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lalunalando · 7 months ago

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Ruins - CS55

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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff, teasing, car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

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Mallorca was a place that unless you had been there to see it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t believe such a place could be real.

Yet here you were, laughing along with your boyfriends family, glass of wine in one hand and his hand in the other, enjoying the beautiful weather at his family’s holiday home on the beautiful island.

Looking beside you, you couldn’t help the genuine smile planted peacefully on your face as Carlos joked around with his cousins, looking carefree amongst the people who made him the happiest in this world, which for the past few years has included you.

“So how are you enjoying mallorca so far?” His mother asks from across the table, bringing your attention back to the conversation amongst the women.

“I have never seen a place more beautiful, it’s like you take a breath in and you’re instantly at peace” you respond with a smile, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand to remind you he’s still there.

“We’re so glad you were able to make it this time, Carlos was so insufferable last holidays, always sulking about how much he misses you” his younger sibling Ana teases from the end of the table, earning a grape thrown at her by the embarrassed man to your right.

“I wasn't sulking!” he argues back with a pout.

“cabron, you spent more time pouting at her social medias than actually having a conversation with us” his best friend Roberto shot back from his other side, earning him a sharp elbow to the side.

“aww, obsessed much? i might have to tell my boyfriend i have a stalker” you jokingly teased, making his family burst out laughing around the table.

The Sainz family had been nothing but warm and welcoming since the first time you had met them, instantly accepting you into the family and making you comfortable.

Not having such a close relationship with your own family, this had meant the world to you that without a second thought they had welcomed you into theirs with open arms, Ana and Blanca instantly swapping secrets and clothes with you, Reyes showing you how to cook Carlos’ favorite meals for every mood, Carlos Sr teaching you everything motorsports related he could (excited when he learnt you were already a fan of it before and eager to learn the ins and outs of the industry), Caco making sure you were always safe on race weekends and taken as care of as Carlos was by the team, and even Teto who became a like an older brother figure to you (bullying included.)

You felt safe, you felt home, and you could never love anyone more than the man beside you.

The only downside you had found to this beautiful family trip, was the lack of alone time you and Carlos had been granted.

It had been a bit of a rough season so far, with his contract with Ferrari being announced to be ending at the end of the season, meaning while he was having an extremely impressive year on track, he spent every other moment off track in talks with other teams for a contract for the next season.

Luckily, he was in high demand so there was no issue with obtaining one, it was just about choosing who would be the best fit for him, and it had to be decided by the end of this summer holiday.

All you wanted was a little alone time, starting to grow needy by the day and constantly reminded by the teasing touches your boyfriend would leave you with, like right now as he ran his fingers along your thigh under the table.

It was frustrating, any time something was about to happen between the two of you, someone would pop up.

Like this morning, a heavy make out session brought on by his morning wood poking into your back when you woke up? Interrupted by his mother knocking on the bedroom door letting you know breakfast would be ready in 5 minutes.

Last night in the pool, thinking everyone else had well and truly gone to bed? Roberto cannonballing into the pool after noticing you two were still up to annoy.

You loved them all, and you couldn’t be more grateful, but you were getting needy and desperate for your boyfriend.

”Caro, are you feeling okay? you zoned out on us…” Reyes asks with concern, nodding for Ana beside you to top up your water for you.

“Oh i’m so sorry, must have just had a little too much wine before properly eating, i’m okay!” you assure her, gulping as Carlos’ hand trails further up your thigh.

She just nods with a smile before resuming conversation around the table

“Carlos behave, we are at lunch with your family.” you hiss quietly at him, leaning over to him so no one else could hear the conversation you two were having.

“but conejita, i can’t stop thinking about this morning, you looked so pretty all flushed just from a few kisses, so desperate for me” he responded, his breath tickling your neck and making you almost choke on the sip of wine you were taking.

“Please excuse me, i just need to go make a quick call home before it gets too late over there” you quickly stood up and made an excuse to step away for a second, unable to endure Carlos right now.

Stepping into the kitchen once inside, you braced yourself against the marble countertop and focused on calming yourself down again.

You could feel your skin burning from his touch and the wetness pooling in your panties from all the teasing he was doing, torturing you endlessly.

So focused on trying to regain your composure, you hadn't noticed Carlos come in behind you until he was winding his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest, making sure you felt just how much he was also suffering with his jeans feeling especially tight against his crotch right now.

“Amor, are you okay? you look a little flushed” he smirks as he kisses down your neck.

“are you okay” you respond in a mocking tone, “of course i’m not okay Carlos, you can’t keep your hands to yourself and we haven’t had a moment alone in a week now!”

“aww, is my pretty baby getting needy?” he teases in response, hands starting to wander down to the hem of the short sundress you had opted to wear today.

You turned around quickly, placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away lightly to stop his torment.

“don’t act like it’s just me struggling, your zip looks like it might burst any minute now, might want to go take care of that mi amor” Placing a light kiss on his lips before returning to the group outside before he could react.

“So do you guys have anything planned for the rest of the evening?” Blanca asks as you settle back into the group, Carlos following right behind you.

“I was thinking about taking her down to the ruins for the sunset and a beach walk” Carlos responds quickly, grabbing your hand on top of the table as you tilt your head in confusion at him.

“Oh that sounds wonderful hijo, i’m sure she’s going to love that!” Reyes smiles at you both

“the ruins? there’s ruins here?” you ask excitedly, being a known nerd for that sort of thing.

“si, Necropolis de Son Real, it´s an old cemetery from the roman era and before” he smiles as he squeezes your hand, seeing your eyes light up in excitement.

Suddenly you hear an exaggerated sigh from beside carlos, before Teto speaks up

“So you're both abandoning me for the evening to look at nerd shit? Why do you hate me?” sending the table into a fit of laughter as he fake cried.

An hour later, you and Carlos were loading into his Ferrari to head down to the coastal ruins.

A 30 minute drive, but it was uninterrupted time together that you were looking forward to just spending in the presence of your boyfriend.

The smooth Ferrari 812 Competizione roaring to life under you, Carlos gives you a sweet smile as you set off, letting you have control of the radio as per your usual passenger princess duties.

Carlos couldn’t help but look at you lovingly while you sang along to “i like the way you kiss me” by Artemas, dancing in the little ways you could while remaining seated.

“i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

not tryna be romantic, i’ll hit it from the back

just so you don’t get attached”

“mi amor, hitting it from the back is what got me attached, have you seen your ass?” he smirks as you swat his arm.

“i should have known you were just with me for my ass” you sigh.

“of course not conejita” he says as he squeezes your thigh before laughing, “you have a nice set of tits too”

Reaching the Santa Margalida coast, you were stunned by the beautiful coastline that awaited you. Getting to the ruins was going to be a bit of a walk but you were too excited to care.

Carlos watched in awe as you skipped up the trail, hair flowing behind you as a breeze moved your dress around your legs, he couldn’t believe he had been so lucky to find someone so beautiful and supportive, someone his family adored, someone he couldn’t wait to spend forever with.

“Carlitos look! look at the cool tomb remains” you exclaim as you finally reach the site

“thankyou so much for bringing me here, i love it so much, this is the coolest thing ever!”

”Mi cariño, i would do anything to make you as happy as you make me by just existing” he responds as he wraps you in his arms and places a kiss to your hair

You spent the next hour exploring around and taking pictures of the site, as Carlos secretly took pictures of you in your element.

Once you had explored it all, he held his hand out for you to take as you started the long trek back to the car.

“so, what has been your favorite thing about this trip so far?” he asks genuinely as you walk down the coastal beach.

“hmmm i’d love to say it was definitely the ruins, but my real favorite thing has been spending time with you and your family. Seeing how happy and carefree you are, i couldn’t love it more” you smile back.

“even though we’ve had no time alone until now?” he says as he pulls you in to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“don’t get me wrong, i can’t wait to have you to myself in our apartment again” you laugh in response.

As you’re about 10 minutes away from the car, a summer shower starts as the sun goes down, making you and Carlos laugh as you run the rest of the way back to the car hand in hand, clothes sticking to you both the wetter they got.

Jumping back into the car, you couldn’t stop laughing about the unexpected turn of events as Carlos just admired the carefree attitude you showed towards it.

His exes before you would have cursed him out, probably blamed him for the weather shift or at the very least for not warning them (like he knew it was going to happen).

It would have led to fights that lasted days, him eventuality having to be the one to apologize even though he had done nothing wrong.

But you? you were sat in the passenger seat, laughing as you tried to unstick your dress from your skin, not phased at all that it had happened.

Without a second thought, Carlos reached over and grabbed your face, smashing his lips to yours like he needed the air in your lungs to breathe.

As you both pulled away for air, you gave him a confused look.

“not that i'm complaining, but what was that for? are you okay” you ask.

“i couldn’t be happier, just looking at you makes me realize how lucky i am to have you, i really do love you” he answers sincerely.

You smile and bring him into another kiss, enjoying this peaceful moment shared by just the two of you.

The sun having now set, no one around, just you and your lover.

The peace doesn’t last long though, as Carlos is getting hungrier for you as the kisses deepen.

Before long, he’s moving his seat back as far as it will go and pulling you over the center and onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs as one of his hands grips your waist and the other is tangled in your hair, holding you against him.

You can’t help but whimper as you grind down on his hard cock, the tight material of his jeans not making it easy for him and you could feel it all in the lace panties you wore that barely covered anything as is.

“the sounds coming out of you right now conejita are enough to make me cum at this point if you’re not careful, you’ve left me suffering too many times this week” Carlos groans into your ear before kissing down your neck.

“it hasn’t been any easier for me you know, i can’t do the same things you can when i’ve been in the shower” you tease back, grinding down harder onto him as he hisses.

“you’ve been greedy mi amor? touching yourself without me in the shower?” he growls, almost animalistic.

“don’t act like you haven’t done the same” you smirk back.

Carlos' hand that was tangled in your hair slowly trails down your figure, running lightly over your collarbones and nipples, before settling on your thigh.

He rubs his thumb on your inner thigh, slowly lifting the hem of your dress up your thighs until he can get a peak of your panties.

Seeing the barely-there black lace, he throws his head back and groans at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his jeans.

“Were you trying to kill me today? what is this?” he asks as he brushes his thumb over your clit through the lace, making you whimper in response as he feels just how wet they are.

