.

"No" She insists cutely with her whiny tone of voice "I'm just better than you" The simple shrug of her shoulders has you a bit salty. 

It's been like this all day. You both had today off, so really and truly there was no better way to spend it than to sit around all day playing video games. Truth be told, you were never a gamer before you met Mina. When she moved in with you, she brought her console too and you slowly went from watching her play occasionally to playing with her and even more than her sometimes.

"Yeah right, one more game" You run a hand through your messy hair.

Mina loves how stubborn you are, she sees it as one of your cutest traits. She just knows that although you say "one more game" you really mean "we'll play until I beat you" and it's even funnier that you refuse to admit that part.

Sure enough you end up playing four rounds instead of the 'one' you spoke of earlier "Don't you think we should be doing something else?" Mina mutters, reluctantly pressing the button for a rematch when you lose again. She glances at the time, noticing that you two have been at this all morning and it was just bleeding into the afternoon.

"Like what?" You bite your lip subconsciously, something you always did when you were trying to focus. 

"I dunno, you hungry? We could order something, watch tv, maybe go out later.." She suggests, but you barely hear any of it because not even a second after she finishes her sentence, you manage to finally beat her in the combat game. 

"Ha! See? You're not better than me, look I just beat you" You stand up and point to the tv. Mina only puts her controller to the side and she smiles at you calmly, nodding. It doesn't really matter to you in the moment that you've played maybe a total of sixteen matches, four of which you actually won. You silently appreciate her for not bringing up that part either. "Okay, what were you saying?" You turn off the console and plop back down on the couch.

"Maybe" She looks like she's actually thinking for a moment, then in the same instance she kind of stops and she gets this look on her face. An almost devilish smirk replaces her pondering pout and you're almost immediately intrigued about what's to come "I should give you a reward for winning"

She only has to scoot closer to you and lean her head in a few inches to catch your lips on hers. You kiss her back, hands on her waist so you can pull her to sit on your lap. "What kind of reward?" You decide to humor her cause why not and she can't hide her giggles when she presses on your shoulder to get you to lay back.

"Just lay down" Mina's voice is so wonderfully soft, almost healing to your ears when she says the three words. You first prop one of the throw pillows up against the armrest and you rest your head against it. Still in your lap, Mina leans down to put her lips back on yours and you can't get enough of them. So smooth and tender as you make out in your cozy living room.

When Mina pulls away, she shuffles backwards a bit and with the space she has, she lays flat on her belly between your legs. It's a big couch so she's able to fit there nice and comfy, arms resting on your thighs as she tugs on the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips to help her out.

 "You let me win, didn't you?" You figure

"Well, how else was I supposed to get your cock in my mouth?" She teases, pulling the garments off your legs. Your cock springs free from its confinements, semi-hard from the bit of kissing you did earlier. 

"You could've just a-asked—" Your tone of voice changes mid-way when Mina wraps her lips around your head, her moist inner cheeks wonderfully stimulating each nerve. 

She releases you with a subtle pop then she curls her fingers around your shaft, stroking up and down. "Where's the fun in that" The way she giggles feels a little more sinister and it genuinely sends a chill down your spine as you grow harder and harder in her hands. 

Mina leans over, sticking her tongue out to flick it against your tip "God" You bite your lip, forgetting to breathe while you make eye contact. It's like there's a greater force gluing your eyes to her making it impossible for you to look away. When she's got your cock at it's hardest—which doesn't take very long at all—she opens her mouth and takes you inside.

The descent is slow and easy for her for the first few inches. She starts to struggle the further she gets down and you're unable to focus on anything but the warmth of her mouth, the saliva coating your entire shaft and the tight squeeze her mouth gives your cock whenever she gags or swallows. It has your jaw clenching already. 

You grasp your t-shirt in your hands then you pull it over your head, stretching the cheap fabric a bit because you were rushing. "Mina" You sigh, as she gets her lips to touch your base. Tears welled up in her pretty eyes. They threaten to fall as she holds herself there and the absolute clutch of her throat is nearly perfect. 

First she has to remind herself to breathe through her nose before she comes up. Mina stops when she reaches the head then she plunges again, sliding your cock down the slot of her throat easier this time around. She manages to get herself in a rhythm, cheeks hollowed as she sucks you off, tongue dragging up and down the underside of your cock. "You're so good at that" You praise, lips parted as you take in the wonderful view.

Mina's so beautiful, you could spend hours just admiring her face, scanning each beauty mark and every subtle blemish on her porcelain skin. "So pretty" You whisper and she hums softly to let you know that she acknowledges your compliment. There's more you want to say but the words get caught up and stuck in your throat because she's got you speechless right now. As her eyes pierce through yours, you hope that she can understand at least a fragment of the love you feel for her in this moment. "I love you" You groan the confession like it's the first time you're saying it.

She comes back up, licking her lips as she wraps her hand around your base. She strokes you slowly and softly, that same shy giggle escaping her lips and you get high on it. "I love you more" Her tongue darts out to lick up the pre cum that's beginning to dribble down your shaft. Then she rubs the pad of her thumb in circles on your frenulum.

A moan escapes your lips and your body begins to squirm as she attacks the sensitive spot there. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from whimpering. She fists your cock again, then chases it with her mouth up and down with the twist of her wrists. 

You reach your hand out, running your fingers through her newly dyed ash hair and you brush it to the side when you notice that it was getting in the way. Her hand and her mouth moves together fast and you're not sure how much longer you'll be able to take it for. The way she can have your body almost trembling under her magical touch will always amaze you, no matter how many times she does this.

"M-Mina I'm close—fuck" You warn but she won't slow or stop. In fact, she's squeezing and sucking harder like she needs your load in her mouth as soon as possible. You know she'll swallow it all.

You end up biting into your fist, eyes squinting as your brows knit together right up until you cum. "Shit, I'm gonna.." Your cock pulses out the first few shots which hit the roof of Mina's mouth. She isn't at all phased by it though, in fact, she keeps her movements steady as she milks you for everything you've got, moaning eagerly at the taste. You finish it all off with a sigh and then she finally stops, taking you out of her mouth carefully so nothing spills out. 

Mina opens her mouth, proudly showing you the flood of semen thats pooled up inside where it belongs. Then she closes her lips together and she stops for a moment before she gulps it down. "You're amazing" You pant, watching weakly as she climbs up your body so you're face to face. She smiles before connecting your lips and your hands go to the hem of her top almost immediately and you slip them under just to feel her soft, bare skin on your hands.

She breaks the kiss, then she pulls her top off and her petite breasts are finally free "These too" You pull at the clingy fabric of her leggings, hearing the light noise it makes when it snaps back. 

"You ready for me already babe?" 

"You know I am" a smile grows on her face as she stands up from the couch to shimmy herself out of them, her hips swaying side to side with a naughty purpose. Finally, she steps out of them and kicks them to the side "Wait, leave them on" she stops just as she's about to take her panties off. She's wearing this black lacy underwear that clings to her ass so beautifully, it'd be a crime to remove them when they look so good on her.

Mina only shakes her head, a chuckle escaping her lips as she straddles you again "You're such a weirdo" She mutters, not giving you the chance to respond because she's making out with you again. This kiss lasts a little bit longer because you want to take your time with her perfect lips, sucking and licking on them as it gets sloppier. She begins moaning into your mouth because of the pressure your hard cock provides while it's pushed up against her cunt. "Fuck" She curses, lightly biting your lip as she grinds her hips forwards.

She reaches down, kissing you harder this time as she slides her dampened panties to the side because she doesn't want to spend another second empty. Mina has to hover a bit as she grabs your cock to aim the head with her slick entrance but she's so soaked that it ends up slipping past. You try not to, but you end up snickering and she glares at you before trying again. This time she gets it in, you know that much from the first feel of her tight cunt gripping the head. 

You both exhale deeply as Mina sinks herself down slowly, taking this opportunity to enjoy the stretch of your thick cock. When she's got you stuffed as deep as the position would allow, Mina picks up her hips and begins to rock forwards in slow motions. "So deep in me, it feels so good ah~"

The way Mina moves her body so smooth and fluid has you falling in love with her all over again. You let a harsh slap land on her round ass, hearing the sound of the sharp impact echo loudly in your living room. She yelps loudly, leaning over to hold herself up on your shoulders so she can move faster. Her warm walls hug you tightly, occasionally clenching when she closes the gap between you two. Your cock fits so perfectly inside of her, it's like you were made for each other.

"Mina" You moan once she begins to move her hips in a circular motion. It feels so insane that now you're gripping her ass tightly, probably leaving red hand marks on her pale skin. 

"Like that?" Mina smirks, looking deep into your hooded eyes moaning when your cock brushes past her g-spot. She puts her hands over yours, then guides them both up to her perky tits. You feel her stiff nipples poking your palms as you take the initiative to squeeze and knead the soft flesh thoroughly. "God your cock—it's so" She moans again, throwing her head back so her hair flys out of her face.

This is the perfect visual. Mina's god-like body on top of yours, every dangerous and deadly curve of hers highlighted with the sheet of sweat on her skin. Her eyes closed and her mouth wide open as she moans about how good your dick is, how she can ride it all day long and how it's tearing her apart among another mess of words you can't really make out. You listen good and well to everything she's saying because she absolutely means it, you can tell that much from the utter lust in her tone.

Mina lets herself loose on you like she's been thinking about it all day, thinking about how you'll fill and fuck her with your large cock. You're only able to watch as the subtle indicators begin to show themselves. Like when her moans go up an octave or when her movements become less calculated and more messy and feral. You also notice the way she leans down, capturing your lips once more and you can tell it's a silent plea for you to do something.

So that's exactly what you do. You hold her in place by her hips and you begin to piston your cock into her, your thighs meeting hers to make this thick meaty slapping noise. She nearly screams, unable to focus on kissing you when you're fucking her like this. "Yes! Fuck- Harder!" So much raw force, it's almost punishing. However, your purpose wasn't to "punish" her, it was more so to reward her for everything she did beforehand. 

She understands that.

When Mina buries her head into your neck, you're a hundred percent sure that you've got her right there. She breathes heavily into your skin, moaning and choking on her words with each deep thrust you give her. She hums loud and long "I'm cumming!" and then you begin to feel how tightly her cunt clenches and pulses around your cock as her wetness spills down your shaft. "Fuck- Yes baby!" She begins to shake, her body jerking and bucking in your grip.

With a long sigh, she stops calms down a bit, the aftershocks still causing her body to react occasionally. You give her maybe a second to recover before you slip your cock out of her and flip her so she's on her back. She's so out of it, she doesn't even realize that you've switched positions until you slide your cock back inside of her where it belongs. Mina gasps, feeling your cock reach different parts of her at this angle.

"I can't fucking-" What she's trying to say is that she can't believe that you're fucking her so good. Hard and deep. That's exactly how she likes it as you recall, and you've hardly even given her a moment to recover from the orgasm you just fucked her through. "Cum in me" she looks deep into your eyes when she says it and she's so serious about it.

You lean down, your temple to hers as you nearly fuck her through the couch. You're a little rough on her, you know that because you can hear the springs in the furniture starting to give. It's not really built for this kind of treatment but it's durable and it's been through worse than this.

The more your cock slides in and out of her, dragging all the way back to the tip only to bury itself into her again, the more animalistic you feel. It's the tight grip, her velvety walls and her hoarse voice moaning your name that's got you like this. You want nothing more than to empty your balls inside of Mina, fill her up and keep it lodged so deep that none of it spills out.

You barely even notice when you push her into another orgasm because you're too focused on that distinct feeling growing and burning like a hot ball of fire in the pit of your stomach. "Oh... I'm gonna cum" You grit through your teeth, voice rough just before you nearly growl as you cum again, shooting countless ropes of warm white into her stretched cunt. She gasps, legs shaking as you continue to pound deep and slow into her, making sure you get everything out.

"Yeah, give me everything baby" She coos, fingers interlocking at the back of your neck. 

With a sigh your body finally relaxes and you put all of your weight on her body. When you're finally ready to talk after the long moment of silence you spend in your post-orgasm daze you lift your head and look into Mina's eyes. You know she's expecting your usual "I love you" after sex but instead you decide to mess with her a bit "So... pizza?"

She blinks "What?"

"Earlier you mentioned that we could order something and watch TV, right? I was just suggesting that we get pizza" She gives you an expecting look, like she's not going to give you a straight answer until you tell her what she really wants to hear "and I love you" You add on, leaning down to connect your lips with a grin on your face.

She can't help it when she smiles "Okay pizza then" she agrees.

-

You begin to think that maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to order pizza right before getting in the shower because you're both just stepping out when you hear the doorbell ring. Mina wraps her towel around her body "Well you're gonna have to get it cause I'm naked" She nods to herself as if there wasn't a towel wrapped around your waist also.

"So am I?" You try to argue as she walks into your bedroom. Her calm silence says enough and you figure you should just get the food cause you definitely won't win that fight. When you open the door, the delivery guy looks at you a little weird but you still tip him generously and mutter a small "thank you" at the end of the exchange.

When you get back in your shared apartment, you place the pizza on the coffee table and you turn off the lights before you join her in the bedroom to get into something comfy. 

"I can't believe you're making me watch this" Mina snuggles herself against you, squinting a bit to read the description of the show on the tv screen. You're cuddling and eating on the couch, yes the same couch you just fucked on, it's multi-purpose. You snicker at your own joke before realizing what she's just said.

"So you're genuinely telling me, you didn't enjoy the first season?" You ask, taking a bite of your pizza. It's only got pepperoni on it but it's a classic nonetheless.

Mina shakes her head "No I hated it actually" She corrects you, turning her head with her mouth open. You move your hand away, catching that she's trying to eat your food. She only whines, giving you those adorable eyes.

"There's like seven more slices right there, why do you want to eat mine" You point to it, nodding your head in the direction of the small table before you pick up the remote to play the show. 

It's Squid Game 2 that you're watching as you allow Mina to take a rather large bite of your pizza anyways, despite giving her a hard time about it. "I didn't wanna move" She says as she chews.

"Sure" You scoff, acting like you didn't absolutely love feeding her. Just babying Mina in general is one of your favorite things to do with her. She knows that from the way you swipe off a bit of tomato sauce from the corner of her lip but she fails to bring it up because she too enjoys it.

See there's nothing better than a lazy day in your book. It may have been really unproductive, but sometimes a little bit of a recharge with the person you love the most is the little boost you need to make the most of the following week.

Lazy days are good days

[blublublujk]

good girl, gone bad

oneshot

word count: 6k

genre: established (secret) relationship

pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk

summary:

“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D

ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3

p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”

Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him. 

As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too. 

“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze. 

“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.

“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”

Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head. 

“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”

Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.

“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”

You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”

What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

—-

“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!). 

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”

The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier. 

Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”

He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips. 

“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.

With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”

You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.

“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”

He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”

“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”

He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red. 

It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years. 

There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there. 

You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.

At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating. 

Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love. 

Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever. 

“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will. 

Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.” 

“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was. 

“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all. 

It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable. 

“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”

Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”

He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds. 

“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”

He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”

“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.

Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.” 

“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.

“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work. 

You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).

He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.

His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”

Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”

Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.

He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth. 

What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all. 

Cigarettes and strawberries. 

Quite the pair. 

You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”

He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes. 

“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”

His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them. 

Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”

He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.

“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.

“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?” 

He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”

By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea. 

What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you. 

Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.

Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.” 

There’s no time to waste. 

“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time. 

“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him. 

His personal little cockslut. 

You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”

Double fuck.

When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.

“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”

“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.

Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”

You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.

“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.” 

You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways. 

“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”

You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock  answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world. 

And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking. 

Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.” 

He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”

Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request. 

“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.” 

You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going. 

Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.

“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”

Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”

He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste. 

Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”

He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.” 

He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.” 

Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around. 

“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now. 

His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal. 

You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this. 

“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.

His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole. 

“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!

“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are. 

“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!  

“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds. 

Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.

He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student. 

“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”

The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!

Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better). 

“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says. 

“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face. 

Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology. 

“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment. 

“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better. 

Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”

He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”

There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”

He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”

“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”

The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.” 

His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips. 

Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat. 

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.” 

Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you. 

“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response. 

“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face. 

“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words. 

You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.

He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you. 

“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”

He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you. 

Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.

“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”

Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.” 

He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive! 

“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb. 

“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his. 

“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.” 

You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot. 

The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart. 

He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.” 

“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”

“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in. 

His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines. 

The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.

“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”

“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?” 

“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”

Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. 

The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give. 

Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him. 

“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out. 

With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.” 

“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made. 

“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside. 

“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done. 

“Yes, all yours.” 

You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.” 

“I love you more.” 

“Impossible baby.”

—-

JK❤️: hiiii 🙂

me: hi baby :) everything okay?

JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))

me: baby! 😠  i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out

JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))

me: nice talk jungkook.

JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((

me: love you too lol

JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!

me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️

JK❤️: 😠😠😠 

me: ❤️❤️❤️

[gor3-hound]

CRY FOR ABSOLUTION - LEON S. KENNEDY

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

a/n: heyyy :3 had to make the priest collar edit on picsart so don't look at it too close... um... title from 'absolution' by ghost. thank you @ottermarbles for beta reading !! been working on this slowly while writing commissions... finally here !! rbs and feedback appreciated as always <3

cw: 18+ content, priest!leon, non-religious!reader, dead dove, non-con to dub-con to non-con, victim turned perpetrator, forced breeding, mentions of forcing marriage, religious themes, p in v, creampie, degradation, name calling, breath play

word count: 1.6k words

Leon can sense your presence in the church before he sees you. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, his whole body going rigid. He starts murmuring under his breath, eyes shut as he recites the prayer. He’d tried countless times to pray to the Virgin Mary, to strengthen his faith in God so he may resist your advances. To Saint Mary Magdalene, to guide you away from your life of sin. To God Himself to plead that you would leave him alone.

He was sure you were the Devil. Almost certain that you were some cruel test that God had bestowed on him.

He grips the rosary dangling around his neck as your footsteps get closer, whispering one final prayer to God, a desperate plea to give him strength before he faces you, hands trembling as his eyes open to meet yours. Leon couldn’t quite understand how you always managed to avoid the crowds, to worm your way into the Church between services, narrowly avoiding the other priests. You did not care for them, for your faith. You had your eyes set on Leon, a succubus in the flesh that had targeted him so callously.

”While I appreciate your dedication to the Church, I’m afraid the service has already drawn to a close, and there is a lot of work for me to get through before tonight’s service. Perhaps if you return later with the other parishioners, we can s-“

”Father, I hoped to speak to you before the service.” You say as you stalk closer, your heated gaze trailing him. He almost doesn’t hear you speak, the ringing in his ears dampening the sound around him, making your voice nothing more than a faint echo. He’s looking at you, but he’s not seeing you. His gaze is far away as he tries to think of something, anything else. A lump forms in his throat that he cannot dislodge no matter how hard he tries, swallowing to attempt to clear the passage enough so that he felt he could breathe, but with no success. His vision blurs, and he vaguely registers the tears forming in his eyes as you coo, cupping his cheek to wipe the few that fall.

”Please,” he whispers, voice cracking as he gazes at you fully, your face slowly coming into focus. What did he do to deserve this? He was a good man, wasn’t he? He’d tried his best to help the less fortunate, to be kind to everyone he spoke with. Had he committed some sin without realising it? Some blight against God that meant he deserved this? "Please, I don’t want this. You’re misguided, that's all. I can help you. You don’t have to do this.”

As always, his protests fall on deaf ears. He feels the steady stream of tears running down his face, brows pinching together as you back him up into the confessional. His chest continues to grow tighter and tighter until his lungs constrict painfully with each breath. The air gets caught in his throat and makes him choke, his brain shutting down as he just lets you free him from his vestments and tug down his trousers. He's glad to be rid of the collar, at the very least. It feels less like God was bearing down on his throat to drag him to Hell for letting this happen.