“Joder, eres tan guapa” he groans as he leans back a little to look, moving the lace to the side as he runs his thumb over the sensitive bud again.

“Carlos please, i-“

“i know pretty girl, i’ll give you what you need in a second, just let me admire” he drools, slipping his fingers through your folds at a teasing pace.

Without warning, he slips two fingers in to stretch you out for what's to come, making you almost scream in pleasure at the feeling.

“what a good girl, taking two so well for me, think you can ride my fingers pretty girl?” he whispers in your ear, biting and sucking at the skin of your neck, openly leaving marks his family will undoubtedly ask about later.

As you rock back and forth on his lap, his fingers curling inside you to hit the right spots as his thumb continues work on your clit, your nails are digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on keeping your pace.

With all the pent up tension from the past week, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your first orgasm approaching.

Carlos feels it too, knowing the all too familiar clench of your walls around his fingers, he’s desperate to bring you over the edge, using the hand on your hip to increase your pace as his fingers work you harder from the inside.

Your hand flies to the now fogged up window, leaving a hand mark on it as you scream his name and cum around his fingers, your hips stuttering in movement as you become overly sensitive.

He draws his fingers out once he knows you're done, looking you dead in the eye as he places them in his mouth and sucks them clean, making your pussy clench at the sight.

You decide to tease him back as he pulls them out, grabbing his hand and putting his fingers in your own mouth before sucking and twirling your tongue around them, making him growl.

He wastes no time in lifting you just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, before lining himself up with your entrance.

“do you think you have another one in you, mi tesoro?” he asks, slapping his tip against your clit and making you whimper as you nod, unable to speak actual words right now.

“good girl, that’s my pretty angel” he praises as he lowers you onto his cock, stretching you out even more at his size.

It didn’t matter how many times you’d done this, you’d never be used to his size.

It made sense that he was as big and thick as he was, the man himself being broad and muscular, but you could never truly expect JUST how big he was down there.

The first time you’d slept together, you’d been sure he was going to break you in half.

His hand had not been anywhere near enough over the last week, once he had had a taste of you he could never go back to anything or anyone else, the only way Carlos could describe how you felt around him is “made by god specifically for him” and he made sure it was known.

“fuck amorcita, you take me so well” he groans, his grip on your hip bruising as he settles you into a pace that drives you both absolutely wild.

“Carlos i’m not going to last” you moan, already starting to see the little white dots in your vision again.

“that’s okay princesa, either am i after the week without feeling you, but when we get back to madrid you better be prepared for an entire day of being used” he growls as he fucks up into you, making you yelp at the further sensation.

A few minutes later and you couldn’t hold on any longer, begging for him to let you finish.

“Carlos please, please, i can't hold on any longer can i please cum” you beg, tears lining your eyes as you crumble.

“let go amorcita, cum with me” he groans as he bruises your cervix from the final few thrusts he fucks up into you, feeling you squeezing his cock like a vice.

With his words, you’re screaming out his name over and over, leaving more handprints on the glass as his hand joins yours and squeezes, rain still falling around the car as it’s cloaked in complete darkness now the sun has fully set.

Carlos feels you let go and does the same, filling you completely to the point you can feel it coming out as he slowly thrusts a few more times, getting you both through your highs.

Finally lifting your head off his shoulder from where you rested while regaining your breath and balance, you give him a few light kisses before trying to slide off of his dick without making too much of a mess, unsuccessfully.

He quickly places your panties back into place over your pussy, making sure to give it a light tap for good measure as he chuckles.

All you can do is roll your eyes as you readjust your dress again, before climbing back over to your seat and getting comfortable for the long drive back.

“Well that will tide me over for about… 5 hours i think?” Carlos jokes as he starts the car up and pulls out of the parking lot.

“Try 7 days my love, we still have another week here” you remind him sweetly, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“Nope, i don’t care if my family hears anymore, i’m not going that long without you again” he states, kissing your hand before an evil smile places itself over his face.

“Besides, once Teto gets sight of the bruises i’ve left on your skin, there’s no way we’re hiding what happened today anyway.”

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peggyao3 · 4 months ago

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Night Crawler - Pt. 1

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader / can be read as OC

SUMMARY: Feyd-Rautha welcomes a nocturnal visitor in his chambers, who is plagued by the symptoms of her artificially induced condition.

WORD COUNT: 3,558

TAGS: 18+, smut, lactation kink 🍼‼️, pseudo pregnancy, breastfeeding (no baby involved only a big sexy egg man), she/her reader, AFAB reader, ambiguous relationship status, non-consenting drug use, dark undertones, implied violence, stockholm syndrome-ish, dubious consent, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Part 1 ↓, Part 2, Part 3

The nights on Giedi Prime are inky black, not midnight blue like on her home world. Inky black are also the sharp-edged pillars that frame the hallway. Jagged polymer giants that intersect the row of windows like alien artifacts. The view outside is not much better. Where one might expect palace gardens are only industrial plants that stretch past the horizon. They are the only source of light.

This corridor is solely occupied by the na-Baron. She has been here many times. But never alone. The corridor where she resides is not far away, yet the path seems to stretch on forever, the Harkonnen palace a hostile monster that pierces her marrow and bone with every barefooted step on cold, black tiles.

She hates this so much. Tonight will be her personal disgrace. That she goes to him willingly, and in the middle of the night no less, is a first.

Though willingly is a farfetched word. No servant has reacted to her request for some pain relief remedy, mumbled then shouted into the transmitter panel in the wall of her chamber. It could be because she had uttered a wrong word in the afternoon or he didn’t like the way she held her fork and knife at dinner. It is hard to tell with Feyd-Rautha.

What is also not under her influence is the chemical cocktail in her veins that tricks her body into believing something has taken root in her womb. The symptoms are manifold, but what torments her most is how her breasts have grown bigger and heavier with milk that no one drinks.

At first glance one might think the fine lines that frame her enlarged breasts are stretch marks, but many of them are scars, placed by an enraptured Feyd-Rautha who loves to lap up the crimson beads, from base to peak. Sometimes his mouth and teeth ghost over her pert nipples.

The na-Baron seems to find sick enjoyment in her condition, fantasizing about the idea without the commitment. It is still better than being forced to carry the his real spawn.

The corridor ends in a dead end and she raises her hand, knocks on the door with cold knuckles. “My Lord?” Her warm breath is a ghost swallowed by the hallway.

There is no sound to be heard, nothing moves aside from the rise and fall of her ribcage. She swallows her pride and knocks again.

A mechanism whirrs and the door slides open. Out comes Feyd with a knife. That much was to be expected, but she still gasps when the icy edge of the blade finds her throat. The na-Baron’s frown dissolves into surprise when he recognizes her. Her throat is one of the few he wouldn’t slit right away for disturbing him.

“Feyd-!” She gasps and flinches away from the blade. Its tip tickles her jaws.

He was asleep, she realizes and is somehow surprised. The slight touch of puffiness around sharp eyes gives him away. She has never seen him sleep and she believes no one has, except for his own mother perhaps, who is now dead by matricide. This pinch of vulnerability on Feyd-Rautha’s face makes her heart stutter, as she hadn’t expected to wrest a triumph from this wretched night.

“What do you want, night crawler?" He sheathes the knife and drags the tip of a finger down her throat instead, to her collarbones, making a shiver roll down her spine. She prefers the knife.

“I am hurting, my Lord.” She stares straight ahead at Feyd's throat while gesturing at her breasts, avoiding his face. Tonight she can't stand to see the sickly joy that lights up his eyes whenever she's in pain. “They are… Too full, or so it feels.” Her bosom sits heavily in the snug night gown, warm and aching.

“Oh. Do they hurt badly?” Feyd wants to hear a yes. Fatigue and ire about being woken are gone now and he stares at her cleavage. The scars he made stare back at him.

“Would I come to you if they weren’t?” She spits. Feyd-Rautha smiles eerily and in the black of the night, his maws look like they possess no teeth.

“Come inside then.” He steps aside, clearing the passage into his chambers. The hairs in the nape of her neck prickle.

“Actually… “ She takes a step back. Even the alien pillars at her back emit more warmth than Feyd's den. “I only need you to call a servant for me. My panel seems to be broken. I’m sorry to have woken you, but I can get no rest like this. And I would…” She cringes. “I would like to be well-rested for whatever my Lord has in store for me tomorrow.” There is always something.

“Is that so?” Something about his voice reminds her of stepping on wet gravel. “You already woke me. No need to wake a servant now.” A hint of a smile creeps over his visage, a threat in one eye, glee in the other as he holds out his hand.

She chooses not to take it, so she can retain some dignity while entering his bed chambers. The door whirrs shut at her back and she knows she won’t be able to exit until he places his hand on a hidden panel. Slowly she walks into the center of the bleak room, walls made of polished stone, steps in the back leading down to a basin that is sunken into the floor. A double bed is at the right hand side and the ruffled sheets are the only sign that something lives in this room.

Feyd-Rautha moves like a beast of the night. She feels his breath on her neck before she hears his footsteps. Wiry arms circle her from behind and pull her against his chest. He is the warmest thing in the room, but as long as she isn’t freezing to death she prefers not to throw herself into an embrace that can warm her one second and scorch her the next. He kisses her neck and softly slides the straps of her nightgown down her shoulders.

Assuming Feyd’s intentions are as they most often are, she shuffles away and pulls the straps back up, trying to sound stern. “F-Feyd-Rautha, I don't know what you think you can do about my predicament, but I-”

“Sit on the bed with me.” His voice cuts the air like a Fremen crysknife. He is going to cut her breasts open to drain the milk, she thinks when she sits on Feyd's bed. The sheets are still warm.

From the corner of her eye, she sees him approaching and notices the wrinkles in his sleep shirt. Such everyday imperfections look bizarre on a man so atrocious. His bare feet pat on the tiles now and fabric rustles when he climbs on the bed. He sits and leans against the sleek headboard, a single pillow in his back and waits.

“Come.” Reluctantly she turns, gathers her nightgown skirt and scoots closer towards him. Too slow for his liking. His pale fingers brush against her throat. “Why aren’t you wearing your collar?”

“I don’t wear it to sleep!” She spits. “You’d know that if you ever-” Slept with me. Cold sweat breaks out under her armpits.

Feyd’s head tilts to the side, disgusting curiosity in his eyes. He pulls her in his lap, thighs on either side of his hips and then pulls down her night gown with one harsh tug so her right breast pops free. Even the soft scrape of fabric over her nipple makes her whimper and she hisses at him to be gentle.

Seated in his lap, her chest is roughly at Feyd’s face level. At first, she thinks he is only going to ogle the plump shape of her, taking sick pleasure in her visible pain as a reimbursement for disturbing him at night. But then his mouth starts ghosting over her and a trail of nips and feathery kisses leads him to the apex of her breast. One hand curls under the taut flesh and lifts it carefully.

Oh. Now she understands.

How grotesque. How humiliating. She should have expected nothing less.

With horror she watches his plush lips close around the nub. Dark eyes lift to scrutinize her face and when she utters no complaints (although God knows they’re clawing at her throat, they just can’t make it past the lump inside), Feyd closes his eyes.

Her face is scrunched, nails digging into Feyd's shoulders when he creates suction, hesitant at first but greedier as soon as the first drop of white milk decorates his black tongue. She cringes, thighs flexing around his which encourages him to cling to her hip with his free hand.

The sensation repels her at first, alien and encroaching, as if a parasite was latched onto her teat. She has never nursed anyone before. It takes her fear-conditioned mind several moments to realize no harm comes from Feyd’s mouth this time. He only suckles on her breast and his cock twitches against her core, which she ignores. In the chamber’s nocturnal silence, she hears him quietly gulp and with each moment, the torturous pressure in her breast abates. A tear almost slips down her cheek, that’s how thankful she is, even if Feyd-Rautha only helps her for his own pleasure.

Minutes pass and she almost grows used to the sensation, the pressure of his tongue against the underside of her nipple and the occasional scrape of teeth. The tender flesh however is starting to ache, not used to such a long assault of his mouth.

“That's e-enough, it h-hurts now.”

Feyd growls and his hairless brows twitch over closed eyes. He squeezes her breast, mouth latched over her nipple. Greedily, he suckles, ignoring her wincing. Shivering, she realizes that trying to take away his toy from him will always spark ire, so she gently scrapes her nails over his scalp instead until his ravenous mouth relaxes and strangely, she relaxes too.

“You can have the other one instead, okay?”

That works. His mouth slides over to her left breast, tongue swirling around the nipple before his lips close around it. He suckles more gently now and the relief makes her moan this time, spine arching against his face as milk flows into his mouth.

“Thank you, this is… So good. “

Feyd's hand still cups her right breast, as if scared she or anyone would steal it from him if left unattended. A bead of milk still clings to the nipple. With a spark of hope she wonders if Feyd-Rautha would ever be willing to share her breasts with an heir.

No, she sees him throttling his own spawn, just so he can have everything for himself.

In the dead of night, a sly little smile tugs on her mouth and she encouragingly wraps her arms around Feyd's neck, hugging him close. Willingly, he sinks into her chest, drinking with abandon. “Keep drinking,” she hums.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the na-Baron, the gladiator, is temporarily docile at her bosom.

The silent victory makes heat grow in her belly as pressure is released from her breasts. She shuffles against his lap and the hardness that rests against his belly. Feyd's hand squeezes her hip, nudging her closer. While he drinks, the other pale hand lightly fondles her right breast, catching the drop of milk with an unusually gentle index finger.

Her spine arches and her hips curl against his pelvis, head and hair falling backwards. The cool of the chamber is now pleasant on her heated skin.

“Feyd, please…” A quiet sigh, nearly swallowed by the midnight hour. Her core curiously grinds against his length.

He seems to know better what she pleads for than she does. The hand on her hip sifts through the layers of silky gown to get to where he needs, finding her flesh unobscured by undergarments. Slick essence coats her gown where she had sat and Feyd’s hand stutters when his knuckles brush through the wetness on the silk.

Instantly, her cunt bucks against his fingers and Feyd's eyes snap wide open. His digits glide through her folds, stunned to find them so wet and hot. Her entrance weeps and yields so easily when he prods lightly with two fingers.

“Don't say anything, just-” She shakes her head, realizing Feyd hasn’t said anything at all since he discovered the milk from her breasts for himself. Fascinated, he gazes up at her from coal-black eyes, pouty lips puckered around her nipple still when two calloused fingers sink into her cunt. Languidly, he thrusts, finding her walls willing and soft to the touch. She meets each thrust, sighing as she brings her hips up and down.

Looking down at Feyd’s pale skull latched to her breast, she also looks at the scars that paint them. They taunt her now.

‘Does he make you wet now?’ They seem to ask. ‘Has he finally cut you into submission, into the shape he wants?’

She doesn't feel overly submissive right now, however. The pace of her hips quickens, as does that of his fingers. Her nails dig into his scalp when a third finger eases into her cunt without her request. The stretch makes her moan and her hips needily rut against Feyd’s hand.

Even if she is not truly in power, she can at least pretend she is.

“Take yourself out of your pants!”

Determinedly, she sits up straight and leans back, breasts feeling almost light now, compared to before. Her nipple slips out of Feyd’s mouth and he gives it a parting gift, sharp teeth nipping at the tender bud. Probably the punishment for her bold tone. Still, she grows nearly euphoric when he does as she says, sliding his trousers down to his mid thighs, so his daunting cock comes to rest against his navel. It doesn’t daunt her today.

She shuffles and pulls the silky layers of her nightgown away, so her pelvis can rest on the smooth, milky expanse of Feyd’s hairless thighs. His balls rest hotly against her weeping cunt until she raises her hips and kneels, grabbing Feyd’s cock to line him up with her entrance. The size of him makes the angle awkward and she has to lean forward to try and shuffle the thick head between her folds, one hand wrapped around the shaft.

“You can ask for help, you know.” Feyd chuckles, fingers gliding over her thighs under the gown. She hisses and resists the urge to tell him to shut his mouth, lest he ruins the night. It had been so nice without the talk of his foul tongue. Finally, she has him angled like she needs him and her entrance yields for his head.

Feyd knows she struggles to take him, despite the preparation. Her soft cunt stretches around his obscene length and she tries to be strong, play it tough, so her whines can’t give away the challenge it still is for her to be a fitting sheathe for his cock. Amused, he watches her toil away in his lap, slowly sinking down, then hissing and jerking back up. He gives her the time she needs, curiously watching her face shift into triumph when their pelvises come flush.

Up and down she goes, sighing and moaning and her grimace slowly relaxes as she grows accustomed to his cock. Feyd-Rautha sinks into his pillow, sliding down the headboard as his figure becomes more and more horizontal. Her breasts are out of reach now, but he still marvels at the marks and puffiness left by his mouth. His jaws flex. He already misses the taste of her milk. Tomorrow he will instruct the authorized doctors to tweak the formula of her injections, so she will produce more.

Unbeknownst of his thoughts but well aware of his wolfish gaze on her tits, she rides him as she pleases, hands pushing up his sleepshirt so she can grope his pale torso, leaving angry red marks on his belly and on the small dent between his pectorals.

Her shoulders roll forward and her thighs hurt a little from lifting herself so repeatedly, but she tirelessly grinds against his pelvis, chasing the pleasure sparked by power that kindles in her belly before it’ll inevitably go out by something he says or does. If he had pubic hair, perhaps it would be easier to get some friction against her clit. She is missing that extra stimulation to quite push herself over the edge.

Feyd’s hands on her hips have been docile, but the moment she falters, he strikes. Her weak knees buckle when his thumb finds her clit and her wrists are gathered in his other hand.

“I… No!” She stubbornly pleads, the figment of control wrenched out of her grasp. Not even by his hands that overtake her body, but by the mean midnight-smile that decorates his face.

“That’s alright,” he coos sweetly. No one likes gravel mixed with honey.

Hot tears gather in her eyes when she fights weakly against his grasp but still moans from the pressure of his cock. She wants to tell him that nothing is alright. It’s not alright that she can’t even fuck herself to completion without his help. It’s not alright that her legs give out because of the medication he’s put her on to induce false pregnancy. It’s not alright that her tits hurt and she gets sick in the mornings and It’s definitely not alright that he’s taking her little victory away from her.

She is close to tears but doesn’t start crying. Feyd’s hips dictate the rhythm, driving up into her cunt so she no longer rides him, she only helplessly sits as he fucks her. And to her dismay, it feels better. He just does it better.

The pressure of his thumb on her clit is just right, as are the short, hard thrusts against her cervix.

This whole night still counts as a victory, she reminds herself as her head falls back and a climax rolls through her body, walls fluttering around her tormentor’s cock while he pours sweet, gravelly honey in her ears. It’s the softest he’s ever been with her.

Feyd prolongs her climax, drawing tight little circles on her clit so her walls keep milking him until he has spilled his seed harmlessly against the entrance to her womb. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest and then the chamber falls silent.

His cock twitches and relaxes against her walls while his thumb still lazily plays with her clit. Uneasily, she shifts in his lap and her squirming draws wet noises from their conjoined pelvises.

“Stop smiling,” she demands.

“I can't.” If only his smile was prettier. Feyd releases her wrists and his thumb abandons her overstimulated clit and ghosts over her abdomen, the bunched gown, her plump breasts. A flutter of warmth follows his trace as he presses into the dip between her clavicles and then brushes over her throat, perhaps still mourning the absence of her collar.

“I… I need to go to the bathroom.”

Abruptly, Feyd sits up and swings his legs over the edge, catching her before she can fall backwards off his lap. He turns his head and nips at the hand that had instinctively latched onto his shoulder. “Don't be long.”

She denies him the satisfaction of seeing her sway and buckle when she slips off his cock. It smacks against his abdomen and black seed sullies his pale stomach and shirt. Feyd doesn't mind, but if she insists on getting cleaned up, she shall.

For a moment she fears he will follow her, just to make sure she doesn't flush herself down the drain to escape him, but he remains docilely on the bed.

She just barely makes it to the bathroom before the thick rivulet of cum that rolls down her leg reaches the ankle and stains the floor. Awkwardly, she cleans herself with cold water from the sink and paper towels, then hovers over the toilet and waits until most of Feyd's release has exited her body. Some of it still stubbornly clings to her womb, she's certain.

For a moment, she regards her reflection in the mirror, little more than a shadow in the dark of night, but even now she sees the shape of her hard nipples under the silk. She feels obliged to clean the cum stain on the floor, even though that's a task for the maids.