The first sob forces its way from his chest as your lips wrap around his cock. He wishes that he could hate the way it felt. It makes him nauseous - makes his head spin, but it feels good. He's at war with himself as to what this means, if enjoying the wet warmth wrapped around him means he's no better than you. He closes his eyes and clenches his fists as he tries to distance himself from your touch.

You pull yourself off of his cock with a pop, rustling around for something in your pocket. The crinkle of a packet has his eyes snapping open again, his eyes honing in on the foil you're holding up between two fingers. Panic seeps into his very core, his breath coming out in harsh puffs. “Thought we could try something new.” You say with a giggle, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

No. No, this couldn't happen to him. He's a priest - he's meant to stay far, far away from the pleasures of the flesh. He had to do something, anything to stop you. He swallows hard, eyes flickering around the confessional, trying to figure a way out of this before you lead him down a path of sin.

Leon isn't sure what happened. One minute, you were tearing open the condom with your teeth, and the next minute, he pounced. His hand gripped your throat to pin you down in the confessional, squeezing tight. His eyes are wide, almost feral as they meet yours, his free hand yanking your underwear down. His movements are clumsy as he prods as your cunt, trying to push his way in. After a few attempts, he manages to hook the tip on your entrance, and he slides home in one thrust.

“Oh.” He breathes out, eyes squeezing shut again. Maybe God wasn't testing him. Maybe this was his reward for being a good follower - all he had to do was breed this pussy full and wed you, and he'd be able to do this as many times as he pleased.

No. This was a test. He must have passed. He succeeded, and this was his reward. A pretty housewife for him to keep bred and safe in his grasp. A woman to cure his cold, lonely nights. He could finally have the family he always wanted. He was angry at you now, yes, but he would forgive you when you accepted his proposal and his seed.

“Temptress.” He hisses between gritted teeth, the hand on your throat tightening. The pressure against your windpipe is bruising, leaving you desperately trying to gasp in breaths through too tight of a passage. “Indecent whore. This is what you wanted, wasn't it? You didn't care when I told you ‘no’, did you? No? Then take it.”

He scoffs as you plead for him to stop again, his brows narrowing in frustration. He didn't want to do this. Leon was a good man. He was a holy man. He couldn't let you ruin him. What if the word of this got out?

“You wanted to ruin me, didn't you? You thought you couldn't take what you wanted from me without consequences? That… fuck… that God wouldn't punish your sins? I'm going to make you take my seed. You're going to be my pretty little wife, and no one will hear about this.”

He thrusts forward particularly violently after his words, his grip on your throat tightening enough that you start thrashing, cunt clenching around his cock enough that he has to halt his movements to stop himself from cumming too soon.

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will drag you down into the deepest depths of Hell with me. I swear it on the Lord Himself.” He grits out, finally releasing his hold on your throat.

He ignores your protests, a muddy mix of guilt and anger swirling in his chest with each plea that falls from your lips. You had shown him no mercy, and yet you expect him to spare you? You were nothing more than a Godless nymph. He would show you the light.

“Do you know your prayers, hmm?” He coos, gripping your chin. The pads of his fingers dig into your cheeks harshly, drawing a pained moan from you. He starts fucking into you again now that his orgasm has fully subsided, letting out a shaky breath at the drag of his length against your gummy walls. “No, of course. You have no respect for the house of the Lord - you just wish to defile it.”

He lets go of your face to hitch your legs over his waist, breaths coming out in heavy pants as he pistons his hips into you, sweat beading against his skin from exertion, bangs stuck flat against his forehead. “Repeat after me.”

‘Lord God, in your goodness have mercy on me:’

The words fall past your lips in a daze as you repeat them, his hand reaching up to your throat again, but not squeezing. A warning to continue as he speaks the next line.

‘Do not look on my sins, but take away all my guilt.’

He's close now, barely able to hold back as he ruts into you helplessly, reduced to nothing more than a dog in heat as you clench around his cock.

‘Create in me a clean heart and renew within me an upright spirit.’

His hips stutter as you repeat the last words of Contrition back to him, his head dropping to the crook of your shoulder as he gasps out sharp breaths. His cock jumps as he orgasms, stuffing you full of his cum with a noise more akin to a whimper than a moan.

He leans back, eyes taking in your appearance. There was some kind of sick satisfaction seeing you broken like this, knowing God had allowed him to take back the part of him you had aimed to destroy.

You would be his. He would keep you as his wife, his prize. He was given a chance to relinquish the sins you had bestowed upon him.

He would not let the opportunity pass.

[kasagia]

Right Hand VI

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You're tired of listening to others and of being afraid of prophecies that don't make sense and that were made up by someone else. Your present belonged only to you. And hell knows, you're going to take your future too. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; I was listening to 'Down Bad' by Taylor and I used quotes from a few of them; TEXT NOT CHECKED - I' barely managed to write it on time' I've just ended it and wanted to post it for you, since you are waiting for it so long; it took me ages but I hope you will like it; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~ Epilogue ~•♤♤♤•~

Feyd rarely felt pain he didn't like. The years spent on Giedi Prime—or rather, years of enduring his uncle's methods of making him a true Harkonnen, his worthy successor—made Feyd love pain. He found pleasure in it—something he had to learn if he wanted to survive.

But it didn't bring him any satisfaction or pleasure when you pierced his chest with one of his swords. He feels pure pain. Anger, betrayal, and hurt.

He hates the way he falls limply to his knees in front of you. He hates that he still looks at you like you're a saint. He hates that he hopes you'll at least look him in the eyes, as if that would bring him some kind of salvation. He hates how lost he feels now and how he's slowly losing awareness of his surroundings. He hates that even though you stabbed him, all he can do is stare at you, clinging to the sight of you more than to his life.

"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N."

He feels you unhook your poisoned dagger from his arm. Feyd thinks you're doing it to finish him off. Poetically kill him with the weapon he gave you. He closes his eyes and waits for the final stab or throat slit. But nothing like that happens. He doesn't have the strength to turn around and see exactly what you're doing, but your words alone are enough for him to imagine the scene that is happening behind him.

"I may not be a Harkonnen, but I've picked up a few of their habits. If you want an agreement between us, show me your hand." After your words, he can hear a hiss from Atreides when you plunge the dagger into your joined hands, piercing them both through.

Feyd would have laughed mockingly if he hadn't spent all his energy on breathing slowly. He remembered explaining to you how contracts, such as arranged marriages, were sealed on Giedi Prime. The Harkonnens shook hands and pierced them with swords, thus signing a blood pact. This also applied to marriages and other such things. Blood bound them stronger than any words or signatures on paper. He cursed himself for the fact that, seeing your scared face at his words, he withdrew from this idea and decided to make a verbal agreement between you. He should be the one to bind you with his blood, not Atreides.

The steel in his body rubs against his lower ribs, but it does not damage any major organs. He tries to keep the sword in the exact same position you stuck it in, but he feels like he's going to faint from all the pain, the blood, and the fear for you that he feels now.

You made him so weak that even after you stabbed him, all he could think about was your safety and your well-being. Every shaky breath he took, every slow beat of his heart as he fought to stay conscious—it was all for you.

He just hoped like hell that you weren't lying a few moments ago, that this would all turn out to be just one of your games, and that you would soon end Atreides' life. But it's not like that.

"Let this blood be a symbol of our union." Your sweet, dangerous whisper reaches Feyd's ears.

He's raging with powerlessness and anger. That Atreides dog didn't deserve to mix his blood with yours. Only Feyd should be able to do this. Only his black blood should merge with your crimson, staining your joined hands as you swore allegiance to each other. His heart hurts more than the wound you gave him as he imagine how you and this desert rat are now echanging each other's blood.

If he hadn't been placed in such a vulnerable state by you, he would have ripped Atreides' heart out with his bare hands for daring to mix his blood with yours. A cold shiver runs down his spine at the thought of Atreides connecting with you in yet another way. A way Feyd was robbed too many times.

He tries to get up, but he doesn't have enough strength. All he can do is place his hands on the floor, trying to take the weight off his torso. The blade scratching his flesh bothers him much less than the fact that Atreides has the nerve to touch you or that you're blatantly ignoring him while playing whatever game you're playing right now.

"Leave him to me. I want… to repay him for all these years of fulfilling his wishes." The cool, composed tone of your voice that you used many times when the two of you dealt with inconvenient prisoners did nothing to inspire his hope or quench his rage.

You really betrayed him. You, of all people. How stupid and naive he was to believe you. He should have killed you the moment his eyes met yours. You were an intruder. A spy in disguise. His bittersweet end.

The door slams shut behind Atreides. Feyd hears your footsteps, the sand from your soles falling back onto the ground—the same ground where his black, thick blood is now flowing. You walk over to him; if he could focus enough, he would see the toes of your shoes.

You kneel in front of him, gently tugging on his head, causing him to rest on your shoulder. He can smell your blood dripping from your hand. You stain his head with it. Under any other circumstances, he would have appreciated how close you were to him, but now, with the sword rubbing uncomfortably against his insides, your touch doesn't bring any comfort at all. Even your lips pressed against his forehead cannot calm the volcano of emotions boiling inside him. But he is helpless. He is unable to do anything; he is completely surrendered to your grace. It wouldn't bother him a few hours ago. Now he hated it.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, then use the voice on him to tell him to fall asleep. When he drifts off to sleep at your command, he is already planning how he will take revenge on you. And hell knows you're going to pay him for it.

"He'll be furious." One of your spies comments as she helps you carry Feyd's body out of the sietch.

Inessa was the only Harkonnen woman you could reasonably trust. She's done your dirty work many times, but... never THIS. You somewhat understood her concerns, but currently, when you both had to carry Feyd through the Fremen corridors and go unnoticed, you didn't necessarily approve of it.

"I am aware." You reply, looking around. Inessa and you somehow patched up Feyd's wound. Now you had to either drag him to the surface yourself and hope that someone would find him in the chaos of the fight or leave him with some of his soldiers.

You didn't like any of these ideas. But you had to do what you planned if you wanted to regain your freedom, even if it meant that Feyd would hate you for it for infinity.

"Fucking angry. I'm serious, Y/N." Inessa warns you again. You roll your eyes at her, for a Harkonnen she was very fearful.

You remember how her hands were shaking a few minutes ago as you both stitched up your new Baron. It was a makeshift dressing and still required treatment by a doctor, but it was enough to get Feyd to the ship and back to base. During this time, you will take care of everything here. You hope that by the time he wakes up, you will have finished what you set out to do. Otherwise, you don't see your future well.

"Just get him out of here." You grumble, turning into a side corridor, and encounter Harkonnen soldiers fighting the Fremen as they kill the last of them, their eyes shifting to the two of you. You nod at them. Without a word, they approach you and take Feyd from you. Inessa looks at you, worried.

"What if he wakes up?"

"You stuffed him with painkillers, and I ordered him to sleep. He won't get up until you're back on the ship." The woman sighs and shakes her head, looking at you intently as you speak.

"Y/N. You've had some… creatively stupid ideas, but this one is the worst of them all. He won't give up. You know it. So why are you doing this?" She asks, taking you off guard for a moment.

She was right. You could have returned to the ship with them, gone back to the safety of Giedi Prime, and let Feyd fight Paul alone. You could have let go and stopped participating in a war that wasn't yours. But at what cost? You've been obeying someone all your life. Bene Gesserit. Prophecies. Feyd. It's finally time for you to deal the cards. And you will do it. In your and Feyd's best interests. You just hoped that he could… forgive you, or see the reasoning behind your actions.

"For myself. For my freedom. For us. This is the only way to end the matter of Atreides, Fremen, and Arrakis. The only effective way."

"Don't you know it yet? You will never be free. We women will never enjoy men's freedom. There will always be someone to whom you must submit. You can't change your fate."

"Then I'd rather die trying." You say, turning on your heel. You don't look back to see her reaction to your words. You had too little time.

The burning sensation on your hand only reminded you of running out of it. The dagger that Feyd gave you must have also had an effect on Atreides. You don't know how advanced he is in Bene Gesserit teachings, so you had to hurry before he detected the poison in his body. Or, God forbid, neutralise it.

You wipe your sweating forehead with the sleeve of your hand as your body begins to fight the poison slowly accumulating in your body. The antidote rested safely in a small syringe hidden in the handle of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh. You just had to use it when the time was right.

You hope you will get everything done before you die.

You wander through the corridors without knowing where you are. You just have a feeling in the back of your head about where you should go. Besides, the escaping Harkonnens kind of showed you the way into the sietch.

Your hands are shaking as you slowly approach the main room—the one where the Fremen usually gather for large meetings and in case of an attack. Still, you thank Feyd for forcing you to attend the Harkonenn war meetings. At least now you are more familiar with the location of the Fremen's rooms and methods.

The closer you get to the main hall, the more Fremen women push past you, and you feel a little more confident walking through the crowd with them, confident that they are leading you to your place of harm in case of an attack. Even though the Harkonnen were already retreating from the area, some of them were still fighting the Fremen, who craved the blood on their swords and didn't let them just leave. You can only imagine the Feyd's wrath that they will have to face. His men didn't come... fully armed. Apparently it was supposed to be a quick action—get in and out with you, then launch a full attack and invasion.

You know that once he wakes up and heals up a bit, he's going to paint these halls with blood before he burns them to the ground.

Entering the main room, you immediately take a seat by the wall, watching all the Fremen gathering, carefully looking for Atreides among them. He probably had to make sure they "cleared" the halls from the Harkonnens. It makes you sick to think of them bragging about this as a victory over the Harkonnens. It makes you wish you had a little bomb with you...

"Are you already hiding in the shadows?" You shiver when you hear him whisper in your ear. You haven't learned to recognise his steps yet. They were irregular, different, and hard to detect and remember—as if he were constantly moving through the sand like a feather.

"The quicker I adapt, the better, right?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge. He shakes his head in amusement and watches the Fremen gather with you. It's strange that somehow no one has noticed him yet.

"I'm starting to understand why my cousin kept you so close to him."

"Cousin?" You ask in shock, turning your head towards him so you can look at him. This time he ignores you, not shifting his gaze from the Fremen.

"A little surprise. Maybe we all have a bit of Harkonnen in us after all?" He banters without giving you any of his attention. You snort indignantly, looking at the gathering people again.

"You look tired." You comment, wanting to tease him. You can barely keep yourself from stabbing him with your poisoned dagger a few times. But since he was talking to you so... carelessly, it meant he couldn't detect the poison. Good for you.

"I always am. I will rest when I sit peacefully on the imperial throne."

You would laugh at him if you could. He might easily sit on the emperor's throne, but he wouldn't be able to hold power over all the families for long. Certainly not if you and Feyd had anything to say about it.

Your heart clenches as you remember the moment you stabbed him. You had to. There was no other way to get rid of him long enough for you to take care of everything here. Also, he wouldn't allow you to do that if he knew what you were up to. Besides, if you didn't stab him, Atreides and he would get into a fight. Unfortunately, you weren't that confident in Feyd's abilities. He would be in a state of distraction if your well-being was at stake.

Besides, Atreides' words convinced you of this decision more than anything else.

More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

If there was anything you could praise about Paul Atreides, it was his cunning. And you were sure that if Atreides was somehow going to defeat Feyd, it would be through intrigue and trickery. And then you weren't ready to save your baron. So you had to use drastic measures to get him out and allow yourself to function fully. You couldn't give Atreides any leverage or advantage over you. You certainly couldn't reveal what a weakness Feyd was to you.

"Hmm… you have to survive first." You answered thoughtfully. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to look at you. His intense, analysing gaze makes you burn as you have to endure his unwanted attention.

"With such a talented Bene Gesserit as MY right hand? I have not the slightest doubt. You proved your loyalty by killing my cousin. I have no doubt that you are capable of great things. However... this sudden change of sides is shocking, I must admit."

"Why? Because I chose something better for myself? It was the same with Feyd. I could either stay among the Bene Gesserit and hope they wouldn't send me to breed with anyone, or I could take matters into my own hands. And I don't like blindly entrusting my fate to someone else, Atreides."

"I see... you look good with independence, Harkonnen witch, but don't forget who you answer to."

"Of course, Fremen messiah." The nickname you give him makes me chuckle. He reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You look carefully at his bandaged hand, which you pierced with a dagger.

You find yourself comparing his hands to Feyd's. Harkonnen's hands were hard, rough, trained from years of using all kinds of weapons. Atrdida's hands were smoother, less stained by effort. Another difference between them was that Feyd would never let anyone bandage the wound you gave him. He would rather wear them proudly until the wound heals itself. You should think it's sick, but years spent by his side have taught you… to appreciate such gestures. Maybe you really had a completely different perception of normality?

Atreides' fingers trace your jaw, caressing it gently. You look into his eyes and immediately see the familiar gleam of audacity in them. He looked at you like you were a prize—a nice thing that he managed to take from his enemy, which he can now put on his bedside table and look at to remember his victory. Under any other circumstances, you would have bitten his fingers off, but unfortunately, you had to behave. But only for a moment longer.

"What do you think you're doing?" An angry, cold female voice echoes behind you. Before you know it, you're being pushed sideways against the wall. A dagger at your throat. You act automatically. You attack a woman, disarm her, and push her against a wall. But before you can put a dagger at her throat yourself, Atreides steps between you.

"What's necessary, Chani. I would suggest you not attack my guest." The woman glares at him, and for a moment, you think she's going to attack him or spit on him. Then her anger shifts to you.

"This Harkonnen witch has killed more of our people than any of them. She should be dead, not taken in as a guest." She growls furiously, giving you a distrustful, mad look. You understand her perfectly. If you were in her place, you would do the same. Only Feyd, unlike Atreides, couldn't stop you from hurting your rival.

"It's not up to you to decide her fate."

Chani gives the two of you one last hateful glare and pushes past Atreides, moving into the crowd, away from the two of you. You look at the woman carefully, analysing her gait and posture. Similar to Atreides. So you found his teacher.

"Your…"

"Concubine." He finishes, thus answering your question. You raise an eyebrow at him in surprise.

"I see."

"Jealous?" This time, you can't help but snort in amusement, giggling at his absurd question.

"I would sonner be jealous of a sandworm than of you. What is bewteen us is just an agreement. Don't forget that, Atreides."

"That's why I like you. Give me a moment. We'll talk later. Don't go anywhere. I will find you."

He puts his hand on your shoulder. You assume he thinks it's a gesture of reassurance, but it's not for you. You anxiously wait for him to move away from you so he can speak to the crowd of Fremen.

You shiver as you briefly make eye contact with Chani, who is standing at the other end of the room. She's still seething with rage. You're not entirely sure why she's so devoted to Atreides, but after thinking about it longer, you realise what her reason is for being so protective over him. You would probably do the same things for Feyd as she did for Paul. However, you would be... more ruthless towards your rival. You wave to the woman, smirking. She looks away from you, focusing her gaze on Atreides.

You study him as well, carefully observing him as he speaks to the Fremen. He is imperious and powerful, but also arrogant and conceited. His overconfidence that he acquired among the Fremen—the belief that he was the chosen one—will lead to his death. You will lead him to death. Otherwise, no one will stand a chance against him. He had one significant thing that could ensure his victory: a huge crowd of people who blindly believed that he would bring them salvation if they obediently followed his every request.

And maybe you would feel sorry for these people and try to help them if your own freedom and future weren't on the line.

You play with the handle of your dagger. You press a small button. A small ampoule with a needle falls into your hand. You hiss, injecting the contents of the ampoule into your arm.