Once she comes back out, she almost expects a knife against her throat - foreplay for what Feyd-Rautha might consider the real fun, but the na-Baron's breath chimes calmly and steadily from the bed. Could it be?

Almost as silent as a beast of the night, she slinks to the door, knowing it probably won't budge for her but it's worth a try.

“Where are you going, night crawler? Come here.”

He lifts the covers and wordlessly she resigns and climbs underneath, like a bird into an alligator’s open maws, hoping she will be useful long enough and her wings not broken when the maws snap shut.

Feyd-Rautha sleeps on her bosom that night and she cries for a good minute while caressing his scalp. Why does every triumph, no matter if big or small, always come at the cost of feeling dirty?

[If you enjoyed this fanfiction, a comment would mean the world to me! <33]

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd #feyd x reader #feyd x you #house harkonnen #feyd smut #dune part 2 #dune part two #dune fanfiction #dune #austin butler #peggysuave fanfics #feyd x oc

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year ago

Text

mastermind | d3

Description: Ms. L/N turns to Mrs. L/N. In which, you ponder where you've been - and where you are now.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo/singer!reader

yournameupdates: There's a lot to unpack with Y/N's new album. The consensus is 7 of the songs written are about her ex-boyfriend: Tom Hiddleston, while Style (ft. Taylor Swift) is about Harry Styles? What could be the reason for the L/N-Hiddleston breakup?

likes by danielricciardo, balana291, and 92,129 others

comments

danielricciardo: More interested to hear about the record-breaking awards she's going to earn after this. - yournameupdates: She's definitely in for the records.

archianana29: I think it's because Hiddleston wants to seem like a bachelor?? Because of his new marvel film. - wannna82: she's not any better, she's profiting off his success. - - oceansdeap0: @wanna82 mind you, she came out of nowhere. - - - wannna82: @oceansdeap0 exacto! publicity stunt?

yournamehiddleston: According to Y/N's newest single: All You Had To Do Was Stay. Tom Hiddleston was the first one who called things off - but after a few months of being alone, he wanted to get back with her. Hence her explaination. All he had to do was stay :(

liked by danielricciardo and 109,219 others

comments

f1multistan: Daniel is everywhere these days - watchasay8: Who? - - f1multistan: the f1 racer

hesaysme129: 'YOU WERE ALL I WANTED' it's over I think.

yn1989era: I love how it's her first album and she already has 1000m fans 😭 - katyandyn: Teenage Dream and 1989 are no skip albums

Daniel Ricciardo couldn't believe that he was invited to attend the Grammys. It wasn't like he did anything groundbreaking in the realm of the music industry - but thanks to his amazing management - he was finally there. Normally, he hated award shows because of the cameras that were shoved in his face.

But he couldn't find himself hating this award show.

His favorite singer, Y/N L/N, was going to be in the same table as him. He crossed his fingers - maybe even beside him?

"God, I'm so sorry for being late. There was a mile long traffic back there," you ran to embrace Beyonce, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as you settled in your seat. Daniel began to realize that he was extremely lucky to be seating where he was.

"Daniel Ricciardo, right?" you smiled at him with those pensive E/C eyes - pulling him back into reality. "Yes, I'm a big fan." he shook your hand, feeling those soft palms press against his.

If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

"Is it your first time in the Grammys?" you inquired, gently fiddling with the hems of your dress. "Yeah," he scratched the back of his head - oblivious to the cameras that were planted on the both of you. "It's nice to have someone to relate to," you chuckled as it was also your first time. "I heard that award shows could get pretty boring," you consulted in him.

Daniel felt so fucking special in that moment.

You were sitting beside Beyonce, but chose to speak to him. Fuck, does that mean that he was better than Beyonce? Nope, that's blasphemy - but still, it was flattering to think that you'd choose him.

"Tell me when you get bored, there's an ice-cream place just around the corner. We could grab a few bites." he offered - taking a leap of fate. "Sounds like a plan," you smiled and he could feel the crimson blush creep up his cheeks.

✧✧✧

This was something that he'd never forget. He couldn't wait to return to the paddocks and tell Sebastian that he had ice cream with THE Y/N L/N. "Is strawberry your favorite?" he asked, seeing you gobble down the large sized roll. "Yep, I put it in everything." you smiled.

It's been a month since you last tasted strawberry ice cream - you almost forgot how good it tasted. "I'm having a lot of fun, Dan." you complimented - seeing that the tip of his nose was coated with a chocolate syrup. "Darling, there's a little something -" you motioned.

He almost forgot how to move after hearing you call him that.

He flashed you his toothy grinned smile, before wiping the syrup off his nose. "So uhh, I'd like to get your number - so we can hang out another time." you asked, staring deep into his eyes.

Daniel realized that this was the chance of a lifetime. He almost reached for his phone to give you his number - but then he realized. He left his phone at home and he didn't memorize his number.

So instead of giving you his number - he came up with something that he'd regret until the day he died - or until the day he met you again. "No." he answered with confidence. "What?" your eyes narrowed, and he smiled again.

"I'll ask for your number the next time that I see you. To check if fate is really on our side." he explained and you could only smile back.

yournameupdates: Y/N L/N and Richard Madden are confirmed to be dating! Congratulations, she's finally found her Prince Charming.

liked danielricciardo and 102,192 others

comments

theyn_ln: He's certainly a Prince Charming! LOL - yournameupdates: 🥺

hennalova9: THEY LOOK SO PERFECT TOGETHER I'M SO HAPPY THAT SHE MOVED ON 😭

heysistersoul23: THIS IS ENDGAME

danielricciardo: You didn't hear it from me folks, but @theyn_ln is releasing a song tonight. 😉

liked by theyn_ln, maddenrichard and 1,291,192 others

comments

theyn_ln: Well, I rarely break promises.

maddenrichard: 🔥

formulalover91: DANIEL AND Y/N? THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS

theyn_ln: Message in a Bottle MV will be released MIDNIGHT EST. @danielricciardo I always believed in you.

liked by danielricciardo and 1,290,120 likes

comments

danielricciardo: meetup when?

maddenrichard: I'm very proud of you - theyn_ln: thank you mi amor ❤️

yournameupdates: According to some insiders, Richard Madden proposed to Lilly James this March 4, 2017. But where does that leave Y/N? We demand an explaination. @maddenrichard

liked by 429,390

comments

theyn_ln: I honestly don't know what's happening right now. Please give me space luv ❤️ - yournameupdates: Yes ma'am

thisloveis1989: The way that she saw a future with him and he threw it away. 1 YEAR TOGETHER AND HE THREW IT AWAY?

thismyrealspace9: the album finna hit

theyn_ln: You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson.

💜 Foolish One and Better Man out MIDNIGHT EST.

liked by danielricciardo and 1,291,002 others

comments

danielricciardo: The songs will be beautiful, but I hope that you're OK. - theyn_ln: Getting there!

taylorynkatyuniverse: FOOLISH ONE HURTS! BETTER MAN HURTS EVEN MORE 😭

icedamericano4: I see the permanent damage you did to me. RICHARD MADDEN YOU ARE PUBLIC ENEMY #1.

Daniel couldn't believe his fucking eyes. It was you.

"Y/N." his eyebrows softened, seeing the familiar posture. "Dan," you turned to look at him - inviting him with a warm embrace. "It's been 5 years since we've last seen each other," you buried your face in his shoulders, inhaling his scent of vanilla and chocolate.

"I thought I lost you for a second," he chuckled, completely forgetting about the drivers that were waiting for him back in the yacht. "Maybe this time you'll finally give me your number," you suggested and a nervous chuckle left his lips. "I'll be honest with you," he began.

"- I totally forgot my phone back at home the first time you asked me." he confessed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and offering it to you. "But I'm not letting you go this time." he smiled.

(2021)

theyn_ln: 7 years overdue, but here she is. My 2nd studio album 'folklore' will be out on September 23. Pre-order is available. You can also order @danielricciardo 's merch while you're at it hehe.

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 2,192,190 others

comments

danielricciardo: The album is 10000/10 - theyn_ln: glad to have ur opinion

carlossainz55: Are we invited to the listening party? - danielricciardo: Already happened buddy, the invitation must've gotten lost in the mail. 😭

maxverstappen1: 💜

theyn_ln: Officially Mrs. L/N-Ricciardo. 💍

liked by danielricciardo and 3,129,102 likes

comments have been restricted.

danielricciardo: Mr. L/N-Ricciardo is officially my job title.

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,291,092 others

comments have been restricted.

@lpab07 @ietss @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #tom hiddleston x reader

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0cta9on · 8 months ago

Note

https://video.twimg.com/amplify_video/1744333798341558272/vid/avc1/720x968/5FWrOIbGZIm_AKST.mp4

Can we get a kinda fluffy mile high Winter smut while you're in the air pretty please!

I love it when girls do the nose scrunch thing, it's so cute and Winter is no exception :))) This is unedited btw but I hope you like it regardless!!

“Oppa… Manager oppa…”

You feel Winter gently nudge your shoulder while you’re trying to sleep. Annoyed, your eyelids creep open, glaring back at her.

“What is it, Winter?”

After SM assigned you to manage their newly debuted girl group four years ago, you figured it would be an easy job, and at first, it was. Rookie Aespa was fairly easy to handle. They were all pretty timid at first, and you were more than welcome to help them navigate the treacherous idol industry. However, once the girls got used to you being around, they immediately turned into little monsters. Always running around and screaming, it was less a manager job and more a babysitting job at this point. You were constantly exhausted, even more so now that their skyrocket to fame meant constant overseas schedules.

“Oppa~” Winter groans cutely, trying to ease the tension. “I need… help.”

“Help with what? Just ask the flight attendant.” You turn your body away from her and shut your eyes. She vigorously nudges your shoulder, the sensation not unlike a cat pawing you to get your attention.

“I need a different kind of help,” she whispers, a lilt of a smirk in her voice. The tickle of her breath against your ear is enough to fully wake you up. Without another word, you grab Winter’s hand and take her to the nearest lavatory, the petite girl struggling to hide her excitement amongst all the sleeping passengers. One of the benefits of working with Aespa is that their sexual appetites are insatiable. Even Karina, who recently snagged herself a pretty successful boyfriend, still asks you to fuck her in the hotel after overseas schedules.

After ensuring that the coast is clear, the two of you sneak into the cramped airplane restroom. She pushes you against the toilet and straddles your lap. Even with no makeup on and a mask covering half her face, you still think she’s the prettiest girl in Aespa.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” You say, smiling up at her. Winter giggles, scrunching her nose at you.

“Are you just saying that to get into my pants?” She teases,” Because it’s working.” She tosses the mask away and gently smashes her lips against yours. Even at her horniest, Winter’s movements are always so soft. It’s what you like most about her. Unlike the other girls, who prefer rough, senseless fucking, Winter enjoys taking her time and ensuring both of you enjoy the experience of lovemaking.

The taste of her cherry chapstick fills your mouth - her signature flavor. Your hands wrap around her petite waist as she begins to grind her hips against your crotch, moaning into your mouth. The chorus of whimpers is music to your ears. As much as you would love to stay in this position forever, you couldn’t risk getting caught in here. With a quick zip, you discard her bulky jacket that hid the real treasure underneath.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” you say. Her cheeks turn a princess shade of pink from the mere sound of a pet name. Pet names are Winter’s biggest weakness - baby, honey, love, the simple utterance of a single word will make her melt into your hands.

“Oppa~” she giggles, biting her lip. Like a switch flipped on in her head, her body reacts to the word immediately by grinding harder on your crotch, your cock begging to be broken free.

You gently take her off your lap and unzip your pants while Winter watches you excitedly.

“You like it, baby?” You smirk as you rub your length in front of her eyes. Without a word, she lowers her leggings and plants her hands against the wall, presenting her plump ass towards you.

“Please, oppa~” She begs cutely. “I wanna feel your thick cock inside me.” Her eyes watch intently as move her damp panties to the side to expose her dripping honey pot. You lubricate your length with her juices, enjoying the way Winter’s face twitches as you tease her entrance. Finally, you firmly grab her hips and slowly impale her onto your cock. Her mouth forms an “O” as struggles to keep herself from moaning.

“O-oh my god… Y-yes…” She whispers, her breath shivering. Each thrust is slow, but deep, savoring the grasp of her velvet walls around your member. No matter how many times you fuck her, each time is always better than the last. Your fingers sink into her soft flesh as pure bliss takes over your body.

“I love your pussy, baby,” you whisper sweetly into her ear. “Out of all the girls, yours is my favorite.”

“R-really?!” Her eyes light up at the compliment, inadvertently increasing the grip of her walls around your cock. A groan escapes your lips as you thrust harder and faster into her wetness, forcing you to cover her mouth to keep her from moaning too loudly.

“Of course, baby. Fuck, I love you so much Winter.” The sudden confession sends the idol into a lustful spiral. She bucks her hips backwards, meeting your every thrust, while she sucks your fingers like a pacifier. You prepare to pull out as the pressure in your loins begins to build towards your climax.

“Winter, I’m about to cu-”

“Cum in me, oppa!” She exclaims way too loudly. “I want you to fill me up! My pussy is yours to claim!” Your mind is too far gone to give a damn about the consequences. With one final thrust, you slam your entire length down her pussy, shooting your cum as far down into her as you possibly can. Winter reaches climax at the same time, her juices leaking out of her full pussy and onto her thighs. That single moment is the closest you’ll ever be to Heaven, both mentally and physically.

Your body nearly crashes against the other side of the restroom as you pull out. Winter catches the combination of your fluids leaking from her pussy and brings it to her tongue, swirling it in her mouth.

“Tasty,” she comments, winking at you. Once both of you catch your breaths, you peek outside the restroom only to be met with some scrawny looking boy who gives you a knowing smirk. Sighing, you rummage through your wallet and slap a $100 bill in his hand.

“You heard nothing,” you say to him before grabbing Winter’s hand and leading her back to your seats.

#aespa #kim minjeong #aespa winter #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #winter x male oc #aespa winter x male reader #aespa winter x male oc #winter x male reader #smut #winter smut #aespa winter smut

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xoluvx · 6 months ago

Note

i know it was a long time ago but can i request euphoric and rough from the billie kiss list?

enjoy 💖

[ euphoric ] for a celebratory kiss

[ rough ] for a kiss fuelled by more than affection

“Congratulations,” you smiled at Billie as she clung to the award in her hand. She gave you a small side hug and you kissed her cheek courteously. Like people who haven’t seen each other in a long time. She lifted it slightly showing you with a goofy grin. Don’t get me wrong, she loved being recognized for her work, but going up in a crowd full of industry people always made her nervous. It certainly didn’t help that you’d been sitting next to her all night and barely uttered a word to her.

Things had been weird. She’s not sure exactly when they shifted, but it might’ve had to do with the Instagram stories and the headlines of her coming out. You were friends, not best friends. Just friends that were in the business. But close enough friends that she’d played you snippets of her music and vice versa, so she really wasn’t sure what was going on.

When the award show was over, your publicist led you away and Billie almost lost you in the crowd. Almost.

She managed to get away from Finneas and her parents, almost rushing toward the direction you disappeared into. “Hey,” she almost shouted. But you’d heard her. Turning you head, you looked at her confused. “Can I take you home?” She offered smiling slightly. “Okay,” you nodded. You’re not sure why you’d agreed. You probably should’ve gotten out of what you were wearing first, but she’d offer something you couldn’t refuse. “I’ll text you when I’m home,” you spoke to your publicist and she nodded giving your arm a squeeze.

“So is there a reason you didn’t speak to me all night?” Billie asked hand on the steering wheel. Don’t worry her family was able to get home, she ditched them, but she thought it was for an important cause. “Where’s your family?” You asked trying to avoid the question. “Probably home by now,” she cleared her throat.

The car stopped and you noticed you weren’t home yet, close. “Did I do something?” She asked turning the car off and facing you. You looked out the window, then you felt her hand grab your hand. You’d hugged and playfully touched shoulders and snuck glances, but you’d never held hands. Not in the way she was intertwining your fingers right now.

“I didn’t want your girlfriends to think I was pursuing you,” you confessed, your fingers limply resting on her hand. Billie chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t have girlfriends,” she cleared her throat. “Were you…jealous?” She whispered and this time you looked at her with disbelief.

“I am not jealous. I am upset that you didn’t tell me anything. That I had to find out through social media. That you clearly know I like you, Billie.” You stopped.

“You like me?” She whispered squeezing your hand.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” You remarked.

Billie shook her head coming close to you. “You can show me,” she replied inches away from your face. You gulped before bringing your hand up to the side of her face. Your fingers spread across her cheek coming down to her jaw before planting a kiss on her lips. You pulled away only to brush your noses before Billie, who was practically hovering over you in the car, laced her fingers around your neck coming in for a fiery kiss this time. A kiss that meshed lips and clashed noses. She bit on your lower lip gently and you opened your mouth a little bit wider and her tongue glided along your bottom lip until it was making contact with your own tongue. Your fingers now palming her hair. You didn’t come up for breath, not for a while. All you could hear were the sounds escaping through your lips and the pants escaping hers. The car filled with desire.

#billie eilish #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish request

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

Text

✶ Cellophane ✶

✶ Pairing: model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

✶ Summary: After discovering that your lover's attending one of the most important events of your career with another woman, a friendly face appears to save the day and steal your heart in the process.

✶ Word Count: 3.1k-ish

✶ Warnings: Discussion of the reader's struggle as a chubby babe in the industry/her everyday life. Sex is referenced but no smut scenes. Drinking, a lil sprinkle of strong language, & I think that's all.

✶ A/N: I started this out with two parts in mind 🖤 part two here 🖤 but now it'll likely end up being three so, like, ya know thanks for coming along for the ride.

This should be one of the happiest days of your life. Only a handful of models your size have ever gotten the chance to walk the red carpet during Paris Fashion Week. It’s not that you haven’t earned it. You've worked your ass off for every contract you signed. Poured blood, sweat, and tears into this even when people said a girl like you could never make it.

Every bit of struggle you've endured has led to this moment. You should be popping bottles and screaming, “Fuck you!” to anyone who doubted you. Instead, you’re sitting in the back of a black SUV in your designer gown choking back tears behind tinted windows.

The lights of a hundred cameras flash. Miniature supernovas bursting against the night sky. A bodyguard exits on the passenger’s side, a muscular man dressed in a nicely tailored black suit, and rounds the car to open your door. With shaky hands and weakened knees you try the breathing exercises your stylist taught you.

Place one hand on your belly. Inhale for 7 seconds. Exhale for 8. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. To let that breath out would be to set free everything you’ve been keeping inside. You can’t do it anymore. It’s too much to pretend that this doesn’t hurt.

Silently cursing Hyujin’s name you exhale for 1…2…3 and you’re right back to the morning when everything fell apart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper, afraid to wake the sun up any more than it already has. Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him beneath the blankets of a bed he’s made love to you in countless times this weekend. He leans into your neck, committing your scent to memory, his fingers caressing the softness of your love handles. “Like what?”

No one’s ever looked at you the way he does. Hyunjin’s obsessed with your beauty, fascinated by the elegance of your features. He strokes your cheek, his gaze laced with desire, and plants a trail of kisses up your throat. You inhale sharply at the little nibbles he sneaks in between, the air that fills your lungs somehow fresher when he’s around.

His hands trace the rise and fall of your hips, taking sensual handfuls of your plush. Your lips part and his mouth is at yours, sipping your dulcet moans like wine. He shifts his weight, preparing to turn you over when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates on the bedside table, sending tremors through the porcelain tea cup beside it.

“Ssh, no. Ignore it,” Hyunjin begs, climbing on top of you. A curtain of dark hair falls around you tickling your cheeks. He’s all you can see. All you can feel. Your phone quiets for a brief moment before it sounds once more, the buzzing seemingly more aggressive this time. “Ugh, what do you want?” you groan, snatching it from the table.

Seeing your manager's name, you click to open the thread of texts and immediately wish that you hadn't. Being with Hyunjin has been like a dream but with every word you read, you're beginning to wake up. You’re being dragged back to the real world kicking and screaming. It can’t be true.

“Hyunjin, who—um,” you say, your voice already trembling, “Who is this?” Handing him your phone, you slip out of bed and throw on your robe. Hyunjin sits up, that ethereal glow draining from his face when he’s confronted by what’s on the screen. An article announcing his date to Paris Fashion Week, a doe-eyed blonde rocking a certified 00 couture dress who most certainly isn’t you.