Atreides was right. - You think, listening carefully to the man's speech to the crowd. - More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

The faint hum of the ship's engine gives Feyd a clear indication of where he is. He opens his eyes and looks around the room. He's in the bedroom of one of Harkonnen's ships. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looks at his bare chest. He furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise when he sees no wound or bandage—just a tiny, sealed scar in the area where you pierced him with the sword.

"Where are you going?" Your quiet, protesting whisper makes him freeze. After a while, he feels your warm hands on his shoulders as you pull him back into the soft sheets and into your arms. You cuddle up to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Stay. We still have a lot of time before we land on Lankiveil, so you can spend it in bed with your wife. I doubt we'll find a moment of peace for ourselves when our little Na-Baron demands swimming lessons from you and a tour around the new planet, so use this little moment of peace."

Feyd's heart skips a beat when he feels your lips brushing on the skin of his neck and hears you calling yourself his wife. He allows himself to drown in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your gentle touch on his skin. He buries his nose in your hair, shuddering slightly as you place small kisses on his neck and lick his skin, teasing him. However, one thing was still bothering him…

"Little Na-Baron?" He asks, confused, when you lazily stroke his head with your fingers, drawing patterns on its pale skin.

"Our son. I pleased you so well last night that you forgot about our son, or are you just not awake yet, darling?" You ask him teasingly, opening your eyes to look at him for the first time.

Feyd is speechless when he sees the spark of malice in your eyes and the beautiful smile you give him. Your beauty, the calmness with which you lie curled on his chest—as if it were the most normal thing you do every day—and the strange warmth that spreads across his chest because of it make him lose his ability to speak.

You giggle, pulling him closer to you and placing a tender, gentle kiss on his lips. You moan, enjoying the feeling of his plush lips, sucking on his bottom lip as you claim him as yours. Feyd feels himself starting to harden just from the feeling of your lips on his and the teasing movements of your fingers around his nipples.

"I…" He tries to speak, but then he hears the baby's soft whimpering. He tenses up, unaccustomed to any interaction with children.

His gaze goes from the cradle placed in the corner of the room to you in pure panic, as he has no idea what to do with the crying baby. But you don't seem to care about the baby crying as much as he does. You groan in protest and pull away from him, burying your face in the pillow.

"Mhm... go to her, it's your turn." You mumble, not giving him a glance, as you hug the pillow instead of him. He starts to be a little jealous, but that feeling fades away, replaced by panic as the baby's cries intensify.

"Now you're letting me go?" He asks, hoping you'll change your mind and take care of the crying demon in the cradle yourself.

"I simply found a better use for you elsewhere." He huffs, leaning towards you and ruffling your hair. You punch him in the chest and force him out of bed. He rolls his eyes at you and turns hesitantly towards the crib.

He feels his legs shaking and his heart beating with nervousness. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is stressed and nervous by a crying baby in a cradle. He breathes deeply as he stands over the cradle.

His world stops when his eyes meet small irises that are a similar shade of blue to his. And his heart stops when he sees a little copy of you. Your child is undoubtedly a reflection of you. She only has his eyes, but the colour of her skin and hair, the shape of her nose, mouth, and eyes are all you. Feyd's heart pounds as he stares at the small miracle before him. Suddenly, the sounds reach him again. Panicked, he takes the baby gently, making sure not to accidentally hurt her, and in a few quick steps, he is by your side again.

"I… I think it is hungry." He says, reaching out towards you to hand the baby to you as quickly as possible.

"Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, did you just call our daughter it?" You ask angrily, sitting on the bed and looking at him furious. You sigh at his helpless expression and take your daughter from him. "Forgive daddy, Katerina. He doesn't usually behave like this." You mumble sweetly to the baby, trying to calm her down.

Miraculously, because Feyd can't call it anything else, you manage to calm down the baby in your embrace, her little lips pursing in dissatisfaction as she waits for you to feed her. Feyd swears she makes the exact same face you do when you're impatient or angry. His heart melts even more at the image in front of him.

Feyd sits on the edge of the bed, watching in fascination as you feed your baby. This scene seems... unreal to him. He had never experienced anything like this before—the feelings of warmth, safety, and boundless love and devotion that appear in him when he looks at the two of you.

He may have had vague memories of his mother singing bedtime lullabies to him and Rabban, but... he had never felt the way he did with you and your daughter. He had never felt that disarming feeling of home that made him allow himself to become vulnerable for the first time in many years.

He uncertainly reaches towards the child and gently strokes his daughter's head. The colour of her hair is identical to yours. Feyd's lips form involuntarily in a smile when the child reaches her little hand to his fingers, tightening his fist firmly. As she gently moves his hand away from her head, she does not let her grip on his fingers loosen. She was strong for a baby. She certainly had a warrior nature inherited from both of you. Feyd couldn't wait to train her...

He found himself thinking that all he wanted was to curl up in this bed with you and hold you safely in his arms before he would be brutally torn from this beautiful dream or vision.

He sits on the bed, looking at the two of you, when suddenly the bedroom door opens. The thud of small feet on the metal floor echoes around the room, and that's all the warning Feyd gets before the little white-haired boy lunges at him.

"Dad! Dad! We'll be there soon! I can't wait. Uncle Rabban told me that there are huge oceans that can swallow our ships if we land wrong! Is it true?" Asks the child, sitting on his lap and holding him tightly.

Feyd hesitantly wraps his arms around the boy, making sure he doesn't accidentally fall from his lap to the floor. His gaze quickly shifts to you in utter confusion. Rabban as a caring, mischievous uncle? What the hell was that supposed to be?

"Your uncle has a habit of distorting some facts, Feydor. I assure you we'll be fine. And Lankiveil is wonderful, isn't it, honey?" You ask Feyd, resting Katerina on your shoulder and making sure she burps.

"Yes. It is beautiful." He says, unconsciously running a hand through his son's hair as he looks at the three of you, unable to get over the shock and awe.

"I want a hug." Your son demands. You laugh as you pull him closer to you. When you see that Feyd isn't moving to join you all, you grab his hand and gently guide him back to the soft pillows. You lie there curled up, you with Katerina on your chest, Feydor between you and him as you wrap your arms around each other.

His son mutters something to his sister, but Feyd doesn't hear him. All he can do is stare at the three of you in amazement.

"Now sleep. Both of you. I don't want to hear any grumpy complaints about not getting enough sleep, okay, my boys?"

'It only happened once." Feydor mumbles, manoeuvring your and Feyd's hands to hug him tightly. "Besides, Dad was whining worse than me."

"I have no doubt that was the case. Your dad is a terribly fussy and grumpy man." You laugh and lean in to place a quick kiss on Feyd's lips. He strokes your waist, moving closer to you and your son as baby Katerina mumbles something in a language only she knows.

Feyd can only watch tenderly as his little family falls asleep, curled up in each other's arms. And he believes that this is the best possible future that can await him. He doesn't want the throne. He doesn't want to become emperor. He just wants to be able to fall asleep and wake up with you in his arms and your children running around. It's all he dreams about.

The younger Feyd would certainly laugh at him and mock him for such a trivial goal he had set for himself, but what more could he want with the title of baron and you by his side?

He saw perfectly well how the lives of his uncle and emperor turned out and knew the tragic fate of great people in power who decided to devote their entire lives to achieving the greatest possible influence. Feyd didn't want to follow in their footsteps. He wanted you. He realised, with horror, that this was enough for him—the vision or dream he had now was his ideal future.

"I love you." He whispers to your sleeping form before the darkness overwhelms him again.

He wakes up again on the ship, in the same room, and on the same bed. The difference is that your warm body is not pressed against his, and the throbbing pain from his stomach spreads uncomfortably throughout his body.

He groans, sitting on the bed and looking around. His hairless eyebrows wrinkle when he sees one of your spies with him. He automatically grabs the hidden knife and attacks your spy before she notices that he woke up.

"My Lord Baron, I can explain…" The woman says this as he presses the blade against her chest. She stops talking when he cuts off her access to the air by tightening his grip on her neck.

"Where is my right hand?" He growls, sticking to the remains of his control when he refrains from killing her. However, he does not stop himself from making a light cut on your spy's neck. Years of experience have proved that people were more willing to talk after he took some blood from them.

"It really wasn't my idea. She decided so. She knew that you would not let her do what she was planning, so she had to somehow... get rid of you from there, my lord Baron."

"Hm... that sounds like her, but... I would like to hear more about that plan of her. Say something useful and I might even spare your life." Feyd purrs, lazily dragging the blade down her neck to her collarbone, making a small cut.

He preferred not to hurt your toy too much. He didn't know how you would react to the loss of this particular spy. She must have been someone you trusted to entrust him to her.

But that didn't mean that Feyd couldn't land his anger at you on her for leaving him behind and completely unaware of your actions.

"Long ago, the Bene Gesserit had only one reverend mother. Their order was small then, but it was developing well. A certain ritual was invented to ensure that the most powerful of them was in power. It… is about the struggle of life forces. I don't know exactly how it's done, but… lady Y/N said that they both have to die for one of them to survive. She… she knew you wouldn't let her, so she had to make you leave that rat's nest so she could get the job done." A cold shiver runs down Feyd's spine. He needs a moment to compose himself and process your spy's words before he speaks again.

"They both have to die? What do you mean?" He asks, unconsciously tightening his already painful grip on the woman. His hand, the one holding the dagger, trembles slightly as he impatiently stares at her, waiting for an answer.

"I... they have to... they... their hearts stop beating and... the one who is stronger and has more life energy takes over the other's powers and survives."

"So... she may lose and die?" Fed sees your spy swallowing heavily after hearing his question. Thanks to this, he already knows the answer to it.

Strangely, instead of the huge, red fury and bloodlust, everything he feels is fear. Since he arrived at Giedi Prime, he has never felt fear. His uncle made sure that this emotion did not prevent him from reaching the ideal that his uncle demanded from Feyd. But at this point, when the vision of your dead body appears before his eyes, Feyd feels almost paralysed by fear of your life.

"There is... a little possibilty, my lord Baron."

This information is enough for him to make a decision. He stabs your spy in the stomach and allows her to sit on a bed. He reaches the exit in a few steps and opens the door with a bang. A doctor and two soldiers are waiting in the corridor. They look at him with fear in their eyes when he comes out, covered in blood. Before they can speak and probably inform him about his state of health, Fed is already growling at them and giving orders.

"Heal her and bandage her. She was only fulfilling my fiancee's orders." Fed tells the doctor. He is pleased with the surprise he sees on your spy's face. He intends to enjoy informing everyone about his 'engagement' with you. If you could have your plans, he could have some of his too. "Tell the pilot to turn back. And call more ours. We will burn these rats' nests to the ground."

With this promise, he leaves the room, ignoring the pain in his trunk. He must have found you before Fremen left with you for another hideout. He had to be fast and precise if he wanted to have you safe by his side. Maybe he should also ask the doctor for a sedative. Just in case you were stubborn enough to fight him instead of cooperating with him.

"What do you think?" Atreides' question catches you off guard for a moment. You stop watching the Fremen as they prepare to leave the sietch and shift your gaze to Atreides, raising an eyebrow in question. "About them. About my speech there."

"Are you looking for praise?" You mock, taking a closer look at what exactly he's putting into his bundle.

"I'm looking for a second opinion. Objective. Analytical and thorough." He replies, tying the fabric as he waits for your response.

"They will do whatever you want. Isn't that enough for you?" You ask, licking your lips as you choose your words carefully. You can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Paul wipes them away with his hand, not yet aware of the poison that courses through his veins.

You wanted to make sure as much as you could that when the moment came to defeat him and take his life force, there would be no shadow of a doubt that you would emerge victorious from the duel between you. After he went through the Reverend Mothers ceremony, you could try to perform the old ritual of reclaiming power between you two. This hasn't been done for centuries. So you hoped that everything you remembered from the old scrolls was true and that Atreides wouldn't surprise you with anything.

Even if he was a Kwisatz Haderach, you're still going to defeat him. No one and nothing will decide your fate.

"For now, yes. But in the future, I will need their full devotion. After all, I won't be the one to rule them on Arrakis." You raise your eyebrows questioningly, curious as to what his big plan for the future might be.

"Who do you want to entrust them to?"

Silence falls between you as you both look at each other intently. You know he's judging you, wondering how much he can tell you and how much he can hide from you. And you have to be convincing enough to gain even a little bit of trust from him. You know that stabbing Feyd helped you a lot with that. No matter how much it hurt you to do it.

"To be honest, you have the best skills to serve as Governor of Arrakis. The only question is, will you be equally faithful to me?"

"Me? Why?"

"They're already afraid of you. Besides, I saw your power—you're quite a powerful Bene Gesserit. Even if you don't like being called that, you can't cheat or change your destiny, no matter what."

"But... it is not all about power and fate, though is it?" You ask, slowly approaching him. "It is... something more there. Much more than we know." You whisper, looking at him with your most captivating gaze. Feyd would have killed him and tortured you if he saw you flirting with someone else... but luckily he wasn't here. And you had to somehow lower Atreides' guard.

"Indeed." He mumbles back and takes a step towards you. His fingers gently caress your jaw, tracing it until his fingertips brush against your lips. "My mother told me legends about the birth of the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. A woman who could bring thousands to their knees with a wave of her finger, tamed the most bloodthirsty of all beasts. Stilgar... has suspicions that you may be the mother of the one, the one to come. Of course, this conflicts with his perception of me as the chosen one."

He spoke the truth. You were the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. But not because you were born according to their program. You simply had potential, and they had way too much time and no obstacles to train you differently. You were supposed to be their perfect pawn in their game, to provide them with the Kwisatz Haderach. And now… you will kill the one who was supposed to be him.

"Even so, you don't lose power. They still listen to you. More than anyone else." You say, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips. He licks them, holding your jaw tightly as he leans slightly towards you.

"I may be my father's son, but I'm not going to make the same mistakes. You know, it is much safer to be feared than loved because... love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails."

"The prince Machiavelli." You say, knowing a quote from the book. You're a little surprised that he would read something like that. He also seems amazed that you know what book he took these words from.

"Indeed. Hmm... Maybe you're not that cruel and bloodthirsty Harkonnen witch people think you are. After all, you're a bit educated." Under any other circumstances, you would have kicked him in... his tender place for this. But now you have to smile sweetly, comforting yourself only with the thought that he will soon die at your hands.

"Believe me, Atreides. I am everything they talk about and more." You mumble before leaning in to connect your lips in a kiss.

Kissing him is… different from kissing Feyd. Less intense, less hot, and less passionate. With him, you don't feel that familiar thrill of excitement you feel every time Feyd literally devours you. This kiss is... too polite. There's not an ounce of desire in him, at least not on your part. You try to be persuasive, though, caressing his lips, but it's not the same plush softness of Feyd's lips. Your mind refuses to be fooled, and you realise with horror how deeply your new Baron has managed to get under your skin when you haven't been able to enjoy the kiss of any other man.

Atreides reaches for your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth. At least he was the only one having fun out of the two of you. You place your hands on his shoulders, slowly pulling your hidden dagger from your sleeve as you let the man kiss you and explore your body with his hands.

You almost sigh with relief when his lips finally leave yours. He moves to kiss your neck, and you decide that this is the moment to start the ritual.

"Stay still. Don't move or speak." You use the voice on him. He stiffens in an instant, his eyes widening slightly as the steel of your poisoned blade presses against his neck. "You were right. It's better to make them afraid of you than to love you."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him grab his hidden knife. But before he can stab you, you place your hands on his temples and recite the old formula, beginning the ritual. You feel yourself slowly starting to lose strength. You both kneel to the floor, life draining from the two of you.

It has begun. - you think as darkness takes over you.

This... is different from what you expected. Nowhere is it written what happens after the connection between the brains of the Bene Gesserit combatants is made. Or what kind of test are the two of you being put through to find out which one of you is stronger. You thought you and Atreides would stand in some imaginary arena and fight until one of you killed the other.

At least you would prefer this to the burning pain that overwhelmed you. You feel like you're immersed in pure, wild fire. All your nerves were burning. You felt your body, but at the same time, you were far from it. And all you could see and hear was blackness, screams, whispers, and songs in a language foreign to you. You feel like you've gone mad. Any pain you've felt doesn't compare to what you're going through right now.

You feel every cell in your body tear apart, and at the same time you remain in a void, unaware of anything except the feeling of pain.

But you endure it.

And suddenly, everything disappears. For a moment, you feel or hear nothing. It's just you and your consciousness as you anxiously await the turn of events.

Then various images begin to appear before your eyes—visions of the future and the past. You see every possible course of events that could occur and every single scenario that may happen. In some visions, both you and Feyd die; in others, it's just him or you; and in others, you both live to old age together. One element is constant. Only one. And you shudder every time you see the familiar figure of your future son ascending the throne as the Emperor and taking care of the entire world, restoring balance and peace.

All of Atreides' power has passed onto you. You knew everything. All possible futures. And they scared you more than you thought they would. And you feel completely different than you thought you would...

After some time and tens of thousands of visions, you return to your body. You begin to feel everything around you—the soft sheets beneath you, the softness of the pillow beneath your head, and the quiet beeping of the machines keeping you alive.

You struggle to open your eyes, hissing as the light hits your eyes. You look around, expecting to find a familiar hospital room, but instead you find yourself in Feyd's chambers. On fucking Giedi Prime.

"Welcome among the living." Feyd's hoarse voice reaches your ears. You turn your head towards him—too quickly, making you feel a little dizzy—but you open your mouth to speak anyway.

You have a terrible coughing fit, and your throat is drier than it has ever been on Arrakis. As you curl up on Feyd's bed, coughing up your lungs, you see him quickly fill a glass of water from the corner of your eye. He sits next to you, pulling you against his chest. You lean your back against him and drink the water greedily.

Feyd gently strokes your back, watching carefully as you drink the water. His gaze is watchful and attentive as he makes sure you drink the last drop from your glass.

When you finish, he takes your glass and walks over to the table to set it down. A cold shiver runs through you as you feel the absence of his presence. You remember how the last time you saw him, he was unconscious and injured. Because of you.

"I was more expecting to be chained to a wall in a prison cell. Or to have your harpies hovering over me and waiting for you to cut me up for them." You say jokingly, teasing him. But he doesn't laugh. You see him tense at your words before he slowly turns to face you.

"I had such an idea in my mind a month ago, when I found you pale as death in the arms of the equally dead Atreides. But I guess enough time has passed for me to get over it… or I just killed enough Fremen and doctors and Bene Gesserit women who couldn't bring you back to calm myself down."

"Month?" You ask, swallowing thickly as you bravely endure his stern glare.

"Mhmm… a month, two weeks and five days to be precise. This whole time, you were either losing your pulse or screaming until your throat was torn. Also, you had a fever that we barely managed to break down, and you were pronounced dead a few times, but who cares, right?" He asks casually, but you can clearly see the rage bubbling inside him despite his obvious concern for you.

"Oh… that's… a while."

"A little bit more than a while." He growls at you, playing with his dagger—the exact same one he gave you. You shudder as you see how much the blade has bent from the blood of the people you used it on.

"What about Atreides?" You ask, confused, wondering if it was really a good idea to bring this up now. Especially since he is playing with a poisoned dagger in his hands. And you used up the antidote to it (apparently) a month ago.

"I have his head. Do you want it on a silver platter, or should I just frame his tongue and hang it on the wall? Maybe right next to yours for being a liar and a traitor?" He asks furiously. But that's not what scares you the most. He's calm. Too calm and composed. And this was often how his anger manifested itself before he killed his victims.

"I... you know perfectly well that I had to do it. If I had done it differently, his... skills would have been lost. And I... now I see everything. I can prevent everything, I can make everything fine. Isn't that a big advantage for you? Have an oracle next to you?" You ask, slightly nervous about what he's going to do next.

"Depends on what this oracle wants to show me and what it doesn't want to show me. But since you know everything and the entire future, you probably know what I will do now." He says and heads towards the exit.

Your heart clenches, and you feel an inexplicable panic as you see him walk away from you. You can't stand how cold he was towards you. You have to do something. You can't just let him go.

"Feyd." You call after him and get out of bed to follow him. When you're on your legs, you lose your balance, and you would have fallen to the floor if Feyd hadn't caught you in his arms.

You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as you breathe quickly. You look at each other for a moment, allowing yourself to immerse yourself in the closeness of the other one.

Feyd places his hand under your knees and picks you up in bridal style. He puts you on his bed again and pulls away to leave. You grab his elbow tightly and hold on, forcing him to stay by your side as you give him a desperate, pleading look for him not to leave you.

Feyd sighs, sitting next to you on the bed. He leans towards you and rests his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against yours. And you feel really calm for the first time in years.

"You have no idea... I have killed men for smaller things than that. The only reason you're still alive... is because I prefer to destroy you myself. Without the help of any sick rituals or poison. You'll be begging me to kill you, little witch. I'll make you go through the same damn pain you put me through. You'll be begging me to stop making you scream. Oh, and I'll make you scream much louder than becasue of this stupid ancient ritual."

You know he's mad at you. And he has every right to do so. But you can't take his words seriously. Not when you have irrefutable proof of the depth of his feelings for you. As he said, he killed for less. If he wanted to, he would have gotten rid of you or hurt you by now. But he didn't.

"I'll happily scream because of you, my Baron." You reply, placing your hands on his cheeks. You stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs, trying to memorise every little bit of his skin.

"I… I'm serious." He growls at you. He places his hand on your neck and squeezes it gently. You smile and press a kiss just near the corner of his mouth.

"Me too. Do it. Show me how loud you want me to scream for you." You challenge him, placing small kisses on his face.

"Y/N... I should have killed you ages ago, woman. You poisoned my mind, you stabbed me with a sword, you left me alone to deal with the mess you made, you forced me to worry about you while you slowly died in front of me day by day, and I couldn't do any-fucking-thing. So tell me, how can I get past this? Why is it that all I want to do is fuck you until I feel like you're really alive and around me?"

You bite your lip, trying not to moan at his words. You lick your lips and lean towards him, kissing him. He moans into your mouth and tries to pull away from you, but you grab his neck and pull him towards you. Your heart speeds up as your lips caress his as you give all of yourself to him in that kiss.

You gently massage his scalp and lie down on the pillows. You pull him with you as he starts to kiss you back. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pulls away from you with a growl and presses his forehead against yours, trying to calm down for your sake. After all, you had just woken up... too bad his cock wasn't as sympathetic to you as you rubbed against him.

"I… my mother was a Harkonnen, you know? Maybe that's why I was so drawn to you. Like calls to like or something like that." You gasp, remembering the memory you saw. Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise. A shiver runs across his skin, realising the power you've taken from Atreides.

"What else do you know?" He asks, caressing your cheek. You turn your head and press a kiss on the palm of his hand. You surprise him even more, but he's not going to protest when you show him affection. This was very rare in his life, and the fact that this small, voluntary gesture of adoration was coming from you made him even harder.

"That I don't want to lose you for some visions that may or may not happen. That you love me and that these months have been torture for you. That you hated me as much as you needed me to come back to you. That I… only want to think about us. I only care about our future, and I'm willing to watch this world burn if it means I can hold your hand until the end. with no fear that fate will make us hate each other. That I want you to be the only prophecy I care about."

"What about your escape from fate? You never wanted… to be part of this Kwisatz Haderach thing. Will you run away from me when you see that the path we are following leads inevitably to what you were so afraid of?"

His doubts are absolutely right. But that doesn't change the fact that you need him close to you right now. That you need his reassurance that everything will be fine, not his resentment. And you know it was wrong of you to demand from him things like that, but... nothing about your relationship was healthy anyway.

"Fuck it if I can't have us. Fuck it if I can't have you." You say and pull him in for another kiss. He moans in shock into your mouth but quickly responds to you with equal passion. You gasp as he grabs your waist tightly and lifts you up, making you sit on his lap.

"You said you love me." He gasps as he slowly removes your nightgown that he dressed you in himself.

"I did... I also stab you." You say as your hands reach up to start undressing him as well.

"You did. And you killed Atreides." He purrs against your jaw, placing kisses and hickeys there.

"I did." You groan, your hands shaking as you try to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.

"You handed me over to our people."

"I did. You are quite heavy." You giggle as he blows on your neck, tickling you, before sinking his teeth into it. You dig your fingers into his back, pulling him close to you.

"Why did you do this?" He asks, pulling away from you to look at you carefully, gauging your reaction, making sure you were always on his side, and doing everything for your mutual good. For his good.

"Because I decide about my fate. Not Bene Gesserit, not any Atreides, not you or anyone. Only me. And I want you. And love you. And need you. But only as my equal... and if you will have me."

"I won't let you go anymore." He warns, laying you down on the bed and towering over you.

"I will never want to leave." You promise, looking into his icy blue eyes and stroking the scar on his lower stomach—from the wound you gave him.

"Good."

"Good."

"Say it again."

"Good?" You ask teasingly, pressing kisses to his neck and giving him a few hickeys, marking him as yours with more than just his scars.

"No. You know what."

"I love you."

"About damn time." He growls, devouring your mouth. You moan as he bites into your lower lip. You both don't hold back anymore. Feyd marks you like a map, as if he wanted to memorise all the sensitive places that made you moan and writhe in pleasure, pressing into his muscled body.

You forget for a moment the whole world, everything you've done for him, everything you both should have discussed—all you can think about is Feyd. About wanting to be closer to him, about needing him as desperately as he needs you. So how can Feyd resist you when you're so willing to take him in? When he had dreamed of this moment for years? When can he finally satisfy his desire for your body?

He trails his kisses lower, gently taking your nipple into his mouth and cupping your other breast, massaging it. You moan, scratching his scalp, throwing your head back against the pillows, and grinding your hips against his.

You're both starting to get annoyed by the underwear that's preventing you from clinging to each other the way you want. Feyd rips your panties off of you, wasting no time in pushing his fingers into you. You whine, thrashing around on the bed, wanting more and yet too sensitive for anything else. You open your eyes and gasp at the sight of his full, erect length rubbing against your thigh. Feyd pinches your nipple, making you moan and shifting your gaze to him.

"Eyes on me, little witch."

"But... ach!" You moan as his fingers speed up inside you, tears forming in your eyes as your hips move in time with the rhythm of his fingers as you chase your orgasm.

"Listen to your Baron. Eyes on me." He pauses to slap your pussy. You moan, biting your lower lip. "And don't hold back any sounds. Or I'll punish you like I should have since you woke up."

It's very hard to keep your eyes open for him. Especially when his fingers massage your clit so perfectly and fill you up. You reach your hand to his hard cock on your thigh and rub it gently.

He growls, kissing you hard and punishingly, as you try to speed things up and make him lunge at you in a frenzy of lust, when he wants to tease your pussy and punish you accordingly first.

For a month he waited by your bedside, bravely holding you through the stages of your screams and high fevers, making sure you were alive, breathing, and your heart was beating in a rhythm he had memorized. He deserves to have some fun with you...

"Feyd... please..." Your moans, the kisses you place on his jaw, and the way your fingers caress the scar on his muscled stomach—the one you gave him yourself—make him lose his restraint, which was already frail and weak. At least that's how he explains his desire to immediately fulfill your wish.

His arms wrap around you tightly as he gently pushes into you, making sure his entire alabaster length will fit inside you. He stops, cursing in his tongue and resting his forehead against yours as he gives you a moment to adjust to his length. Finally. He finally feels you all around him. And you're tighter than he dreamed.

"Damn… you little witch…"

"I know..." You gasp, wrapping your arms around him, and kiss him hungrily, basking in the feeling of fullness as his length perfectly fills the void inside you. It's warm. It's nice to feel him so close to you. It's nice to be with him. You moan as he starts to move slowly, testing how far he can go.

Feyd growls, picking up his pace when you don't protest, his hips bucking wildly against yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.

He grips one of your hips and cups your cheek with the other, making sure your eyes are focused on him. He kisses away the tears streaming down your cheek, licking them off your face. He kisses you fervently and hungrily, catching every moan and grunt you make as his hips grind against yours. A wet sound echoes through the room, occasionally interrupted by a moan from either of you as you finally come together in the most primal, animalistic way, demanding each other.

"Mine. Only mine." Feyd growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful Baroness. Fuck. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around his chambers.

"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. I will never let you escape again, I will never again let you out of my sight for more than a second, I will never again let you fight against the world and fate alone. We are the two sides of the same coin... WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.

You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss.

And for that moment you knew what cosmic love really meant. And you would fight with anyone to be able to experience it whenever you wanted.

"I love you." Feyd whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple and tightening his grip around you.

He slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you, still holding you in the iron grip of his arms. You lazily snuggle into him and trace the scar you gave him with the fingertip of your finger. Guilt grows within you, and for a moment, you think that he purposely allowed this scar to remind you of what you did.

You decide to talk to him about everything tomorrow. It was just the two of you for now, and you were going to enjoy this as long as you could. You place your head into the crook of his neck and take his hand in yours. You tangle his other hand in your hair and snuggle into him, sighing as you feel his touch, warmth, and scent around you.

You both fall asleep cuddled together. And for a moment, you allow yourself to be in bliss of his touch and closeness, not worrying about any politics or issues that you should discuss instead of... giving in to something you have wanted for a long time.

From now on, you decide your fate.

Only you and Feyd.

That's why you make sure that your first child will be a daughter.

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren

[bunji-enthusiast]

Run, Run Far Angel

Note || I am obligated as a fanfic author to write this, sue me. I got attached to DogDay, and he deserved better in Chapter 3.

WC || 2,070

<(You are here)><(sequel part)>

Sypnosis || An unlikely shortcoming of a friendly entity, or, You get a new friend in spite of this hellish factory.

The noise that had buzzed in the far reaches in the depths of your ears had annoyed you to no end, insistent to remain with you. So many times over had your guilt marred your sense of peace, your sense of futility. Whatever control you felt you had in your life was completely gone the moment you had come back to the accursed place known as Playtime Co. Toy Factory. So many unruly things had gone here, things done and said that left you chuckling–few that had left you with regrets.

Regrets that had stayed with you for well over ten years, since your co-workers had disappeared. You always had a sinking feeling you knew well what had happened to the last of them, your friends and those that you had come to consider family. 

Then you fell into Playcare, a place once filled with laughter and joy, something of which was indescribable. To know the children here and being able to hear such joyful playing and sometimes the odd cry, it was fulfilling, now the whole Factory–every floor there was to know–was devoid of the very same life you’ve come to know and love all those years ago.

Now the only thing that had tormented your mind, as it always had been since you first arrived, was your fight or flight. Instinctive you were, but you hated every minute of having to run and hide away from the monster that had presided reign over their domain, on of which the very one you had to be stuck with was-

“Catnap?” You muttered, thumbing the scarred fur that was blotched with ashy spots, as if it were burned by fire. 

The small recreational stuffed animal looked so adorable for the most part, yet it disturbed you greatly, guilt was predominant in mind and body. In all of your years you had remembered working at the Factory you don't ever recall the name of Catnap, the creepy elongated mouth had stood out to you the most.

He was hunting you, toying with you for sport. You couldn’t really understand why he hadn’t just gunned you for killing you at a moment's notice, though you felt a breath of relief that you could buy yourself time.

Supposedly some of this relief is partial to the fact that this Ollie kid was guiding you on where to go, with how dark this place was is absurd to you–so the guidance was appreciated. A voice had finally snapped you out of your ever consuming thoughts, it was terribly the truth.

“Hey are you alright? Just press that button and you’ll be through in no time! The small critters cant seem to get you from up there so you should be alright.” Ollie, yes Ollie that is the kids name. Who is this strange person anyway?

Unfortunately you weren’t in a position to worry about that right now, you simply pressed the button with the help of your grabpack. Trying to remember all the hands you had now with you was troublesome, but you manage.

‘I suppose.’ You wonder if there is anyone in this place that won’t actively be out for your head, truth be told.

Maybe that was a miracle in mind, as you walked through the desolate rubble the air seemed to desaturate, a mist once permeated with dread and the iron taste of blood seemed to float away as you came across a surprising display. Gruesome but something nobody should have to see or experience. 

It seemed to be DogDay, you could've sworn coming across a cardboard cutout of the very same character earlier. 

He seemed to be so.. Sad.

“You…you’re Poppy’s angel. Come to save us. Nothing left to save, not here…You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. Their home.” His voice was broken, forlorn, vocal cords riddled with experience he never wanted to relive again. You felt saddened on his behalf, no doubt the pain he is feeling right now is tremendous. For a moment, silence had filled the comfortable atmosphere rendering you with a small pit of anxiety balling within your gut.

Still you feel as if you had to speak, but you allow Dogday to have his part, that much you could try to do for him.

DogDay’s head lolled about as if he were a ragdoll, the effort to make movement was extraneous. “A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit - fill what feels empty inside themselves.” Those words sparked an ire of curiosity inside your trodden heart, you wanted to help him now.

You needed help, especially answers too. He was in pain, and you wanted to help him, so to ease your guilty conscience a little; hopefully in the process of gaining a friend at the same time. “Catnap.. Just, I don’t understand him.” DogDay raised his head, looking at you wistfully as if he had expected the aforementioned cat to be brought up. 

DogDay winced as he moved, each little rattle sending painful vibrations throughout his body–the phantom legs hadn’t brought any peace to him whatsoever.

“That thing…CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” His words carried an aura of ominous spiels, as if you were to heed this warning. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.” 

In their place, you would take measures to avoid such a fate too if you would. To a point, you could sympathize with the small toys, not being able to do anything and the teetering possibility of being killed always hanging over your head. Knowing that alone is unfathomably terrifying.

“Would explain why they were hunting me previously..” You murmur, now tucking that thought to the depths of your mind. Still you wanted to hear out DogDay, for he knew better of what had gone on here then you did. His head had shagged, fur ruffled and dangling about as he had squirmed slightly.

“We tried to fight it, the Prototype’s control. I’m…the last of the Smiling Critters.” His tune was mournful, his friends really had been killed right before his very eyes. Catnap’s gas, you remember it well enough. 

You had to take a moment – articulate your words. You were completely filled to the brim with anxiety and alert, you remind yourself to not let down your guard in spite of being with someone who has no intention of wanting to kill you. “You had tried to escape, and he… knocked you out with his gas?”

DogDay’s brows creased, confirming your answer. You felt so terrible for him, causing you to be firmly set on a decision. 

You were helping him get out of here, in no way shape or form did you feel he should be left behind in shambles like this. “This is probably going to sound, insane. But I’m gonna help you get outta here.” Dogday perked up at this, nodding his head no.

He certainly didn’t want you to die, especially not on his account.

“Angel that is not wise! I will slow you down.” He persists, “Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live. You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment–” You didn’t want him to change your mind, so as immediate as you were, You desperately grabbed at his arms.

Quickly and surely enough the small critter toys had began crawling toward DogDay, you certainly would not put up with that. You fired a flare gun at the small critters, as much as you could so you could buy time to get DogDay out of his chains.

It seemed Dogday had sensed your determination to want to help him in spite of his warings, even with how much he had tried to convince you to leave. “You are doing well Angel, keep them away from me.. I will do my best to free myself of these.” His voice felt strained, cut off with a cough as he wriggled free–even if every brittle bone in his body had begged him to just lay there and rest.

You thanked him silently, continuing to work away at the critters who were highly determined in their goal to possess DogDay and resume their chase to kill you. “I am free! Quickly now Angel, quickly.” He ushered you forward to run right away, you picked him up as soon as he had done so and heaved him over your shoulders with a heavy breath as a display of your efforts. To say he was surprised at your willful strength was an understatement, he silently applauded you for your strength to keep moving.

Though, it hadn’t removed any of his worry for you as you continued to run forward, your muscles straining to keep up with your mind. From what he can understand of humans anyway, you were exhausted, though he felt it wasn’t right to speak out on it anyway–safety first before talking. 

“Almost there, Angel.. You just need to get to that elevator over there!” He jabbed his finger in the direction you needed to go, and you went on instinct with his direction. Your muscles ached and burned, but you could rest as soon as you reached the elevator, you couldn’t risk DogDay being left behind helpless with the small critters.

Speaking of which, they were still chasing you and your new companion. You wished they stopped, but you had considered an aforementioned thought, they only do this to ensure their fate wasn’t like his. Since then this has wildly changed.

You were close to the edge.

Then, you leaped, everything seemed to slow down. DogDay held on tightly, hands wrapped around your neck secured tight, to you it seemed comforting in the depths of your sudden despair.

You dropped right onto the metal plate, which luckily had railing. The door shut right behind you as DogDay had quickly made action to press the button to start up the elevator nor long after you had succeeded in jumping to the elevator. He slumped with a sigh, something you could very much agree with, sitting down with a thump following in your wake. 

Truth be told, you weren’t sure of how much more you could take much more of this nightmare. You may just as well be in a very long dream, and you were just actually sleeping at home, but no way however as the exhaustion had finally settled into your bones. 

Weary bones creaked about as DogDay made an effort to check over your slumped body, wanting to ensure you were not injured anywhere before he spoke, “Whatever questions you have..” He paused for a moment as if he were considering his words, something of which seemed to happen to a lot of people and toys alike in this Factory. “I will answer, rest for now first.”

DogDay was being his typical self, always so worried over someone else before considering his own health. His own legs being severed must be a great deal of pain, you wanted to ask him to rest too. Yet, you were too tired to respond, only nodding curtly as sleep had stolen you away from your awakened consciousness. 

A genuine smile seems to relax DogDay’s expression, you sorely needed rest. He would help you get that rest, things to talk about and things to face would come later. “You have done impossible things, you have run far. Thank you.” He quietly spoke, curling up to cuddle you. 

His head laid to rest on the crown of your head, hands and arms elongating ever so slightly to surround you in his warmth. DogDay was a leader, a friend, but he was also a good napping buddy. That much was certainly no lie to be told. 

Silence seemed to fill his ears now, sleep was creeping up to DogDay as well. Ah, he cannot sleep right now. You were in his care and vulnerable, especially considering you had gone through the trouble of freeing him. 

To those tormented, the madness had enraged man and toy, you were their saving graces. Someone they could get behind, without the utmost support where would you be now?

“Night has fallen, but for you I will do my absolute best to help you, Angel.”

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part Five: Thin Line THE FINAL PART (Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four)

Gally x Fem!Reader

There is a paper thin line between love and hate. You and Gally have been using that line as a proverbial jump rope for multiple passion-filled weeks. In the wake of your last argument with him, you both are pulled further towards the affectionate side of said line, much to both of your protests. 

Genre: enemies to lovers, light angst, smut scenes sprinkled throughout

Word Count: 6K Read Time:

Warnings & Info: movie version, arguing, lowk angry sex, betrayal??????

Author’s Note: IT’S DONE!!! Oh my god this has been so fun to write. I had no idea what this series was going to turn into when I started it and it has been a JOURNEY. Thanks to everyone who left a kind comment, reblog, or heart; y’all truly motivated me to keep going when I felt like giving up due to writer’s block lol. Thanks for everything and stay tuned for my next upcoming fics! I’ve got a new, super duper Hurt/No Comfort Teen Wolf series I’m dropping soon and a Maze Runner one shot that’s lowkey a crackfic???? Maybe??? So hope you enjoy those!