You wait for him to say something—anything—to stop your heart from breaking. He rakes his fingers through his hair, nervously chewing at the inside of his cheek. “I was going to tell you—” “Oh, you were?” you snap, snatching your phone back, “When? The week of? The night of?” “I was going to tell you once I figured things out! This isn’t as easy as you think it is! My agency, they have this idea of who they want me to be with and—”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. You already know what he’s about to say. Some variation of what you’ve heard every day in this industry. “And it’s just not me, right? Good enough to be the fat girl you fuck in secret but god forbid anyone sees you with me.” You laugh to keep from crying but tears rush down your cheeks anyway. Hyunjin jumps to his feet, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and rushing to your side.

Hearing you say those things. Seeing you cry. Knowing it’s because of him. It kills him. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t think that way about you. You know that.” He grabs you by the wrist, attempting to bring you into his arms but you push him away. “Do I?” you ask, storming off to the bathroom uninterested in his answer.

Locking the door behind you, you slump to the floor and cry into your soft cotton sleeves. The dream is over, Hyunjin’s pleas for you to open up drowned out to nothing. You’re fully awake now. And it fucking sucks.

Your mind springs back to the present where the bodyguard patiently holds the car door open for you. Minho reaches over to take your hand, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” He’s been such a sweetheart. Not minding your shyness when he picked you up from your hotel or the silence on the ride here. Having you in his presence does more for him than words ever could.

Long before Hyunjin entered the picture, you and Minho would hang out at the occasional after-party or industry event. You'd even developed a bit of a crush on him that you let go of after convincing yourself it was one-sided. The other models would always fawn over how attractive he was but they were much too scared to approach him. “I heard he’s mean” they’d say but they couldn't have been more wrong about him.

Over time you came to find that Minho was a sweet, charming man who was unhinged in the best way once he had a few drinks in his system. That’s how he asked you to be his date. Sipping one too many cocktails at a party neither of you wanted to be at, he’d mentioned that he didn’t have a date. Maybe since you didn’t either the two of you could go together.

“As friends, of course” he emphasized.

Of course.

Minho gently turns your head to look at him, careful not to ruin your makeup. “We really don’t have to do this. We can go get pizza or something.” “Go get pizza?” you laugh, sniffling a bit, “You wanna skip the most exclusive event of the year to get pizza?” Minho stares blankly at you, not understanding why that’s such a wild idea. “I mean, if it’s with you, why not?”

There’s a fluttering in your chest that you can’t control. The rekindling of something that can’t happen. “Ma’am,” the bodyguard says, gesturing for you to step outside. Minho leans forward shooting him a cutthroat glare that demands a few more seconds with you. “If you get nervous just look at me. I won’t leave your side. I’ve got you” he promises and, without question, you believe him.

You’ve walked a thousand runways in 6 inch heels but those first few steps outside of the car make you feel like a baby deer, your heels teetering between gravel. Minho takes your hand again, keeping you glued to his side as you maneuver through the crowd. The atmosphere is electric. Photographers battle each other for the perfect photo.

A sea of assistants and styling teams buzz around their clients, terrified of losing them in the crowd. In front of you, Minho's manager goes back and forth with yours. A low, passive aggressive exchange that no one else notices besides the two of you.

“I should’ve never let him pick her up. You’re late.”

“We were there on time. She was late coming out. This is on you.”

“On me? Bullshit!”

“I think they’re into each other. What do you think?” Minho whispers into your ear, making you crack your first smile of the night. You place a hand on his forearm, mulling it over. “Enemies to lovers vibes for sure.” A casually dressed woman approaches your managers, rattling information off to them for a second before you’re being herded towards the red carpet.

There’s no time to pace yourself. No time to breathe in for 7 and out for 8. You’re thrown in front of the cameras, effortlessly switching into model mode. You know how to sell a garment, striking poses that prove you were born to rock this dress. Minho’s no slouch, looking absolutely regal. His bone structure, a sight to behold from every angle, is particularly striking from where you stand.

He brings an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your side, “I’m really happy you came.” You feel a slight squeeze at your hip as your eyes meet and that fluttering in your chest sneaks back up on you. “Me too.”

Being invited to Paris Fashion Week is an honor in its own right. But being invited to an afterparty? That’s when you know you’ve made it. You’re in the inner circle now. One of the chosen few. A god in comparison to the mere ants who’ll scurry to worship you at the next event. At least that’s the way everyone acts and Hyunjin finds it nauseating.

He’s not one of them but he has to pretend to be. He has to smile and nod while people drone on about the most shallow, egocentric bullshit he’s ever heard. At least that’s what he usually does. Tonight he doesn’t have the energy to mask his irritation. How can he when you’re cozying up at the bar with Minho like he’s not even here?

Hyunjin’s gone out of his way to get you to see him, desperate for you to notice that he’d come alone, but you've been glued to Minho. You're in your element, radiating light, and it’s not fair that another man gets to bask in it. In you.

Is this why you’ve been ignoring his texts? Why every call has gone straight to voicemail? Blinded by rage, infinite possibilities racing through his mind, he’s charging across the room before he can think better of what he’s about to do. Spotting Hyunjin before he can reach you, Minho sneaks away from the bar to cut him off halfway.

“Hyunjin,” Minho grins, picking an invisible piece of lint from the younger man’s shoulder, “You weren’t about to do something stupid, were you?” Hyunjin slaps his hand away, in no mood for pleasantries. “If by 'stupid' you mean punching you then yes, I was.” Minho closes the distance between them, his face turning cold. “You wanna hit me? Do it.”

Hyunjin’s right hand tightens into a fist, the temptation to crack him in the jaw intensifying. Minho leans in, the tips of their noses nearly brushing. “Do it” he challenges, “Fight for her for once.” A group of designers walk by, one in particular has her eye on Hyunjin. Sensing that he’s being watched, he loosens his fist and takes a step back.

“Yeah,” Minho sighs, “Just like I thought. Your little threat was cute though.”

“Why are you doing this?” Hyunjin asks, packing all of the anguish of a scream into a whisper.

That question is an insult to Minho’s intelligence. As if he doesn’t know what he did. Hyunjin never would’ve known you existed if he hadn’t caught Minho scrolling your Instagram one night. Minho was lovestruck, falling for you more and more with each post he saw. Hyunjin’s hatred for him at this moment is nothing compared to what Minho felt when he found out the two of you were together.

“Why am I doing this?” he snaps, “Because I love her and you…you only love that she loves you.”

“Minho!” you sing, puncturing the steeled tension between them. You’d only turned away for a minute to chat up a friend. He couldn’t have gone too far. You scan the crowd, standing on the tips of your toes to find him. He reappears just as quietly as he vanished, making his way back to you. “Sorry, I had to…talk to someone.” There’s worry painted all over him. It’s in the crinkle of his brow and the clenching of his jaw. Something happened.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, stroking his jawline with your thumbs. He closes his eyes, your touch soothing enough to make him forget where he is. “It’s nothing. I’m just—you wanna get out of here?” Opening his eyes, he’s met with nothing but pure excitement. “Totally. You owe me pizza anyway!”

“Which one is this again?” you ask, leaning in to get a better look at Minho’s phone. “Doongie,” he answers, swiping to the next picture of an equally adorable cat, “And this is Soonie and Dori.” You take a bite of what might be the best slice of pizza you’ve ever had in your life, your lips forming a pout. “Ugh, they're so cute. I must cuddle them.” “You can if you want to meet them one day. Maybe. I don’t know.” Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, turning his attention to the crescent moon that watches over you, "Moon's pretty, isn't it?"

Seeing through this transparent attempt at avoiding his feelings immediately tunes you into those you’ve tried to suppress since the night he asked you out. This time last week you weren’t even sure you could survive the red carpet, too afraid of seeing Hyunjin to even consider coming. But now, standing here on this bridge in the picturesque Parc Monceau with a man so kind, so considerate, you can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Minho put everything into making sure this night was perfect for you. He stuck by you the entire time like he promised, doing whatever he could to keep you happy. You’ve never felt more special and it’s not because of some exclusive party invite or some absurdly expensive outfit. It’s because of him.

“I’d really like that…to hang out with them. And you.”

“You want to see me again?”

“Duh, of course, I do.”

Minho visibly deflates, bracing himself to be let down, “Just as friends?” You know you shouldn’t say what you’re about to but your heart has beat your brain into submission and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Friendship? Is that all you want from me?” “No, I want…” he pauses to catch his breath, choosing these next few words carefully.

You’re the cutest thing, standing here with your heels in one hand and pizza crust in the other. And you’re the only thing he wants. “Fuck it” he mumbles, kissing you with every drop of passion he’s held back since you met. It’s the type of kiss so steeped in longing that you taste it each time the warmth of his tongue tangles with yours.

He brings his arms around you, locking them in place to keep you close. You drop everything, your body going limp as the kiss deepens. “I want you,” he confesses, “Always wanted you.” That crush you had on him never quite went away. It's been here all along and is back with a vengeance. You can’t lie to yourself. There’s no use pretending. Not with the way he has your body aching for him, every part of you crying out for his attention.

You want him too.

Morning breaks and the birds are already perched at the open window, singing a song that stirs you from your sleep. You sit up in bed, taking in your surroundings. In the rays of dawn, Minho’s hotel room reminds you of something ripped from the pages of a fairytale. Everything has an iridescent sheen to it, almost as if someone’s cast a spell on it. Even Minho, still half asleep beside you, seems to be made of magic.

If you reach out to touch him would he disappear? And with him, everything you shared last night? Minho grabs your arm, drawing you back under the covers. You go without resistance, eager to be held by him. You lay your head on his chest, your fingers drawing figure eights on his skin. Minho presses his lips to your forehead, caressing your arm with the same care he’d so diligently treated the rest of your body to.

Your body is, of course, immaculate. A gift from some goddess he must’ve mistakenly appeased. To have made love to it time and time again, hearing his name spill from your lips in the hush of the night, is to have realized a fantasy he never thought would happen. But it’s this moment—your smile like honey as you poke your head up to glimpse at him—and every moment like it that he’ll hold closest to his heart when you’ve parted ways.

In Minho’s gaze, you find adoration but there’s much more to it than that. There’s infinite acceptance and with it a longing to know you inside and out so that no part of you feels unloved. Minho turns onto his side, easing down in to kiss you when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates at the foot of the bed and your stomach sinks.