<----------------->

Day 37

Gally feels as though a large rock has been dropped straight into his chest cavity. He wasn’t aware that emotional pain could manifest physically until this moment. He wonders how long he can lay here until his crew or his friends come knocking, starting up another slew of well-meaning questions that he might not be able to answer without bursting into tears again.

Fuck, I’m so pathetic. All those months spent preaching about how Glade girls are a distraction and here he is, letting his heart get practically ripped open by one. I’m so stupid. He pulls himself up to a sitting position, almost wincing in pain at the movement. She just wanted to fuck you, why’d you have to ruin it? He pulls his clothes on slowly, his limbs feeling significantly heavier today than any other day.

Day 39

You shouldn’t miss him. You know you don’t have any right to anxiously search for his face across The Glade. But every time you do catch a glimpse of his broad figure, doing manual labor under the hot sun or his bright blue eyes, crinkling with laughter while talking with his friends, or his calloused hands, holding a backhoe as he helps out in the garden, you feel like all of the breath has been sucked from your lungs in one fell swoop.

Despite the torture of your access being cut off from him, you still haven’t even begun to understand your feelings for him. Or how they had managed to blossom despite the thick layer of hatred you had fought hard to smother them with. 

Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe the hate wasn’t covering up the mushy feelings, but mixing themselves in, like an emotionally taxing cake batter. Love and hate coexisting within your frame drew you like a magnet towards Gally. Whether fighting or, (to put it indelicately), fucking, there’s something within you both that ignites everytime you two are near each other. You hope that that flame hasn’t been extinguished indefinitely.

Day 40

Gally opened his eyes this morning. He thought of you. He closed his eyes late tonight. He thought of you. His dreams aren’t even an escape, as you’ve become the only subject in them. They’re not sexual, like they were before you two hooked up for the first time. They’re embarrassingly soft.

You, nestling against his body in his bed. Your laugh, just ringing on repeat. You, patching up an injury of his in the Med-hut, smiling gently at him the whole time. You, holding his hand under the table in the dining hall as you eat. But the most captivating one by far is the one where your face slowly comes into focus out of a white void. You smile at him for a moment, then speak; “Gally…I love-

He awakens with a start, his bleary eyes wildly searching his darkened hut for anything that will bring him back to reality. When he finally does come to his senses, the ache in his chest starts afresh, fueled by your imaginary confession.

Day 41

“I don’t mean to pry. Just, checking in, I guess,” Thomas had whispered over breakfast this morning.

“You good?” Zart had asked with an uncharacteristically concerned look on his face this afternoon. 

“Seriously, if there’s something going on; you can tell me. I’m here for you, mate” Newt had stated softly this evening, before quickly leaving Gally to eat his dinner alone, as he could tell the Builder wasn’t in the mood for company.

Each display of concern had tightened Gally’s chest and made the air dissipate his lungs for just a moment. Each question sent a kaleidoscope of memories of you spinning through his head. He doesn’t know how to answer them; he doesn’t even know how to answer himself. Racing questions of love and feelings and hatred and lust have been swirling in his head since the moment he sent you away that night. He can’t seem to separate what he’s been telling himself to feel and what he actually feels. And would it even matter if he could?

If he could figure out how he felt about you, would it change the way you saw him?

Day 42

You watch Minho jog confidently back into The Glade after another evidently successful day of dodging death in the Maze. The setting sun casts a romantic backdrop behind him and you admire the swiftness of his gait, the angle of his jawline, the veins bulging in his hands and the way all of those things are getting closer to you as you’ve begun walking towards him as though entranced.

“Hey Minho,” you call out when you’re several paces away from him and he looks up with a smile.

“Hey Y/N; how was your day?” he asks, quickly breaking from the group of his friends forming around him in favor of walking in step with you.

“Fine. Listen; do you wanna go out with me?” you blurt out, surprising yourself with the question as much as him. 

Minho blushes and shock causes the smile to fall from his face unceremoniously. His mouth feels dry all of the sudden and he has a hard time hearing his own response over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Um…yeah? Are you-are you asking me out?” he croaks out quietly, feeling as though this moment might just be too good to be true.

“Yeah…” you nod, as if pondering the question yourself. “Yeah I am,” You’re not quite sure why this is the coping mechanism you’ve decided to employ, but you once heard Ariana mutter a crude phrase to Gia when she got left high and dry by a Builder and you’ve always wondered if it’s true; “The best way to get over one guy is to get under another,”

Day 43

Gally was usually in bed at this hour, but he realized he left his jacket sitting on a pile of lumber at the construction site and it was almost certainly going to rain tonight. So he dragged himself out of bed to go and get it and that’s when he heard the telltale pitch of your voice cut through the otherwise silent Glade.

“Minho…” your muffled moan rings out clearly, in a tone of voice Gally is all too familiar with. It’s coming from the Keeper of the Runner’s hut and the soft grunts and garbled compliments in the lower voice that accompanies yours, are no doubt coming from him.

Gally stops dead in his tracks, the cool breeze of night whistling the tall grass around him. The bitter drip of betrayal floods his veins like a deadly poison that effectively stops his heart for a moment. He should be furious, as that’s his time-tested reaction to almost any wrongdoing done to him. He’s territorial and aggressive and certainly not above ripping Minho’s door off its hinges and confronting the both of you for this unexpected menage a trois. He doesn’t, though, as he can’t bring himself to move, let alone cause substantial property damage.

He stands motionless in the field, his jacket balled up in a two-handed, white-knuckle grip, and he waits for the familiar heat of his anger to rush to his temples. But it doesn’t go there. Or to his fists, to prepare him to punch. Instead, it pools gently behind his eye sockets, squeezing his tear ducts until hot tears are streaming down his face for the second time this week.

Gally lets the humiliation wash over him like a gentle wave. He’s used to pushing away feelings like these, trying to remain strong no matter what obstacle he’s faced with. But right now, his resolve weakens and crumbles, like an eroding sand castle. He lets the tears fall without protest and the pain in his chest spreads outward until every fiber of his body seems to ache slowly for you.

Only for a minute though. Just a few moments of weakness. Of letting himself be a boy with a broken heart and nothing more. And then that minute passes. He wipes his tears, he starts back towards his hut, he forces his body to move from its leaden stupor.

It isn’t until he’s laying in his bed several minutes later that the anger finally starts to replace the pain. He comes back to himself, letting his fury cover up the sadness beneath it like the sun eclipsing the moon.

Day 44

The med-hut can often feel like a thatched-roof prison, but today it seems to be the opposite. It is a fortress, shielding you from the litany of awkward encounters that might occur, should you step outside of its boundaries. You move through your to-do list of mundane tasks, your hands completing them easily as your mind wanders elsewhere. 

As you restock the supply closet, it plays the memories of your spontaneous tryst with Minho last night as clear as if you were watching a recording of them. The sound of his gruff voice, the sight of his shoulders glistening with sweat above you, the feeling of his body colliding with yours over and over; these images dance intoxicatingly on your consciousness. You tried to keep your mind on the Runner for most of the morning, thinking of how easily your conversations with him went, how he just seemed to fit into your life without you needing to move anything around to accommodate the space he takes up. 

It also helps that he’s clearly very into you, and probably has been for a while. But no matter how many pros you could come up with for Minho, there was always one, glaring con burning in the back of your mind.

He’s not Gally.

Which is a ridiculous thought because Gally is an infuriatingly difficult person to be around, let alone pursue romantically . He’s an arrogant asshole most of the time. He’s exceedingly angry and decided to hate you the moment he met you. He called you a slut in front of everyone. He’s coarse and prickly and generally unhelpful. He’s nothing like Minho, with his heart on his sleeve and a helpful attitude.

Having sex with Minho felt like what you assumed sex should feel like before you had it; good, but slightly awkward and then over entirely too soon. But sex with Gally felt like something almost indescribable. When he’s with you, he doesn’t just make the world seem better; he makes it melt away entirely. There’s a passion that sizzles beneath every encounter like two live wires intersecting. 

It can’t be replicated with anyone else. So as sweet as you knew the Runner would be to you, something tells you that you’d never be fully satisfied with him. The Builder is the only option for you.

Day 45

Gally moves through the slow-moving dinner line as if in a daze. Once his plate is full, he scans the dinner hall for the emptiest table he can find, until he catches a glimpse of his friends, animatedly talking at a table in the direct center of the room. He feels a pang of guilt reverberate through his chest as it dawns on him that he’s been essentially ignoring them for days now.

As he walks over to their table, he starts to pick up on bits and pieces of their conversation and it becomes increasingly clear that his original path was the correct one to take.

“...believe you got lucky, you dog,” Zart hisses, barely concealing his jealousy. Minho grins knowingly.

“I know. And she’s…” he trails off and widens his eyes, “good,”

“Like she’s done it before?” Newt asks with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah. But who could she-” Minho starts but his sentence is cut through with a barking order, courtesy of Gally.

“Are you talking about Y/N?” He’s standing with his feet spread apart, his dinner tray in one hand, the other balled into a fist. He looks like he’s ready for a fight, and Minho’s never seen that stance directed towards him. The Runner feels his heart rate spike and the heat drain from his cheeks as he struggles to come up with an answer.

“Gally…I ...yes but-,” Minho manages to stammer out but it doesn’t seem to matter much. Gally swiftly pivots on his heel and storms out of the hall in a huff, resigning to eat his dinner in livid silence in the comfort of his own hut.

“What the hell was that?” Zart blurts out as soon as Gally is out of earshot.

“Why’s he so angry?” Thomas asks genuinely.

“I thought you said Y/N and him made up,” Newt says earnestly, searching Minho’s face for answers.

“I thought they did,” Minho whispers quietly, trying to keep the shiver of fear from creeping down his back. He finally gets with you and now Gally’s going to kill him? Great.

“Guess they didn’t,” Zart shrugs, “You might as well start planning your funeral now, Minho,”

Day 46

You had almost jumped out of your skin when Gally had leaned in close and told you to meet him in his hut at nine. He’d said it in your ear as he passed you to get into the meeting room for one of Alby’s “town hall” meetings, as he called them. Just as quickly as he had gotten next to you, he had disappeared to the other side of the room, and had seemed determined to avoid your eye contact for the entire meeting.

You had half a mind to think that this might be some kind of cruel joke as you walked obediently to his abode as soon as it hit nine. But it didn’t matter. You wanted to see him so badly you didn’t care how this could end.

You slink through his door in your familiar way and stand to face him. His expression is unreadable and his body is tense. There’s a strange energy in this room that you haven’t felt all the other times you’ve been here. You open your mouth to greet him but he cuts you off with a coarse command.

“Get on your knees,” It’s not an aggressive statement, just firm. You’re taken aback by his directness, but then become intrigued as a smile pulls at your lips.

“Is that any way to talk to me?” you tease. Gally stiffens and holds firm.

“It’s a fine way to talk to you. Do it,” he repeats in the same monotone.

You comply wordlessly and he makes his way over to you, undoing his belt as he walks. He stands in front of you and lets you do all the work of pulling down his pants, then his boxers, then taking his hard cock in your hands and eventually, your mouth.

He lets his head lull back and his hands find a firm grip in your hair as he tries to lose himself in the pleasure of your tongue swirling around his tip. He tugs on your strands sharply, extracting a strained whimper from that Gally tries to ignore. Everytime he gets close to his mind going blank, a worry manages to slip through the cracks. 

Did she do this for Minho? When they…was he better than me? Did she miss me? Like, at all? Did I miss her? Do I love her? And if I do, what the hell am I doing treating her like this? 

Though you’re growing wetter by the second and determined to make your companion feel good, your mind is far from at ease as well. Guilt rattles your chest at the memory of your tryst with Minho that failed to smother your feelings for the Builder then anger at said Builde’s forcefulness replaces it then a deep pining overtakes that feeling and then your brain finally circles back around to raw sexual attraction.

Both parties can feel that the other is in vacillation between an array of conflicting emotions and it reads plainly in your body language. Gally’s hips are taught and his breathing is shallow and your hands are gripping the backs of his thighs with desperation, as if terrified he might walk away at any moment.

The sexual encounter continues robotically, as if you two are just carrying out a complicated program of instructions given to you by software developers. Clothes come off, lips meet, hands travel downwards, cores pulse with heat but the spark is dead and buried

Gally’s eyes laze out of focus as his hips thrust themselves into you. Your soft moans and the sounds of skin chafing against each other fills the warm air in his hut. He can feel the emergence of an orgasm unraveling his core and pants with pleasure as he plunges deeper inside you, but neither sensation can stifle the mounting dread he feels.

He then ceases his movement abruptly, causing your mind to reel from the sudden lack of friction.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he mutters softly, more trying to convince himself than you.

“What?” you murmur breathlessly, pulling your neck upwards to look him in the eyes.

“I said I don’t want to do this anymore,” he repeats louder, still not meeting your eye line. He pulls out of you and gets off the bed, leaving you in place.

“Wait…what? Gally what the hell are you talking about?” you accuse, pulling your once aroused body up into a sitting position.

“This was a mistake. I never should’ve invited you here. Get dressed,” he rasps, aggression growing in his tone. You scoff with indignation but follow his instructions.

“I’m sorry, what about this was a mistake?” your voice queries, venom filling your tone, “Starting this in the first place or ignoring me for like, two weeks and then suddenly inviting me back?” you continue, your hands fumbling for your underwear as Gally pulls his on in front of you. His back is still towards you, conveying a level of coldness that plants an ache deep in your chest.

“Does it fucking matter Y/N?! I don’t wanna do this, can you please just leave?” he snaps angrily, wheeling around to face you as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“Yes it does fucking matter! Why is your first fucking instinct always to tell me to leave?! We never talked about what happened two weeks ago and now you just wanna avoid discussing whatever the hell is happening now?” your voice rises to a screech as you clip your bra together in the front and spin it around so it’s on correctly.

“What’s there to discuss? If I send you away now you’ll probably just jump on Minho’s dick again so what’s the issue?!” he bellows, stepping closer to you and abandoning all attempts at dressing further. You recoil in shock, a sharp inhale piercing your lungs.

“How the fuck did you know that?” you question desperately, all vitriol lost to bewilderment.

“I heard you, shank. You weren’t exactly being quiet,” Gally mentions, his voice staying cold as ice while his heart burns at the memory of your betrayal.

“You’re fucking insane! Are you jealous of Minho?” you rant, feeling the distance between your words and your feelings grow larger with each passing remark.

“No, I’m not jealous!” Gally snaps, the lie almost burning his throat on its way to his lips, “I just didn’t sign up to fuck a girl that gets passed around to every guy in the Glade!” he yanks the door to his hut open, jabbing the air violently with the back of his hand, clearly motioning for you to leave.

“‘Passed around’?? I have sex with two guys, one of which is a massive prick,” you shoot an acidic glare into Gally’s steely blue eyes as you stomp towards his position at the open door, “and that counts as being ‘passed around’?”

“Well it does count as something that I don’t want to deal with; can you please just fucking leave?!” Gally snaps, his patience running thin, all positive emotions now buried under the burning hatred for you that simmers underneath his skin.

“NO!” you snap, crossing your arms and planting yourself firmly in place in front of the open door. If you two keep yelling like this in your underwear, eventually someone will hear and come over. But you can’t bring yourself to muster anything but apathy for that prospect.

“What do you mean no?!” Gally scoffs, releasing his hold on the door with his right hand and now assuming a defensive stance in front of you, his shoulders rolled back and chest puffed out.

“I mean; no,” you repeat, instinctively taking a step backwards. You are officially out of his hut, meaning you are standing in the grass wearing nothing but your bra and underwear. “I am so sick of all this back and forth, Gally. First I’m a slut, then I’m the girl you lost your virginity to, then you cry in front of me for whatever fucking reason, we stop talking, you invite me back, now I’m a slut again?? Your opinion on me flip flops like, every other day. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? What the fuck is this? Why are we even doing this at all??” you rant, slightly stumbling over your own feet as the Builder keeps advancing menacingly towards you.

“We did this because we got drunk and horny one night; you’re the one trying to put words in my mouth and make this something it’s not. And I’m sorry I don’t lie down and worship the ground you walk on! If that’s something you want, princess,” he spits the nickname at you like a slur, “then why don’t you just find Minho?” Your voices ring through the clear night like alarm bells and you both can hear footsteps approaching from afar.

“Gally you are so full of shit. I see the way you look at me,” you snarl and the Builder’s face goes white, “If you want to lie to your friends or yourself then go right ahead but you can’t lie to me!”

“Oh, and you aren’t obsessed with me too?” Gally retorts and now it’s your turn to be taken aback with shock, “‘Gally, you’re so smart and strong. Gally I’m glad I can do this for you’,” he mocks in a high-pitched voice.

“I’m not obsessed with you!” you lie, “If you’re actually stupid enough to believe shit I said when you were fucking me than you’re even dumber than you look! But don’t worry, it won’t happen again, because I never wanna-” you step gradually closer to him, your nostrils flaring and eyes glinting as you round out your raving with a pointed finger in his face. Your sentence is abruptly cut off by the bark of your leader’s unmistakably furious voice.

“Stop! What the hell is this about?” Alby demands, taking both you and Gally by surprise, as he rarely swears. You turn your barely-clothed bodies towards him and begin explaining your side of the conflict in blustering detail, your words climbing and clamoring over each other. Alby holds up a palm that sends a hush through the both of you.

“Alright, alright!” he yells to be heard over the raucous explanations you two are providing, “Y/N where are your clothes?” he asks sharply, carefully keeping his eyes focused on your face as you jab a finger in the direction of Gally’s hut. “Go get dressed, now. Gally stay right here,” he orders and you comply instantly, the hot blush in your cheeks dissipating slightly when you reach the hut’s door.

You dress quickly and exit the abode, awaiting your leader’s punishment.

“Gally, Y/N; get to bed, now,” Alby instructs, shoving the Builder’s shoulder in the direction of his hut, “And the rest of you,” he snarls, spinning to address the growing crowd of sniggering boys gathered around this altercation, “If I hear a word of this discussed or spread around tomorrow, you’ll be without dinner for a week!” 

The crowd disperses with a jolt, their leader’s uncharacteristic anger necessitating a quick escape. You steal one last look at Gally before turning to walk away. His face is hardened and angry, but his eyes are welled with tears. He stalks back to his hut and slams the door so loud it shakes the whole building. 

Day 47

“You guys must think I’m really stupid,” you confess shyly, keeping your eyes focused on the rug on the ground. Your friends sit around you in a semicircle. They had hung on to your every word as you clumsily recounted everything that happened between you and Gally in the last two months.

“You’re not stupid,” Gia reassures, placing her hand on your knee and rubbing gently.

“You can’t pick who you fall for, you know” the newest member of your girl group, Erica, pipes up earnestly.

“Yeah, but I can pick what to do about it,” you fidget with your hands and try to steady your tone, “Or what not to do about it,”

“I mean, he’s kind of obsessed with you Y/N,” Lireale responds and you feel your face flush uncontrollably.

“Yeah, I mean he’s always talking about you,” Ariana pipes up, and the rest of the group nods.

“Yeah but it’s more like complaining about me,” you counter unconvincingly.

“Still obsessed with you,” Lireale repeats, “I mean that’s gotta count for something,”

“So I should pursue him because he has an unhealthy attachment to me?” you ask, your forehead wrinkling in confusion. 

“No, you should pursue him because you like him. You tried to distract yourself with Minho and that was a flaming disaster. There’s no other way out of this than through it; you’ve gotta tell him how you feel,” Erica rattles off confidently. The rest of the group turns to face her with stunned expressions that turn into concurring nods in a matter of seconds.

No other way out than through it.

Day 48

The water rushes from the crudely-constructed spigot at a nearly boiling temperature. Gally drops his towel and enters the warm stream, feeling his tense muscles relax under the constant water pressure. He goes through the routine of cleaning himself from head to toe, but when he finishes, he doesn’t move. He just lets the water fall as he attempts to unravel the knots that have formed in his mind over these past few days.

He’s pretty sure that he’s in love with you. 

He’s tried to come up with other explanations for his attraction to you and his want to see you, despite how much you hurt him by getting with Minho and how angry you made him for arguing with him the other night. But there isn’t another one at this point. He’s drawn to you in a way he’s never been to another person. Your laugh, your smile, your sarcastic insults, your nagging jabs, your body, all of it acts as a magnetic pulse that just keeps pulling him back to you, no matter how much he digs his heels in and refuses to budge; he always pulls back towards you.

Day 49

It might not have been the best idea to come clean to Alby. Gally had felt uncomfortable at his own vulnerability the whole time, though he found that once he started talking about you, he couldn’t stop. The Leader had been pleasantly surprised at the Builder’s willingness to open up, and listened intently, nodding along wordlessly through the whole thing.

“What do you think I should do?,” Gally mutters sheepishly once he finishes his tale.

“What do you think you should do?” Alby repeats with a wan expression on his face. 

“I don’t know…I feel like I’m going crazy,” the Builder replies, dropping his head in exasperation.

“I’ve been told love can feel like that,” the Leader responds evenly. Gallys head snaps up to meet his eye contact at the particularly terrifying word.

“I’m not in love with her,” the Builder snaps defensively. He’s not sure he means it, but he still didn’t want to hear someone else tell him that.

Alby shows his palms in an act of surrender. “All I’m saying is that you’ve always been very passionate about her. At first it was with hatred, now it’s with the opposite. There’s a very thin line between love and hate and you and Y/N have been walking that line since the day you met. I think it’s only natural that something like this would develop,” the Leader recites matter-of-factly. Gally’s mind begins replaying all of his memories of you in a new light and he realizes with horror that his leader is right.

Whether with hatred or affection, Gally has never felt more strongly about anyone else.

“So…I should tell her?” he asks nervously, feeling that he already knows what Alby’s answer will be.

“I don’t think you could go on if you didn’t,” the Leader states bluntly. “And that kind of passion doesn’t come around very often. I think if anyone feels like that about another person, it’s worth holding on tight to,”

Day 50

“Can we talk?” Gally asks sheepishly, keeping his blue eyes focused on yours instead of the slightly terrified looks on Clint and Jeff’s faces. 

You take in his nervous frame in the doorway of the medhut, too intrigued to say no. You set down the log book and move to leave without consulting your coworkers.

“Sure,” you say with a nod, trying to arrange your features into a neutral expression.

The walk from the med-hut’s doors to the site of your first rendezvous with Gally occurs in abject silence. Two sets of work boots navigate the woodland path as easily as the breathing two sets of lungs perform, unperforated by words.

Gally reaches the clearing he was aiming for and stands with his back towards you, fidgeting with his hands as his heart rate increases. You cock your head to the side slightly, waiting patiently for his clumsy monologue to begin. 

“Y/N, I-,” he starts, and turns to face you, not taking his eyes off of his rapidly moving fingers, “I’m only gonna say this once and then you can think whatever you want about it and-and if it doesn’t go well then…” he trails off, a slight quiver warbling his voice.

“I don’t think you need to say anything,” you interject boldly, and the Builder’s eyes meet yours.

“You…don’t? What about-” he goes to ask about the fiery argument that occurred the last time you two were in each other’s presence.

“Well, I thought about it, and I think actions speak louder than words,” you explain evenly, stepping closer to him, “Your pupils are huge,” you remark with a chuckle and take his hand in yours, “your hands are…very sweaty,” you continue with a twinge of disgust and Gally’s face turns a deep shade of pink, “And,” you lean forward slightly, bringing your ear to his chest, “your heart is beating ridiculously fast,” you turn his hand palm out and place it on your own chest, “Mine is too by the way,” Gally smiles warmly and you return the gesture.

“So…you don’t think we need to talk about anything that happened?” Gally responds, his mouth dry as a deep yearning makes a home in his chest.

“Oh we definitely do,” you respond slyly, “I just don’t think you need to tell me how you feel about me…” you lean in closer, warmly placing your arms around his broad shoulders, “...because I already know,” 

Your lips brush his as you form those words and at your sentence’s conclusion, Gally pulls you in desperately, his lips connecting to yours with a proverbial smattering of sparks. He keeps his hands planted firmly on your waist, not wanting to let go for anything. The kiss is drawn out and passionate, with two sets of tongues dancing, not fighting for dominance. There’s no expectation for sex or bracing for argumentative comments.

You both just let it be what it is.

When you both finally pull away from the kiss, a blissful sigh escapes from your lips and Gally rests his forehead on yours.

“I don’t think you need to tell me how you feel either,” he adds with a smirk.

-Epilogue-

“That’s the gardens, where the Trackhoes plant all our food,” Newt points out, a lanky finger pointed in the direction of said Trackhoes, who sweat profusely under the midday sun, “That’s the main meeting hall and that,” he continues, pivoting his body to the side and pointing at a thatched-roof building, “is the Med-Hut. If you get sliced, tripped or poisoned, that’s where you’re going to want to go,”

The Greenie commits Newt’s words to memory, but his eyes are soon distracted by another sight; a girl, holding the door to the building open as several boys file past her with large boxes of supplies from The Box in their arms.

“Who’s that?” the Greenie asks, his gaze following your every movement. Newt chortles darkly, drinking in the newcomer's dopey appearance and relishing in the delight of the information he’s about to reveal.

“That is Y/N. She was just made Keeper of the Medjacks a few weeks ago. I wouldn’t stare though,” he grins.

“Why?” the boy asks with his eyes still transfixed. As if on cue, a gruff boy with a toolbelt set around his waist walks into the Greenie’s eyeline, delivering a swift peck to your cheek.

“That’s why,” Newt smiles, clapping a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “See that, is Gally. Keeper of the Builders, a nasty piece of work and Y/N’s boyfriend. If he ever catches you staring at her like that, you had better run or grab the nearest weapon,” the second-in-command advises, watching the Greenie’s face blush and his eyes dart quickly away.

You take your boyfriend’s hand and stroll leisurely towards the Box to pick up the next round of supplies.

“So how much of a fight do you think that new Greenie’s gonna put up tonight?” Gally asks with a mischievous smile, referencing his habit of challenging each new Glader to a fight on their first bonfire night. He only extends this invitation to the male Greenies, (obviously), so he’s been itching for new competition for two months.

“Oh god, go easy on him, baby,” you whine playfully, rolling your eyes.

“Why do you care about that shank?” he asks. 

If he hadn’t been reassured of your complete devotion to him so often, he might’ve had half a mind to be jealous. But the entire Glade is resolutely aware that you only have eyes for him. They’re also aware that Gally has hands for anyone, (besides himself), who dares to have eyes for you.

“I don’t,” you retort sharply, “It’s just that if you beat him to a pulp, I will be the one who has to put said pulp back together,” Gally laughs.

“You could just get Clint or Jeff to do it. Besides, there are worse things to happen at bonfire night, princess,” he smiles warmly, invoking his favorite pet name for you.

“Yeah, like stoking the fire with your elixir, huh?” you ask sarcastically, keeping your facial expression vague.

“Yes, that would definitely be worse,” he replies, his face going slightly pale as realization dawns, “You’re not actually gonna do that again, right?”

“I don’t know…the flames were really pretty…” you start with a smile.

“...Y/N, please, no,” your boyfriend pleads exasperatedly.

“...and Chuck said it looks really cool…you know I was too drunk to notice it last time…” you continue, reveling in your ability to raise Gally’s blood pressure with a joke.

“Yeah and I got burned! I still have scars on my arms,” he snaps, humor still coloring his outburst.

“I know,” you concede roguishly, “But come on, it’s not all bad. It got you this,” you reason, lifting your intertwined hands.

“That’s true, but once is enough,” he smiles, flaring his eyebrows upwards in shock, “Come on, Y/N, seriously don’t do that,” he replies, his tone settling back into sincerity. “No promises, Gally. I’m a bit of a loose cannon, so I’ve been told,” you jest, leaning in to kiss him gently on the cheek, “Just don’t stand so close this time,” you whisper in his ear.

<--------------->

Tag List: @gallyismylittlesilly @my-little-universes @cthood @katie-tibo @sarahstar11 @cxlt-lamb @hellokitty811 @alia0102 @honethatty12 @randallkirkland @strangunddurm @goldenfaced @coaquinbae @oak05

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - FIX YOU

A/N: Guys, it's happening! It's here! Old man Logan story for you! I don't know if you'll like it. This is what I always imagined after seeing "Logan" movie. I am a sucker for happy endings, I guess. Let me know what you think. I tried my best.

Pairing: Old man Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff, nudity, extremely light smut

Words: 6800+

Important notes: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine | Inaccurate information from the movie. I just wanted to write my own thing, so just be aware of that.

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - FIX YOU (OLD MAN LOGAN) 

Shitty year. Shitty life. The only thing that eased the pain and his thoughts was the booze. He was able to get drunk. Fucking finally. No one stopped him from the liquid poison. Why would they? No one was alive. Everyone was dead, under the daisies. Sniffing them with their skeletons. All thanks to Charles. Now, that old senile fuck wouldn’t die no matter what. Fucking telepath. 

Logan threw another empty bottle on the dusty ground, snarling as he limped back to the driver’s seat of the limo. His phone had been ringing for some time now. It meant another job for him. He took a minute to collect himself to look at the notification. He hoped to call it a day. That dream died sooner than his appetite for alcohol.

One passenger, long ass drive around El Paso. Fucking rich people that don’t know what to do with their money, he thought. Last night, he drove a bunch of drunk chicks from a bachelorette party, showing him their tits. At least some fun, nice round things to look at. Tonight, it wouldn’t be as entertaining.

Touching the screen, he accepted the offer and put the phone into a holder. His eyes found another empty bottle on the passenger’s seat. Logan threw it out the window. He drove off the side road and headed to pick up the next customer. He hoped it would be someone calm. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with drunks and skanks. 

God he wished the day would end soon -  well, night. He was tired, hungry and was already in need of booze to ease his mind and pain. This life sucked. Ever since Charles managed to kill everyone over a year ago, living in this world has been a nightmare. Instinctively, he patted the spot on his jacket where he carried an adamantium bullet. Logan kept it with him, to end his life once he felt like it wasn’t worth living anymore. 

When he came to the pick-up spot, he frowned. There was one person, as expected. He pictured a guy standing there, like the one he drove to a hotel a week ago. This was a woman. She was dressed in all black, with a big black hat and massive sunglasses. Snobby girl using daddy’s money, he thought. Besides, who the fuck wears sunglasses in the evening?

Logan was ready to leave the limo and open the door for her. However, the woman was faster. She got inside on her own. At least she was capable of doing that. 

He drove away, heading to… wait, where were they headed? He grabbed his phone to look at the final destination. There was none. He noticed a note: Please drive around the city. Fuck, he wasn’t going to do that. He wanted to go back home. 

Logan rolled down the partition, mouth open to ask the question. But he was met with the woman sitting right behind him as if she was waiting for him to address her. Something inside told him to be careful. Goose bumps ran through his devastated body. 

“Where to, miss?” was all he asked. 

Her head turned to the side. Logan noticed the shape of her lips covered in crimson-red lipstick. To him, they reminded him of someone. His mind went instantly back to the days when everyone was alive. There was one person he missed the most. She used to wear a colour like that on her lips. God, he hated thinking about her. It was too painful.

“Just keep driving,” the woman replied. 

That voice. Holy fuck, how sweet and familiar it was. The booze was playing tricks on him, he was sure of it. No, she was dead. Everyone was dead. Charles killed almost all X-men with his seizure-inducted psychic attack. 

He took a deep breath to calm down. When a familiar scent hit his nostrils, he squinted at the woman. What the fuck was this? This was just some mind game of his brain. “That’s not how things work, miss.” 

She chuckled and took off her sunglasses. When her eyes met his, Logan jumped on the brakes and the limo halted abruptly. One hand rested on the steering wheel while the rest of his body turned around to look better into her face. What the fuck was happening?

“Hey, Logan,” the woman said his name. It sounded like the most beautiful melody that hit his ears.

“Y/N?” he whispered her name. 

The cars behind them started to honk aggressively. The limo was in their way, slowing the traffic down. It wasn’t wise to stand in the middle of the street. Logan cursed and started to drive again, his eyes watching Y/N through the rear-view mirror like a hawk. He feared that one blink later she’d be gone. 

He drove them to a silent street, where he knew they’d be alone, without anyone snooping around. The shock was replaced by anger and betrayal. How the fuck was she alive after everything that happened? 

Logan parked the car, his body turned back to face her. She should be glad there was the fucking partition separating them. His emotions were running wild. He’d be able to grab her by the neck and choke the truth out of her. “Fucking sing, right now woman. How the fuck are you alive?” 

“You sure this is safe?” she pointed at the outside. 

“Fuck, talk!” he raised his voice at her. “You’re supposed to be dead. How the fuck are you alive? Explain yourself before I do something I’ll regret for the rest of my miserable life.” Logan was fuming. It was like a wicked mind game. 

“I don’t know.”

He laughed. What a pathetic reply. “I should believe that?” 

Huffing, she moved to the door and stepped out of the limo. Logan got out a second later, limping towards her as fast as he could. With a painful grunt, he took the claws out of his right hand and grabbed her by the top of her long jacket. He pressed her against the vehicle. 

Y/N’s eyes locked with his. There wasn’t a hint of fear inside her. She remained calm. She expected this reaction, the distrust. Anyone would react this way. 

Her breathing was slow, even. “I can explain everything.” 

“You have one fucking minute,” he snarled.

“I’m gonna need more than that,” she said. 

He cursed under his nose. Logan let her go and stepped back to breathe. He was spiralling. Was this happening? This was a hallucination, he was sure of it. None of it was real. “Fuck, fuck! I mourned you. You’re supposed to be fucking dead like the rest of them!” He coughed.

It was painful to see him like this. One year could do a lot of damage - physical and mental. The man she once knew was broken and bruised. Carefully, her hand lifted to his face. She pressed the palm on his grey-brown beard-covered cheek. “Logan,” she said his name. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened.” 

“Shut up.” 

“So many lost, dead because of what Charles’s power did,” she continued. “I’m really sorry about this.”

As she was about to retract her hand, he grabbed her with his left one and pressed his lips on top of it. He inhaled her scent, felt the soft skin with his lips. Logan needed to be sure she was real and not just a figment of his imagination. “How?” he grunted. “How is this possible? I mourned you, Y/N,” he repeated.

She nodded, understanding. “There is a lot to discuss,” she said. “We need to go somewhere where we can talk. That’s why I wanted you to drive around. Standing here, where anyone can see us is dangerous.” 

Logan let her go. He huffed and wiped his face with a hand. The claws on the right hand were long gone. “Get in the car,” he ordered. “I know a place.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. Y/N sat on the passenger’s seat and Logan drove them away. Both of them made sure there weren’t any suspicious vehicles following them. El Paso was a big city, lightened up with many lights like Vegas. The city woke up for the night as the temperatures got acceptable to humans. 

“Is anyone else alive?” Logan asked after a while. His voice got softer. He was able to process the initial shock.

“No,” she shook her head. “Everyone’s dead. I should have been dead too.” 

“How come you are not?” 

She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. “I think my mutation saved me. It got enhanced with Charles’s psychic attack, or what the hell that was. My mutation was always a protective one. I believe it helped me survive and regenerate. As if that whole situation unlocked something new inside me.” 

“Shit,” he gasped. “Is that even possible?”

She shrugged. “I recall something that Charles taught back at the school. High-stress situations can unlock mutant powers. Usually, it happens to teens and children. But, it’s not rare for mutant adults to have their mutation enhanced by stress, which can potentially bring out more powers.” 

Y/N reached into her boot and took out a pocket knife. As Logan stopped the limo at the red light, she showed him her forearm. “Look.” With one precise move, she cut her skin. Some blood dripped down her arm and onto her clothes. Next, it was sealed with a white light. The skin was nice and clean as if she never cut herself. 

Shit, she could regenerate now. It made sense she survived. “Damn. That didn’t happen before,” Logan commented. He thought back to the days when they were at the mutant school. She could get hurt like anyone else. Bleed like any mortal. “Just… tell me why did you decide to show up now? Why not when you woke up after that incident?” 

Logan drove them to the parking lot inside a building. It was big enough for the limo to fit through the driveway. Once he parked on the second level, he turned the gas off. 

“I didn’t know where you were or who was left alive,” she said. 

“A year, Y/N,” he glared at her. Logan’s eyes were red. He had bags under them, signalling the lack of sleep, the tiredness. “What the hell were you doing during that time?” 

The silence inside the car got heavy. This was a question she knew he’d ask. It was time to tell him everything that happened. 

Y/N turned her body to face him. Her eyes found his shaky hands. “I remember… the pain. A lot of it. My head was about to explode. There was a ringing sound in my ears. The ground was shaking. I could see our friends, the students, on the ground, yelling and gasping for air.

Then it was followed by darkness. When I woke up, I was in a morgue. There were so many of us, lying on cold tables. I was the only one alive. They were all dead.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “I went through all the tables, saw all the dead faces of our friends and family.” 

Her voice broke. It was too painful to talk about what she went through when she woke up. How fast the world changed. Her hands trembled. “I went through all bodies,” she sobbed. “I saw all the lifeless faces. I cried my eyes out and mourned them. In the end, I realised two people were missing - you and Charles.” 

Logan’s expression softened. He was consumed by his anger and confusion. She came back to his life when he thought she was dead. He should consider it a blessing. A light came back into his dark life. Now, he learnt that her second chance at life was a complete disaster. Pain and death. 

“It took me some time to start again, trust the people around me. Afterwards, I started to look for you. I knew, deep inside, that you were alive somewhere. I made a plan, created a safe place for us once I’d find you. It took me half a year to get an intel that you were alive, here in El Paso.” 

Logan’s hand reached her face and wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks. After all this time, he still had a soft spot for her. He always did. 

“It wasn’t easy to get here,” she continued. “Luckily, I had people from the past who owed me a couple of favours. I collected information about you. It was easy to discover you got Charles with you. I got intel about his state or how you’ve been trying to get meds for him. When possible, I’d arrange for extra medication for him.”

Logan sighed. “That was you?” 

She nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t always possible. I tried my best to help you while I prepared for the whole plan I made.” 

He huffed. “Shit, I appreciate it, darlin’.” 

Y/N smiled at him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I’m sorry I couldn’t…” 

“That’s okay-”

She grabbed his hand. Her fingers trailed the scars on it. They hid under the sleeves of his black jacket. “Do you… Do you know what’s happening to you?” she had to ask. “I can see you’ve changed, Logan.” 

“I’m an old man now,” he said. “I’m in constant pain, healing slowly but not fully. It’s clear I finally have my expiration date. I’ve been alive for almost 200 years. I’ve been through a lot of shit, good and bad.” 

“So,” she cleared her throat. “You feel like it’s your time to go?”

“I didn’t have a reason to live,” Logan admitted. He couldn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on the front window, watching the outside. “The X-men dead, no school, no mutants. I ended up taking care of Charles, who doesn’t want to die,” he grunted, frustrated. He smashed his hands against the steering wheel. 