You swear you can feel your intestines twisting themselves into knots. Not again. “I’ll get it,” Minho insists, reaching up to grab your phone. “Uh…thanks” you stutter, taking it with shaky hands. Clicking the button on the side, you see a string of texts from your manager.

It’s happening again. You’re tempted not to read them. This has only just started. You can’t lose it already. But you have to know. Opening the thread, you’re confronted with your worst fear.

Only, you aren’t…

The texts are business as usual. Flight cancellations, fittings for your next event, complaints about Minho’s “cute but annoying” manager. “Is everything okay?” Minho asks, yawning as he curls up next to you. You toss your phone aside, going back in for a kiss, “The best they’ve ever been.”

#stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #lee know x you #lee know x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

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m0llygunn · 1 year ago

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coco chanel (eddie munson x reader)

warnings: 18+! mature language, mature content a/n: sorry coco chanel for befouling your rule but it had to be done once i thought it wc: 1k

“Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and take one thing off.” “It is always better to be underdressed.” -Coco Chanel

Coco Chanel said that before you leave the house, you should look in the mirror and take one thing off. You like to follow the rule. It’s fun and you’ve never had any qualms about it before. It’s easily become a favourite part of your routine, finding the one thing you could do without. You love the idea of metaphorically tipping your hat to such an icon in the fashion industry. It's intrinsically rewarding, and an ode to how seriously you take your own sense of style.

So yeah, normally you’re content to do it. It’s all in the name of the classic fashion icon herself.

But not today. Today, you really like everything you have on. It took you forever to put together tonight’s attire, but you managed to assemble what you think is your best work yet.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks curiously, coming up behind you, fully dressed, shoes on, and keys in hand. Normally, you’re the first one ready, so this is a testament to how difficult your decision has been.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he looks at you with a raised brow, catching your gaze through the floor length mirror that you’ve been staring at yourself in for the last eternity as you’ve been perfecting your outfit, and even longer now that you’re trying to decide what you’re going to sacrifice to the fashion gods.

“I have to take one thing off.” You state, only catching his eye for a split second.

“Why?” He laughs. Normally, it’s an easy process, one that happens quickly, and has stayed privy to Eddie for that very reason.

“Because Coco Chanel said so.” You state.

“Who?” He laughs again, catching your eye in the mirror.

“Coco Chanel. Founder of Chanel? Fashion revolutionist?” You say, quirking a smile at his innocence of the fashion world despite him being one of the most fashion forward metalheads you know. He’s definitely not in the Coco Chanel genre of fashion, but his chains and rings are highly ranked in your personal tier of favourite looks.

“Not a clue.” He says, returning your smile.

Looking back at your outfit, you huff an exasperated sigh.

“She just had this stupid fashion rule that you should take one thing off before you leave the house. It’s to help with minimalism and not overdoing everything. She said it’s always better to be underdressed.” You finish, gently mocking her words purely out of your dwindling patience for yourself.

“Should I take something off?” He asks, jetting his chin out to rest it on your shoulder.

“No, you look good.” You answer, patting his cheek gently. It’s true, he always looks good. While he accessorizes heavily and puts clear effort into his image, you think he could wear a garbage bag and still pull it off. There’s just something about the way he carries himself that always has you applauding how good he looks— or maybe you’re just biased because you love him.

“You look good.” He says, hands grabbing your hips. “Always look fucking good. It’s sinful.” He says lowly, turning his face just enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

Still perturbed by your issue, you turn in his grip slightly, checking your outfit from the side. A useless action, it’s not like some excessive article of clothing is going to just appear on your backside for you to take off— but then your eye catches on a nearly invisible wrinkle on your hip. A practically non-existent seam lying just under your form fitting dress.

Maybe.

You look at your jewelry one last time before making your decision.

“Seriously, should I be taking something off too? This seems important.” Eddie asks, eyes still planted on you as his grip remains firm on your hips.

Fuck it.

You bend at the waist, sliding your fingers under the hem of your dress, grabbing at the thin layer of your underwear and pulling it down. Eddie’s keys drop to the floor in his excitement.

“Woah, woah— is this you telling me to take my pants off?” Eddie laughs, his hands pulling your dress up even higher, gathering it around your waist, putting your lower half on full display as he bends back, indulging himself in a heart-eyed glance at your ass.

“I'm sure Coco Chanel didn’t include underwear on her list of things to take off but I don't care.” You huff, mostly annoyed with yourself for following her stupid rule in the first place. “This is the only thing I’m willing to sacrifice.” You say, looking up at Eddie through the mirror as you step out of the lace thong and pick it up from the floor. He recognizes your annoyance but is too busy ogling and feeling the freshly exposed parts of you.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I should hate Coco Chanel or love her.” Eddie breaths, hands rubbing up your bare hips as he presses his hips into your behind.

“Seems like you love her if your dick pressing into my ass is any consolation.” You say, huffing a laugh as you watch his eyes trail over your body in the mirror.

“Fuck, love you more though.” He mumbles, lips brushing against your neck as he presses himself even closer into you, making you feel just how much he loves you.

“Sure. You would say that when you're hard.” You laugh, spinning to face him.

You bring your hands to the hem of your dress, shimmying it down, and despite Eddie’s quickly blown out pupils and the desperation already seeping out of his gaze, he moves his hands to let you.

“Wanna add something to your outfit.” You tease, dangling your underwear out in front of him.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll take those.” He smiles, snatching them from you and quickly tucking them into his back pocket.

continuation here

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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nouvxllev · 11 months ago

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the girl across your street || p5 (FINAL)

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: You spent half of your life waiting for the right person to just step into your life and take over your heart by storm, someone who would think of you when they see a shooting star, someone who'd paint canvases of your face so the world would know who considered you greater than the Mona Lisa, someone who cherished you oh so dearly. Now, you can happily say with all your heart, you found her.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: restating my statement on the previous chapter, this is the longest chapter of all lol

a/n: got a lovely suggestion from @ajortga (check out their stories btw, theyre amazing!) and an anon request for this part! i appreciate them and i wrote it to the best of my abilities.

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || masterlist.

'...I still got love for you

Your braids like a pattern

Love you to the moon and to Saturn

Passed down like folk songs

The love lasts so long...'

"There's my favorite actress of all time, Jenna goddamn Ortega!"

You shouted with your arms out, ready for a hug, while running over to Jenna in the freezing cold. She was clad in a puffy hoodie and comfortable jogging pants, and she had her beanie on, wrapped around her head along with her own pair of headphones, preparing for the impact of your body-crushing hug.

"Y/n, y/n! No, slow down!" she screamed before toppling down to the snowy ground along with you, your arms wrapped around hers as you laughed together in harmony.

She sat up, your body going in rhythm with hers, "You really love that line, don't you?" She chuckled before cupping your cheeks with her hands. She muttered a quiet sorry, noticing how you flinched at the cold touch.

"Hey, you've finally accomplished your goal. You deserve it, Jenna." You loved saying her name, no amount of terms of endearment could ever beat the love and devotion you had for it.

Jenna looked at you, a smile covering her face as her dimples took over and her freckles became more visible to you, a sense of hopeless romance reflected in both of your eyes before pulling you in with her hands and planting her lips against yours.

It hasn't been one day since you last kissed her and oh how you missed the taste of her lips on yours. It's like your problems melted away by her scent and the taste of her lipbalm.

Before you knew it, you and Jenna had become the IT couple of the year. It even surprised you how the world knew the both of you were dating in the first place considering how Jenna never really posts on social media about her personal life and neither do you. But with how paparazzis work and how Jennas fans work harder than the devil, you can see now why your relationship with Jenna got blasted online.

Now, the two of you were the global love team, featured in commercials, advertisements for certain brands, and even you trying a hand at acting. You occasionally made appearances as Jenna's love interest in a show, though your role was more of a background character, the audience always loved seeing you together with Jenna.

In each film you directed, Jenna was sure to be in it, and she always became the character you couldn't bear to kill off even with a gun to your head.

Jenna always assured you that it was perfectly fine if her character was killed off since she's an amazing actress who pulls all her stunts so flawlessly, but watching her act getting shot in the head, stabbed, or possibly tortured in the horror movies you were set to direct? Just right in front of you? Hell, you'd rather do that to yourself with no pay.

But of course, like Jenna always ranted to you about, the entertainment industry was ass. Jenna warned you after you guys made it official that you'll be under the spotlight for a couple months, or even years. You couldn't go outside for even a minute without seeing a paparazzi literally in the bushes with a huge goddamn camera as if you can't see them. But if that was the price to pay just for Jenna to be beside you at all times, you'd deal with it even if you'll have paparazzi surrounding your coffin soon.

"Y/n?" she said, waving her hands in front of you, as if the only thing keeping you grounded was your tight grip on her waist. "I have something to tell you."

"Yeah? Yeah, sorry, what is it?"

"I'm moving in with you."

"What?"

Damn, you were certainly not ready for that.

"If— If that's okay, of course—"

"It's always okay, it's more than okay, Jenna!" You took her hands into yours, shaking them with excitement. "When are you moving? Actually, why are you moving?"

"It's been months into our relationship, y/n. I don't like how you always drive to my apartment every day just to see me." She stood up, lifting you by your grip, "also, I'm moving next week. I still have a schedule to clean up on."

You stood up alongside her, walking backward while facing Jenna as she walked beside you. "But driving to your apartment is my favorite part of the day, Jenna."

She sighed, "Okay, you choose, driving miles to my apartment or waking up beside me?"

"Definitely the latter." You picked, way too instantly, pointing a finger at her and clicking your tongue while she laughs.

"See? It'll be fun. For the both of us." She ran beside you then took your hand, pushing her body to be against yours as you smiled under your breath. Oh, how you loved being in her presence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two of you approached the front door, kicking off your shoes while Jenna placed hers gently near the entrance. You turned on the lights as you headed for the kitchen, calling out, "You want something to drink, Jenna?" while noticing Jenna was still at the doorway.

She immediately turned the corner upon hearing your voice. A small smile played on her lips as she looked over at you, one of your hands on your hips as you scanned the refrigerator for ingredients. "I'm good. Thanks, y/n."

"Make yourself at home, Jenna. Since you are moving in," you said, glancing over your shoulder. You noticed Jenna looking around your house, finding the interior and atmosphere both familiar and yet vaguely new.