Logan left the car abruptly. He needed to breathe, to move around and calm down. Charles once gave him a second chance at life. He welcomed him into the mutant school. Now, Logan wanted him to finally die. It was too much responsibility. And he was exhausted.

Y/N appeared before him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Logan,” she whispered his name. Her mouth opened to say some reassuring words when he pressed her against the limo. His big hands grabbed her by her face and pressed his lips to hers. 

It’s been a year since he last kissed her. She used to be his anchor, the love of his life. It got destroyed when everyone died - when he thought she died. And now, being here with her a year later, the need was back. Their lips moved in sync in a hungry kiss filled with sorrow. His tongue demanded entrance for further exploration. 

Y/N grabbed him by the white button-up. She missed his kisses, his touch. However, it felt different. The time apart made it feel a bit foreign and sad. Her heart wanted to explode.

Logan pushed away, breathing heavily. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“It’s okay,” Y/N quickly found his shoulders. “It’s been a fucked up year.” 

He pulled her into his arms, hiding her in a tight embrace. “With you here, back in my life, it changes everything,” he admitted. 

There was a short silence before Y/N told him something he didn’t know. “I know what’s happening to you, Logan.” 

They looked at each other. His brow lifted. “What?” His arms remained on her waist.

“It’s the adamantium,” she said. “It’s poisoning you, slowing down your healing factor and killing you.” 

“How do you know?”

She told him the story of how her trusted friend from the past was able to get to Logan’s blood sample from the time when he agreed to get the adamantium. They ran some tests and even got their hands on some of his bloody clothes from a few months back when he got shot by some men in a parking lot.

“With his help, we were able to do a full analysis and figure out that the adamantium would attack your cells more with time. It’s a toxic substance released from the metal that is killing you from the inside. It’s a whole complex situation. But,” she sighed, “he was able to figure it all out.” 

He huffed. “Well, there you go, darlin’. My time is running out. Fast.”

“What if…” she whispered. “What if there was a way to heal you? Would you want that?” 

This time, they parted away to have a better look at each other. “That’s a difficult one, Y/N. I know things won’t be the same as they were a year ago.”

The sadness appeared in her eyes and he noticed. “Oh…”

“I know things are so fucked up. No more mutants are being born. If there are any left, which I highly doubt, they are all hiding.” 

“You,” she started. “You wouldn’t want me back?” Y/N had to ask. She needed to know to move on. After everything, her heart belonged to him. 

Logan closed his eyes and thought about his reply. “I will want you until the day I die. And that’s the thing. My days are coming to an end. Look what happened to me. I’m an old fuck, who could be your fucking grandfather now.” 

“I still love you,” she said looking away. “I don’t care about any of it. You are my Logan. The one who protected me, helped me grow and made me a better person. Fuck, there was always a gigantic age gap between us. Do you think, just because you have grey hair and scars, will make me love you less?” 

Logan shook his head in disbelief. “I always knew you were too good for me. Even now, you’ve been helping me while I had no idea you were alive. Shit. Such an angel in disguise.” 

Y/N swallowed hard. A lump formed in her throat. “I have an antidote for you,” she blurted out. “If you want it. If you want a better life… with me.” She knew damn well how selfish and stupid it sounded. 

“Antidote?” 

She nodded. “I know, it’s crazy. I know you have no reason to trust me after being separated for a year, while you believed I was dead.” Her hands started to shake. The desperation was evident. She wanted him, needed him back in her life. “It’s up to you, Logan. I have it. If you want it.” 

His phone started to ring. Logan’s eyes moved to the car, seeing the phone still in the holder vibrating. It had to be Caliban. “Shit, I need to head back home.” 

Y/N’s heart dropped. Was this the end of it all? He didn’t want the antidote. He didn’t want her or another chance at life. “I understand.” 

Logan reached for her hand. “You are coming with me, darlin’. We are not done with this conversation. I am not fucking done with you.” He brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. “Get in the car.” 

“Logan-”

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re coming with me. Don’t you dare jump to conclusions, Y/N. We have a lot to discuss. And believe me, I’m not fucking letting you go.” 

A warm smile appeared on her face. “Okay.”

“I just fucking hope you don’t have to leave now.”

“No,” she smiled at him. “I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll keep you safe, I swear on my life. I’ll get you out of here. Like I said, I already have a plan.” 

Logan helped her get inside the vehicle. He drove them out of El Paso to a place he now called home. It wasn’t much, but it was a place where they could hide and survive. It was located near the US/Mexican borders, in the middle of a dusty nowhere. 

Y/N watched his face the whole drive. She could see how he squinted, frowned out of nowhere. The smile that was on his face turned into a painful scowl. He was in pain. It was a moment like this when she wished she could heal other people with a simple touch. That’s not how her mutation worked. 

When they arrived at an old abandoned smelting plant, the air was warm. Dust and dry land hit her nostrils once she got out of the limo. 

“One more thing,” Logan said and coughed. “We have another mutant here. His name is Caliban.” 

She frowned at him. Everyone knew Caliban. “If I were you, I’d kill him for what he had done in the past. Fucker used to help Transigen for a long time, tracking mutants for them. You were too kind to take him in.”

Logan huffed. He reached his hand towards her. She approached him, taking his hand into his. He got her inside the rusty old building. Together, they walked into a section that could be called ‘the kitchen’. 

Y/N’s eyes wandered around, seeing all the empty bottles of alcohol. Old long rags hung from the walls. It was like a workroom. The smell of steel and ore. At least this was a safe place where they could sleep and eat. 

“Logan?” Y/N turned to the sound to meet Caliban. She noticed how his eyes widened when they landed on her. “Shit, you are alive.” 

“So are you,” she glared at him. 

He took a sniff, frowning. “If I had known you’re alive, I’d have smelt you. I would have known about your presence. Something is different about you. I can’t smell the mutation on you.” 

“Maybe it’s your own mutation weakening,” she growled at him. 

“Mind your own fucking business,” Logan glared at Caliban. 

“Don’t you find it odd that she’s alive?” he raised his voice, finger pointing at the woman. “How is that fucking possible? How come she doesn’t smell like one of us?” 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Caliban. Also, I don’t care if you don’t trust me, because I certainly don’t trust you.” 

Logan’s lips turned into a smirk. He took off his black jacket and threw it on the wooden table. He rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up. There were scars over his forearms, even old bullet wounds that didn’t properly heal. He could feel her eyes on them. 

“Come on, darlin’. I’ll take you to see Charles.” 

Y/N made a face while looking at the albino mutant. With Logan, they left the kitchen area and headed to the back door. He took her into a different section of the lot, through a crooked door. The inside of the space was dark until Logan turned on a small light. 

A movement came out of an old bed. “Who’s there?” Charles’s voice echoed around. 

“I brought you, someone,” said Logan. “Someone you know very well. It might lift your spirits.” 

Y/N had to smile when she heard Logan’s softer, calmer voice. Her hand gently brushed against his lower back when she walked closer to the old man. Her legs stopped at the edge of the bed where she saw a very old Charles Xavier with white longer hair and a stubble. 

“Professor,” her voice was a mere whisper. 

His eyes found her, eyeing her face and hair to the clothes and hands. He lost his breath for a moment. As if a ghost was standing in front of him. “Y/N?” he gasped. “Is that you?” 

She nodded, smiling. “Yeah, Professor. It’s me.” 

“How?”

Her lips opened, ready to tell him to read her mind. She immediately halted. Y/N knew his powers were not what they used to be. “My mutation saved me,” she gave him the simplest answer. “It evolved, like you taught us back at the school.” 

Professor’s eyes moved from her to the man standing in the back. “You did at least something right,” he said to Logan. “You became such a disappointment. At least this-” 

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “Professor,” she scolded him. She never imagined these words escaping Professor’s lips. 

She turned to Logan. He had a plastic case in his hands. Then he handed two pills to Charles. “Take them, now,” he said gruffly. “Come on.”

Charles did as told, swallowing the pills and sticking out his tongue at Logan like a child. 

“We’ll let you rest,” Y/N said, smiling weakly at the old man. “I’ll see you again tomorrow.” 

“You are staying?” he asked. He received a simple nod from her and it made him smile. 

Logan brought her to a room with one bed. There were several empty bottles of liquor, cigar butts and other shit. It was spacious, smelled like alcohol, cigars and Logan. This was all he had. At least some privacy, a place to sleep. Those days of living in luxury were long gone. 

He turned on the light. It was yellow, illuminating the place enough for them to see. “You can take the bed,” he said, breaking her thoughtfulness. 

Y/N glared at them. “And where will you sleep?” 

He opened and closed his mouth. There were many options, including the damn limo. But he wished to sleep next to her like they used to before as a couple. Logan huffed. 

“You know, you look very handsome in those formal clothes,” she said. “Sexy, dare I say.” 

“Those were the days when I was,” he scoffed. “Now, I’m basically a fossil.” 

Y/N slowly took off her long jacket. She put her hand into her pocket, feeling the glass vial. Her hand let loose and draped the piece of clothing over a chair - or something that looked like it. The hat was long forgotten in the back seats of the limo. Then, she approached him, carefully resting her hands on his chest. When he didn’t move, she gently unbuttoned the white shirt for him. 

“Y/N,” he sighed her name. 

“Will you let me do this?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet. “Will you let me show you, that in my eyes you are still the handsome man I still love?” 

She helped him take off the button-up and let it fall on the dirty ground. “Fuck,” his breath hitched. “Darlin’.” 

Her hands moved up, gently stroking the skin on his neck until she reached his bearded face. “The beard suits you. Miss the mutton chops, though,” the left side of her lips curled up. 

Logan couldn’t resist. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. One, two and then his tongue asked permission to enter to which she obliged. His big hands slid down her back to her ass, taking a handful of it. “I missed you,” he admitted between the kisses. 

“Missed you too,” she nodded. When their lips disconnected, she grabbed him by the white tank top he wore and dragged it out of his pants. Y/N helped him get rid of it. She could sense the hesitation from him. 

Once it was off, her hands gently stroked his hard chest. Her fingers delicately brushed all the scars that littered his still muscular body. The regeneration was barely working. There was a day-old wound. Someone fucking shot him a day ago and the wasn’t there to protect him. Without thinking, Y/N pressed her lips on his left pectoral, right above his nipple and a scar he had there. 

“Why are you doing this?”

Her hands slipped to the belt of his pants. “To show you that I love you the way you are,” she admitted. “That I want you no matter what.” 

Logan stopped her by grabbing her wrists and pressing them back to his chest. He didn’t let her go. “I don’t deserve you.” 

“I…” she closed her eyes and pressed her ear against his beating heart. The sound soothed her. It was a sign he was here and alive. “I want to show you, that I do want you whether you are old or young. I want you to know, that even if you don’t want the antidote, I’m here with you until…” her voice broke. The thought of him dying was terrifying. 

“The antidote,” he sighed. Honestly, he forgot about it. The conversation before was short.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it…”

Logan helped her sit on the bed. Their knees touched. His big hands held her smaller ones. He remained close to her. “I need you to tell me more about it. All I know is that you have it and it has to do something with the adamantium poisoning my body.” 

“All I know is this: The antidote will stop the poisoning and stop the dying process. A friend of mine was able to make a new element that successfully fought the molecules of the adamantium. Many outcomes may happen once you take the antidote. There is only a 1% chance of side effects. Hell, even less than that.” 

“What are some of the outcomes?” he asked. 

“Either it’ll only cure you and stop the ageing and dying process. Or the regenerating factor will kick in and heal the scars and wounds littering your body,” she named a few. 

Logan shook his head. “So, no matter what, I’ll be stuck in this old body.” He winced when a wave of pain hit his body. His hand reached for the first bottle he found, drinking the alcohol like a lemonade. 

“Sexy old body,” she grinned at him. “Would it matter?” she raised her brows. “You’ll be strong again. No more pain. No more booze as painkillers.” Y/N reached for the bottle and took it away from his hands. “I’m here, with you, Logan. You don’t have to do this alone.” 

The next words he said were something he’d never imagined he would say to anyone. “I’m scared, Y/N. There is this fear inside of me that life will suck for another two hundred years. And now, here, with you, I fear that I’m gonna lose you again. It was painful the first time. I’m not gonna be able to do it again.” 

Carefully, she climbed onto his lap. He put her hands on her waist while Y/N buried her fingers into his hair. “That’s how I feel now. I feel I’m going to lose you just when I was able to get to you.” She then brushed the tired skin under his eyes with a thumb. “I don’t want to lose you, but I will if you won’t take the antidote. Fuck, I want to be so selfish and convince you to take it. However, the choice is yours.” 

Hot tears spilt from her eyes. The choked sobs made Logan clench his heart. He knew his girl would never force him even when she wanted to. She was never selfish. It was his choice. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent. Damn, she smelled better than he remembered. 

“I want to sleep on that,” he said. “I’m so fucking tired. I should take a shower.” 

She tilted her head and smiled suggestively at him. “How about we take it together?” she asked, voice innocent and sweet. 

“Hm, you really wanna get inside my pants,” he laughed which made him cough. 

Y/N glared at him. “You make me look like a perv,” she said. 

“Who was undressing me minutes ago?”

“Who let me and didn’t stop me at the beginning?” she asked back. 

Logan patted her ass cheeks. “Come on, darlin’. I’ll show you the hole I shower in. At least we’ll save some water.” 

They got off the bed. First, Logan walked to an old wardrobe where he took out a simple t-shirt and some boxers he rarely used. He handed them to Y/N. “Something to wear afterwards,” he said. 

Like Logan said, it was a hole where he usually showered. It was big enough for two, even three people at the same time. It had hot and cold water. He had a soap and a shower gel. Hell, he had a spare towel, a smaller one, for Y/N. 

He leaned against a washbasin when his eyes locked on Y/N’s body. He watched her like a hawk as she undressed from her all-black attire. Over a year had passed since he saw her like this - exposed to his hungry eyes. She was right there, showing him her gorgeous body. No shame, no need to cover herself up. Only a gentle smile tugged at her lips. 

Y/N called him in. She put her body under the warm stream of water. This time it was her turn to watch him undress from the pants. And, like before, he didn’t wear any underwear. Her eyes were met with his semi-hard member. 

More scars littered his thick thighs. Mostly slashes from knives. And yet, he was still beautiful. A sexy man who had her heart for a very long time. 

His lips pressed into the back of her neck once he stepped inside the shower. His strong arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her back to his chest. 

Logan’s hands caressed her body. He felt every curve, exploring her as if it was for the first time. Her body was soft and warm. When one of the hands brushed up through her navel to the left breast, he squeezed it and then moved up and wrapped it around her neck. “So pretty, all mine.” 

They couldn’t resist each other. Logan had her pressed against a cold wall in no time, slowly filling her up with his cock. He enjoyed every push, every clench. He muttered sweet nothings into her ear as she moaned his name. Slow, sexy and filled with love. No, he wasn't fucking her like in the past - hard, rough. This was lovemaking. Emotions played the main role here. 

After the shower, and a long soft make-out session, they returned to the old bed. Logan put her body over his. Like this, they could sleep on the bed until the very morning. Or at least Y/N did. 

Logan kept thinking most of the night about the person in his arms. Some higher force brought them back together. In the past, he lost everyone he loved. When Y/N came into his life, he hesitated to let her in. That woman swallowed his heart and made him feel things he never knew were possible. When he lost her again, and the rest of his X-men family, he was ready to end it all and die. Not anymore.

“Baby?” 

This was the first time Logan used this pet name since reuniting. Y/N’s eyes opened immediately, her head tilting up at Logan. Was something happening? “Everything okay?” she asked. 

Logan brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were small, tired. But they sparkled when he looked closer. “I’ll take the antidote.”

“Really?” 

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I have you now. I have something worth living. I thought about your survival and your mutation. Shit, you can heal now, Y/N. It’s giving me hope that I’ll be able to spend many more years with you.” 

Y/N climbed up his body to press her lips onto his. It was a sweet, short peck. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to force you or anything. This is purely your choice.” 

He grabbed her face into his hands, staring into her eyes. “I love you,” he said. “Let’s do this now.” 

“Oh, okay!”

While she went into her jacket to get the antidote and an injection, Logan sat up and cracked his fingers. His hands were shaking. A painful groan escaped his throat when he felt another wave of pain. He longed to take a bottle that called his name and drink it in one go. 

Logan’s red, tired eyes rather moved to the sweet ass of his woman. The view was nice, distracting. A smile formed behind his thick beard as he memorised it. 

Y/N got back to the bed and prepared the blue liquid. “One more thing,” she sighed. “We don’t know whether the healing process will be painful or not. I’ll be with you the entire time.” 

“I’ll manage. I’ve been through a lot of shit. It’s not gonna be painful as the damn application of adamantium into my bones. Or the feeling when I thought I lost you.” He stretched his left arm, showing her the big vein popping out. 

She took a deep breath through her nose and lowered the needle to his skin until it penetrated it. She injected the antidote into the vein and took the needle out. The tiny wound instantly closed. 

Logan’s breathing sped up. He frowned, gasped for air and grunted. He was in a lot of pain. The effect started fast. Y/N dropped the empty injection on the ground. She jumped up, grabbing Logan by his wide shoulders. “Breathe,” she told him. His body was hot, sweating. “Logan, breathe.” 

A scream erupted from his throat. His fists clenched, eyes closed shut. It was evident the pain was unbearable. The roaring brought Caliban into his room. His mutant eyes wide as he watched Logan rolling on the bed in excruciating pain. 

“What the fuck have you done to him?” he shouted at Y/N. 

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. “Wait!” she yelled at Caliban, raising a hand not to intervene. 

That’s when she noticed that every wound, every ugly scar started to disappear, leaving the skin nice and smooth. It was working. She felt some relief inside her soul. 

Logan’s chest was heaving. Grunts and snarls came out of his mouth. Luckily, the shouting was done. He was calming down. All those voices and pain turned into heavy breathing. 

“Logan?” Y/N appeared above him. She scanned his face and moved downwards his body to his rising and falling chest. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did it work?” 

Caliban appeared above him. “What the hell? How is this possible?” 

“Yes, it did,” Y/N smiled. 

Logan’s body healed. Every wound, scar or pain he felt minutes ago was gone. Even his eyes looked brighter. The redness was gone as well as the dark bags under them. 

He lifted his body from the bed and found Y/N’s face. Both hands pressed to her cheeks and then moved down her neck. “Fuck, you look so damn beautiful. I can fucking see. My vision was fucked. I had to wear reading glasses.” 

“Hey,” Caliban reminded them he was present in the room. “What have you done to him?” 

“I cured him,” she said. 

“How’s that possible?”

“I have my ways,” she replied, eyes never leaving Logan’s face. A smile played on her lips. She couldn’t stop staring into his pretty face. Well, he was handsome even before she gave him the antidote. “How do you feel?” 

Logan pressed a kiss to her lips, hugging her body as he pulled her into his lap. He was never fond of PDA, but now, he didn’t give a shit about it. If it made Caliban uncomfortable, good. At least that fucker would leave his room and give them some privacy.

The kiss ended. “I feel reborn. I don’t feel any pain. I can see clearly. Like a goddamn miracle.” Logan put her down on the bed next to him and walked to a mirror he had in the room. “Fuck!” he gasped. He stared at his reflection. 

He kept searching for the scars on his shoulders and his face. Or the one over his ribs. There was nothing. What remained was the grey-brown short hair or the thick beard. His fingers touched every part of his face, just to be sure it wasn’t an illusion.

“At least I don’t have to watch the puss on his knuckles,” Caliban commented. “By the way, it’s time to give Charles his medication. Since you are all cheerful and healthy, it’s your turn. I had a rough night,” he said grumpily. 

Logan glared at the mutant. “Fine.” 