"You got it fixed?" she called out after noticing the DSLR camera you always loved and adored on top of the coffee table. You had it fixed for the holidays and for Jenna, of course, considering how both of you always enjoyed making videos with it in the past. You figured it was time to revive those memories.

"Yup! I had to. Its got my treasured moments in it." You approached her. After scanning your near-empty refrigerator, you took the DSLR camera in your hands and handed it to her. "I wanted to do a Christmas special on it, this time, with you on here."

"Christmas special?" She looked up at you, smiles and all. You remained the same for her—the one who always loved making videos, even if you were too scared to post them online or just didn't have a reason to. Nonetheless, you gave your best in those videos, and it truly brought out your happiest side.

"Didn't even know that was possible. I mean, no offense, but this looked like it got run over by a bullet train." She fiddled with your camera, turning it on and scrolling through the photos and videos. She was surprised to find old videos she hadn't seen the last time she turned it on.

You chuckled at Jenna's comment. "Okay, I'll admit it was pretty busted, but I found a technician who worked wonders on it. And about the Christmas special, well, it's going to be the first video I filmed in a long while."

"Long while? You haven't filmed something in this?" She looked at you, concern filling her eyes. She always knew you were the one in the friendgroup always recording a moment, even in the past she had heard, so why stop?

You sat down with her, "Ever since you left, I haven't been able to record. Even if I did, I'd just delete it anyway. Nothing is ever perfect without you, Jenna. I didn't realize how much it meant to me until I couldn't bring myself to do it without you." Your voice dwindled down into a whisper as you took her free hand that was beside yours, gently grazing your thumb on her palm. The vulnerability in your voice was something Jenna liked about you, how you spoke your mind whenever you were with her.

"I never knew," Jenna admitted, her fingers gently intertwining with yours. "I'm sorry, y/n."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips before you checked your phone for the time. "Okay, sappy moment over!" You immediately stood up, putting your phone in your pocket, "I have to go and buy some groceries. Wanna to come, Jenna?"

"I'll stay if it's alright." She assured you, chuckling at how fast you got over the moment so quickly.

"More than alright. I won't be long anyway." You headed for the doorway, putting on your boots and coat, your hand already on the doorknob until you heard Jenna call out your name.

"Y/n! You forgot something!" She called out, approaching you with headphones in hand.

You looked over at her, already smiling at the fact that she was more than an inch smaller when you put on your boots. "Oh, right," you said before cupping her cheeks and giving her a quick peck on the lips, completely ignoring the fact that she was already handing you your headphones.

You gave a little wave and a quick goodbye before going out and closing the door behind you.

"Your headphones—!" Jenna called out before you were already running across the street with your hands in your pockets. Honestly, she was more surprised with your ability to forget everything in your vicinity rather than how you walked so fast.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your voice from the camera echoed throughout your bedroom, the room where the both of you had confessed your love for each other. Jenna laid comfortably on your bed, the window opened as cold air flowed into the room, and your camera held up high by her hands. She was watching an old video you had filmed before, you and Jenna in her old home, filming a cooking video, she’d think you’d call it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Weeelcome to—hey Jenna, what should we name our cooking show?" You picked the camera up from the camera as it started recording. You went over to Jenna who was already prepping the ingredients needed, even she was in get-up, an apron and all. You contemplated if you could quickly go to the store and buy a chefs hat for her.

Jenna glanced up from her task, her eyes going to the camera before going to you. "Maybe just our names together? Jenna and Y/n."

You lowered the camera a slight bit, the perspective looking a little wonky, "But Jenna, that's so boring! We need more pizzaz." You looked at Jenna who was screaming towards the kitchen and the cupboards to check where her knife went.

"Then have you got something in mind?" She sharply asked, turning her heel around, "Have you, somehow, seen my knife? I swear it was just around the sink."

"Yeah, okay, great point, I have nothing as well." You placed down the camera on the counter, using a jar of whatever behind to keep it from falling down. "Here," you said with a cheeky smile as you presented the knife as if you were kneeling before a queen, and Jenna could only give you an unimpressed look.

You helped Jenna for a hot minute before turning to the camera once again, your full body being shown and a certain someone who was outside of view "Today, we're baking cookies—Jenna, c'mere." You held your hand to Jenna who wasn't in frame.

Jenna, still holding an unimpressed expression, walked over to where you were standing, joining you as you both appeared side by side in the frame. You appeared comically taller in the camera than Jenna, making you laugh just slightly before the shorter one punched you in the gut.

"Alright, anyway, let's bake some cookies!" You clasped your hands together, and Jenna could only look at you with eyes that conveyed love and adoration, wondering how you never noticed it.

Jenna picked up the camera and whispered, a little bit too loudly into the camera, "Side note, we have little to no experience at all at baking," she said, "We have absolutely no idea what we're doing!" You screamed from the background, already mixing in the ingredients, making her laugh before yelling that you made the wrong step.

"We're winging it, Jenna! God, who knew we could be such good bakers?" You exclaimed while mixing everything up, your hand was getting tired by how you whisked everything at such random paces, but Jenna didn't mind.

Everything was going smoothly, and perfectly Jenna could say so herself before her face scrunched up in confusion when you accidentally added salt instead of sugar.

Jenna's eyes widened, her warnings to stop you were a bit too late as you had already added half of the cup into the mixture. "Wait, oh fuck, y/n, y/n! That's a whole cup of salt!" She exclaimed, throwing her body against you as she tried to grab your arm that was pouring the sugar, but it was already too late.

You paused mid-mix, staring at Jenna, then at the bowl with a horrid expression. "Shoot!" You immediately, in instincts you'd defend until your dying days, dove your hand right into the mixture, as if your hand could magically pull out the tiniest ass bits of salt grains.

Jenna with all her might, restrained herself from bursting into laughter, "Okay, that's just so wrong, you can't just—!"

"Alright, alright!" You pulled your hands from the mixture, putting them up in the air in surrender as the gooey texture of incorporated eggs, flour, milk, and whatever was in there went down from your sleeves.

"Let's just make another batch." You turned to her, "let's just make another batch," you repeated.

"Y/n, we went through 3 batches already."

A moment of silence you both had as both of you looked at the batter you two worked hard on. Before a playful fight completely outraged from the both of you when you started to hand paint Jenna's face from the batter, creating silly drawings on her face as she ran away from you armed with a spatula to fend you off.

In the end, the both of you completed your task of baking cookies while using the same batch, and, well, they turned out... nice. On the camera, they looked really nice, and they kinda even smelled good from afar.

"Annnd, it's done!" You exclaimed, and Jenna tilted the pan slightly to give the camera a preview of the cookies.

After a bit of banter from the both of you, a minute passed by, and you two were holding cookies.

"They look... edible enough to eat anyway," Jenna said, inspecting them before looking towards you with your own cookie. "Cheers?"

"Cheers!" you echoed, holding up your cookie to Jenna's in a mock toast. The camera captured the moment as both of you took a bite simultaneously. And how your faces contorted into disgust.

"Y/n, just take it out, even I can't swallow this."

"Okay, good choice, oh god—!"

The last thing the camera recorded before it fell was you and Jenna quickly spitting out the bites into a nearby trash can and rushing over to the sink, pushing each other as you tried to turn the faucet on and rinse off the disgusting taste you both had in your mouth.

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Jenna laughed heartily as she scrolled through the numerous videos you both had filmed over the past months with the camera in her hand. She couldn't believe that your entire bond had been created over this camera—how you wanted to become a director and how she wanted to become an actress. It was surprising how well the both of you fit with each other, down to your interests.

She kept watching the videos you had filmed for the both of you. Jenna even went out of her way to roam around your room, looking for memory cards to see what other videos you both had done. That was until she opened a certain drawer in your table lamp, tucked away all the way to the end. She couldn't have spotted it if she hadn't opened it all the way.

Handwritten notes, letters, wilted flowers, keychains, an abundance of printed polaroid photos, and photos in general that you had kept, intending to give them to Jenna. These mementos had been tucked away in this drawer for months on end.

She didn't want to pry, but a part of her was drawn to the crumpled letter that stood out among the rest. When she opened it, it had pen scribbles and stains from what she assumed were tears.

The letter read,

To my Jenna To my dearest To Jenna

To the girl across my street, (9/27/2020)

You shouldn’t be the one I should be writing a love letter to at 1 in the morning, even if I know in my bones I’ll be writing letters for you until I rest for eternity. You shouldn’t be the one that keeps me up at night wondering if you’ll ever come back until now. You shouldn’t be the one that I subject my undying love to, the love that I kept reserved all these years, and yet you arrive and suddenly, all of it is yours. You shouldn’t be the one for me at all. But you are, and I hate that you’re everything I want in my life. I shouldn’t be mad at you Jenna. In fact, I love you. I love you so much, it hurts as I write this. I love you so much, I can’t look at myself anymore wondering what I would’ve done to keep you moving away from my life. Ever since I saw you, I felt like nothing in my life mattered more than being with you, even if I knew that was impossible. Well, until you suddenly picked me up after a horrible fall. I knew from everyone in my town that you were the most private person, you never opened up to them even if they always kept coming to your doorstep with leftovers from their family dinner. You told me that it was a bit overwhelming, seeing your fridge pile up everyday with everybody’s leftovers, you even got a lollipop from a kid. From our conversations, it was those random moments you told me from your life that I cherished the most, even if it was just something you remembered out of the blue. I fell mad in love with you, head over heels. No one would know falling in love with a great force other than me with you. I realized that when you invited me to your family's house for Christmas after you found out about the relationship I had with my parents, since then, I knew the love I had for you was soon going to drown me until my heart was filled with your name.

The way your family welcomed me with open arms as if I was someone, finally someone a part of something, I couldn’t bear to walk away anymore. The way you had introduced me to your siblings and cousins with a smile that I could only mistake for as a star, the way you had made me a part of your family, the way you made your family love me the way they loved you. I hate it, Jenna. I hate how your eyes brought revelry upon those who are grieving, how your touch brought forth the saints buried in the hearts of sinners, how your laugh would make every great poet struggle to illustrate the sound of your voice, how your soul brings every angel and saint to shame. I hate how you made me so happy, how you made the happiest side of me shine. I hate how I hate none of these things at all. I love everything about you, I can’t just pretend like I don’t. I love you, Jenna. I love you with all of my heart