Once Caliban was out of the room, Y/N walked to Logan. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you, darlin’.” 

“Anything for you. Now, it’s time to move to the rest of my plan,” she said. “I have a safe place for us. It’s gonna be a long drive to Canada, but everything is set and ready. And by us, I also included Charles. We need to take care of him. He once welcomed us to the mutant school. It’s our turn to do the same.” 

He shook his head in disbelief. “Always the one with a plan. What about Caliban?” 

“Sorry, not included,” she said. “He did a lot of shit in his life. I can arrange some supplies for him once we leave, but that’s it.” 

“When do we leave?” 

“As soon as we can. Let’s give Charles his meds, pack everything you need and leave,” said Y/N. 

Logan took a deep breath. “Come here,” he whispered. He needed to kiss her. It was like sealing a deal with Y/N, that this was the new beginning, a new chance to have a better life. Was this finally his happy ending? 

[jennzworld]

"You understand... don't you?"

Solivan Brugsmansia x GN!Reader

TW: Sol, stalking (from both Sol and reader), mentions of torture if you squint, somnophilia mentioned, Sol admits to jerking off at the thought of you, Reader admits to planning abduction, NSFW, dark themes (kinda), no pronouns mentioned, making out, dry humping

a/n: I haven't played too much of TKATB, but I get the gist of it, also didn't feel like writing too much smut, that'll be a separate post, also way shorter than I expected

White is you, Green is Sol, Crowe is purple, Pink is Brittney... Everyone except you and Sol get 1-2 lines in a flashback

MINORS DNI ‼️ or do, idc

It was sunny out and you dreaded waking up to another day of hell. You shower, get dressed, eat, and get the fuck out.

Leaving the house, you made sure to take your keys, wallet, and phone, which was actually charged this time..

"I'm not forgetting anything right?"

You look around your apartment, making sure nothing is left or out of place, when your eyes catch the window, or rather, the window lock.

"I've really gotta replace that, I swear I already did... whatever"

You brush it off and leave, making sure to lock the door on the way out. You make your way to Olympieus University, the corrupt college you still manage to attend.

Of course, walking to class, the first person you see is Crowe, your "best friend", but you fucking hate him. Well- not hate, but you really don't like him, romantically at least...

You had your eyes on Sol, the kid at the back who sketches in his book. Solivan Brugsmansia was his name, and he was the hottest fucking guy you've ever met. He stayed to himself, and you've caught him looking at you once or twice.. I mean, yeah you'd catch him, you stared at him lots, shamelessly too.

It wasn't until your art teacher paired you two up for a project that you'd finally have the chance to talk to him! You hurried and made your way to the back, not worried about the stares of the other students who wondered why you were so eager to sit with the weird guy.

Solivan smiles as you sit with him, you look so happy and eager to work with him that it melts his heart...

"Hey Sol, it's me again!"

"Yeah, hey Y/N..."

The both of you chat it up for a bit while starting the project, it was simple. Make portraits of eachother and make sure it looks right, not that serious.

Especially for you.

Little did Sol know, you've been watching him for awhile, and not just in class. It wasn't your fault, he was just so fucking amazing, you wanted to know what his life was like! No harm in that, right?

Wrong.

That's what your mother said to you. It was junior year and you liked this person, so much so that you followed them around a lot, sometimes without their knowledge. It was a habit you tried to desperately grow out of, but you just couldn't. It felt... out of your control.

Sol sits across from you in your apartment, as you both agreed to finish off the project at your place.

Perfect for you, wasn't it?

"Okay, I'm done. I think it looks nice"

"Yay! Lemme see!"

He hands you the paper as his face turns a light shade of pink. He looks away, the sketch was so accurate you wanted to kiss him right then and there. But, as tempting as it was, you held back.

Just like you always did.

"You like that guy?"

"He gives me bad vibes, Y/N"

"Don't involve yourself with him"

"I just don't want you to get hurt"

They all said the same thing.

Did you know something was wrong with him? Yes.

Did you do anything about it? No.

Why? Because you're the same.

"Y/N?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry..."

"Did you uhm... Did you like it?"

"Of course, Sol, I love it!"

You smile and give him a hug, thanking him for the portrait before starting on his. You sketch his face shape carefully, this was the only time you actually had a reason to stare at his face. He was the most beautiful person you've ever laid eyes on, you swear it.

A few hours had passed and the portraits were looooong forgotten.. You had somehow ended up in Sol's lap, grinding down on him while he kissed you feverishly.

Your hands planted on his shoulders, one of his hands on your waist, the other cupping your face as his tongue slides into your mouth. His whimpers and whines hitting your ears doing nothing but making you more aroused and you move your hips down harder, faster.

"Fuck... Y/N you're sooo good to me~"

You can obviously tell how good you are to him, judging by the fucking monster he has in his pants. Showing your appreciation, you lean down toward his neck and bite down, hard.

The pornographic moan he let out was heavenly.

"You're such a f-fucking good boy, a-aren't you Sol~?"

"A-all for you, baby~"

Nearing release, you smash your lips onto his again, going as fast as you possibly can with his assistance. You let out reluctant whines and whimpers as you get closer and closer to tipping..

An eye rolling, back arching, tongue lolling orgasm hits you like a freight train as Sol holds you closer to him, clinging to you like a vice.

"I've been dreaming about this, about us, for so long... and we finally made that happen"

"Really now? Been fuckin your fist to me or something?"

You laugh, only half expecting the answer that comes after.

"If I said yes would you be mad?"

"No, I guess I have secrets too..."

"Like what?"

"I've been stalking you."

You say it so bluntly his eyes widen, as if he hasn't been doing the same thing!

"Well, guess we're on the same page. I've kissed you in your sleep..."

"So you're the reason my fucking window lock is broken!

You smack his chest before smushing his cheeks together

"You owe me 25 dollars!"

He just laughs before rolling you both over on the couch, his green hair falling over his face.

"That's nothing, I've got it"

"Looks like my plan of throwing you in an abandoned warehouse wasn't useless after all."

"Wow, you really beat me to it huh?"

You both end up finishing your projects at 2am... Sol does stay the night and you both surprisingly don't dread the next day.

Tags!

@rado-brisingr @whitneysslut @its-atsui-bitch

I only tagged adults, I'm not tagging minors, but idc if you read. Just make sure to like it.

[queenpiranhadon]

HII you commented on my post :’) 🎀

can I request pro hero bakugou x pro hero reader where reader usually pick up their kid(s) from daycare alone since BK is busy and usually gets home late:( and that kinda made their kid(s) upset and ignore their dad at home and cry really loud in front of reader secretly. So like reader came up with an idea to surprise the kid(s) and told BK to change his schedule or else reader will whoop his ass. So like the next day BK and reader went to daycare together and instead of reader standing behind the glass door it’s BK and that made their kid(s) go crazy and jumpy 🥺 thank you 💗

Idk I was watching this reel and got a lil inspired ~ https://www.instagram.com/jaxon.trevor/reel/CsTuZLUofpg/?igsh=MTNuZHY3ZDEwMnNoZA==

A/N: HIII SORRY THIS TOOK ME A WHILE AHAHAH BUT I LOVED WRITING THIS IT WAS SO CUTEEE Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Mild cursing, f!reader, your kids love you, pre-established relationship (you two are married), you have twins, Katsuki loves you, just fluffy fluff with like the mildest angst if you squint really hard.

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴅᴀʏᴄᴀʀᴇ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It's late. You were in the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner, as your husband finally relaxes in your shared bedroom after a long patrol. It was always like this, Katsuki getting home late, and you were left to take care of your two children in the meantime.

You didn't blame him, of course, you knew how hard he worked, given that he was the number 2 pro hero and with that came a lot of responsibilities. You yourself were number 5, which meant you also had a lot of missions, but thankfully since you ran your own agency, you could manage your schedules easier to be able to pick up your kids from daycare every day.

However, your twins, Kasumi and Akio, weren't as understanding as you were when it came to your husband's attendance at home.

You understood their pain, but tried to keep an open mind for the sake of your family. However, after a two month long mission that Katsuki was sent on, he had consequently missed your birthday, something that might've upset you slightly, but you didn't think it was a big deal.

The twins, however did. They were furious at this point, sobbing as they clung onto your shirt, snot and tears soaking the fabric, but you didn't mind, rubbing their backs comfortingly. You thought it was sweet, how much they cared, but they little voice in the back of your head agreed with them, if only a little. Katsuki was never at home anymore, and to be honest, you missed him.

When he came back, you welcomed him with open arms, but the twins had just peaked their heads out of their rooms before retreating back, as if this was a normal occurrence.

You sigh, and look back at Katsuki, who had a heartbroken expression on his face.

Grabbing his hand, you lead him to your shared bedroom, squeezing his hand softly and getting ready for bed.

Katsuki gets changed but only sits on the bed, and you lie down next to him.

"What's on your mind, love?"

He grunts and looks away, conflicted before looking back at you.

"Do...do the twins hate me?" he mutters, and you frown softly.

"No...they don't hate you Kats, they just...wish you were around more."

Your husband frowns, and you can see the guilt swimming in the depths of his vermillion eyes.

"Maybe you can pick them up from daycare tomorrow?" You suggest, as Katsuki still hasn't said a word.

Katsuki frowns. "But my schedule-"

"Katsuki Bakugou if you do not pick up your children from school tomorrow then I'm sleeping on the couch for a month." You retort back before he can finish.

Your husband's eyes widen, realizing that you've got him stuck. If it really came down to it, he would gladly sleep on the couch if you wanted him to - but you knew he loved you too much to subject you to the same fate.

"Damn it, fine. Don't you dare threaten me like that again, woman." he grumbles and you smile up at him victoriously.

"Awww you love me." you coo, and you kiss his arm softly before tugging him gently to join you under the covers.

Katsuki watches you drift away to sleep, cheek half smushed against his bare chest and he can't help the dorky smile that stretched across his face.

He loved you so, so much. More than you would ever know.

Encircling his strong arms around you, he hold you close, making a mental note to take you out for a nice date tomorrow as well, before drifting off to sleep as well.

When he wakes, you're gone, with a note on the fridge that says that you left to drop the kids off and that you'd be back after work. He chuckles, and decides to clean up the house in the meantime.

He can't remember the last time he had a day off, it felt weird, to be honest. He felt restless, and so he did everything and anything to keep himself occupied while taking a majority of the burden you had off your shoulders.

Once the house was clean, he rifled through your closet, picking out the sundress he loved - accentuating your curves while the color brought out everything he loved about you, which was well, everything.

When you return home, Katsuki's getting changed into some nice clothes, surprising you as he tells you to go shower and get ready while he picks up the kids.

You're most definitely surprised, wondering where all of this is coming from, but you can't say you're upset about him, giggling softly and deciding to play along, feeling your heart warm as you hear the car door shut.

Katsuki parks the car in the parking lot, and approaches the building, giddy but slightly nervous at the same time. What if the kids still hated him? Would he be able to make things better?

However all his worried disappeared the moment he saw his kids' overjoyed faces at seeing him.

Their eyes brighten and they scream excitedly, bolting towards him with speed that was almost inhuman, tackling him and almost knocking him down.

"DADDY!!!!!" Kasumi squealing, leaping up and attaching herself to his leg.

Akio looks up at him, agape. "You-you're actually here?!"

Katsuki chuckles and ruffles his son's hair lovingly."Yeah, I am, bud. M'sorry I couldn't pick ya up sooner...Ya know how hero work is."

The kids nod, hugging him tightly as his hefts them up to sit on either of his hips.

"C'mon you two. We're gonna go surprise yer mama when he get home, got it? We'll take out her somewhere nice."

The twins look at each other micheviously and nod vigorously. "Daddy's in looooove" they sing, giggling uncontrollably.

Katsuki chuckles and can't help but feel his heart flutter at the thought of you.

"Yeah, Daddy's in love all right."

[green-butterfly-writes]

Yandere Batfam concept: neglected trans reader

Warnings for: child neglect, unintentional transphobia as a result of child neglect, (non bigoted) religious imagery, blasphemous imagery, idolizing Bruce Wayne

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so mistakes are likely to happen.

Standard neglected reader, they are Bruce’s bio kid, don’t get involved in Batman stuff, and end up getting punished to the side.

They realize they are trans while still living with the Waynes, and aren’t sure if they should come out or not. Not that they think the batclan would hurt them, but given the total lack of support or attention they were raised with, they were worried.

After a year or two of suffering through dysphoria and anxiety, they decide to come out to Bruce.

Except Bruce is very difficult to get a hold of. Especially for them. So when they do finally tell him, he’s distracted and not paying attention. The conversation goes roughly like this:

You finally managed to find time he wasn’t Batmaning, spending time with your siblings, or in the office, and even though you’d prefer he look at you and not the paper work he was doing, you’ll take what you can get.

You were in his darkly furnished home office, in a deep blue plush chair sitting at an angle from Bruce, who was behind the large dark wood desk in the center of the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves taller than mount Olympus, each and every one of them filled with neatly organized text books, encyclopedias, and dictionaries.

Bruce sat in front of the only window in the room. It was tall, and a made of neatly organized, fractured glass. It lit Bruce from behind, like one of the stained glass murals from your grandmother‘s church, and made him look like an angel. A heavenly messenger you prayed to every night for protection, and every day for love. But the world is cruel, and so is its creator, so your prayers continued to go unanswered.

“Dad,” you started hesitantly, “I have something I wanted to talk to you about. I thought it best to tell you in person.” Typically, if you had something you wanted to share with Bruce, you would write it in a letter, leave it on his bedside table, and he’d get back to you in a week or two. But you wanted to tell him yourself. You need to see his face when he found out.

Bruce only hummed in response.

“I’m trans. I’m not going by (dead name) any more, I’m going by (chosen name) now. And I’ve changed my pronouns too. It would mean a lot to me if you used them.” You stared down at your lap, fidgeting with your intertwining fingers, waiting for a response.

Silence suffocated you as Bruce continued his even scribbling across his note pad, turning to the next page in the grant proposal he was reading.

“That’s nice (dead name). Why don’t you go see if Alfred needs help in the garden, I’m sure he’d love to hear your stories.”

You felt as if your very soul had shattered into a million pieces. Your heart burred in your chest, and your mouth went dry. It felt like someone had dunked your head a pile of fresh snow and held you there. You couldn’t feel your body, or hear your mind, and at the same time you felt it all too much, and heard it far to loud.

You had prayed to your heavenly messenger, your savior, your prophet. He who had granted you life and meaning. Who had saved you from deaths door, and carried you into his home. And you were just turned away at the altar.

That was the last time you called him dad.

You considered coming out to Alfred, the only member of the family that remembers your existence without you needing to remind him, but he’s old and you wouldn’t be able to stomach another rejection.

The next few years were hell.

Every event felt like a nightmare, trapped in a cage of fabric, every time you put on your school uniform you wanted to scream

Everyone called you the name you were desperate to forget, used the pronouns that made you skin sit wrong on your bones

You stopped looking in mirrors, hating what you saw.

Once you turned eighteen you practically ran out of the house.

You got excepted to a school in another state and took it, never looking back.

You wrote Alfred monthly letters about how you were doing for the first two years, then every other month, then every four. Slowly weening him off of updates about your life. You still send him a card during the holidays and one for his birthday so he knows you’re alive, but the address is for a P.O. box, so he doesn’t know where you live.

It’s now ten years after you left and you’re doing amazing. You’re flourishing in your career, have an amazing group of friends, and maybe most importantly, changed your first and last name. You got the surgeries you wanted, went on hormones, and can look yourself in the mirror now. You love your life

Sometimes when you’re watching tv or walking through the streets, you’ll see advertisements, magazines, or talk shows with imagery of your now forgotten false idol. Sometimes you wonder how he’s doing, how his kids have grown. You wonder if he misses you. Your therapist told you that’s normal for victims of child abuse. You pay the thoughts no mind.

You don’t watch the every move of your golden bat anymore, in fact you don’t watch any. And you don’t realize that he’s watching you, praying for forgiveness, not only for what he has done, but for what he’s about to do.

[churipu]

omg .. jjk men with a gf who collects plushies !! her bed r filled with them and these big n tall men (EHEM GOJO AND TOJI !!) probably cursed her poor plushies to death in their heads when they saw her cuddling it instead of them :((

jjk men vs their gf's plushie collection

featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, inumaki toge x fem! reader

warnings. cursing and them fighting your plushies :>

note. i'm writing this as i'm in a zoom meeting to discuss my finals with my friends, idek what's going on anymore and i think something's wrong with my stomach ngl :< anw, anon, i absolutely love this bcs imagine tho.. gojo squaring up with your plushie?? good instagram reel content. hope you enjoy this one anon, and all of u other sexies ofc <33

GOJO SATORU. he. loathes. your. plushies. like, he comes over sometimes and you call him from inside your bedroom — so he opens the door to your room and there you were, laying on the bed, cuddling a cute mochi plushie.

and he's all hysterical, yelling out and immediately pulling the mochi plushie out of your grip, "you're cheating on me with.. with this?" he kicks away your plushie.

"satoru, what's wrong with you?"

gojo furrows his brows and he points a finger at you accusingly, "why hug that?" he pointed at the collection of plushies surrounding you, "when you have this?" before pointing at himself proudly.

"you could've just said you were jealous, com'ere."

gojo immediately threw himself into your arms, making sure to "accidentally" kick your plushies out of the bed so the both of you could have the bed to yourselves.

"hey! my babies!"

"i'm your baby!"

TOJI FUSHIGURO. like gojo, i feel like he just hates the thought of you paying attention more to your plushies rather than him (but he won't admit that), so don't even be surprised anymore if one day a plushie disappears out of your collection.

"toji, have you seen my peashooter plushie anywhere?"

he shook his head, "no."

(he gave it away to a little kid in the streets, telling his mother he wss giving it away for free because it belonged to him when he was young)

"toji, have you seen my cupcake plushie? i swear it was just here yesterday."

toji shook his head, focusing his eyes onto the tv screen.

(he has a personal vendetta against your plushie he punches them out of anger when you're not home — and apparently manages to punch a hole into your cupcake plushie, so he threw it away).

and one day when you caught him in the act of swinging around a pokemon plushie by it's leg, so it all started finally clicking in, "you were the reason behind the disappearance of my other plushies, weren't you?"

"maybe. why d' ya' care so much about them? ya' have something better to hu—" you threw a plushie to his face to shut him up.

"you.. asshole! how could you?"

toji begrudgingly has to buy you not one, but two plushies for you to make it up to you (you just don't know how much he has thrown away behind your back).

INUMAKI TOGE. he aggressively signs to you that he's allergic to your plushies material (in an attempt to get you to throw them away), and you believed in him. you didn't throw them away though (much to his dismay), all you did was store them away and puts a few in the living room for you to hug when you watch a movie or when you just want to nap when inumaki's out of the house.

the male always pretends to be sneezing or coughing when a plushie or two is nearby him in an attempt to continue his act. but one day you come home and toge was just chilling in the living room, laying his head onto your plushie.

"... aren't you allergic to the material, toge?" you asked that so calmly he swore he felt chills run down his spine.

inumaki sat up straight, shook his head, and began singing how he is — but today was different and he just felt fine. then the next few hand signs weren't even coherent you didn't understand what he was trying to say to you.

"toge, you've been lying about your allergies, haven't you?"

inumaki's internally screaming and panicking, he kept chanting, "oh she's angry at me, what to do? what to do?"

"why did you do that? what are you hiding from me?"

so he just sighs out softly and signs about his whole feeling towards your plushie, and all you could do is laugh at him — but at the end of the day it's:

inumaki 01

plushie 00

since you proceeded to still store away your collections and keep only a couple.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !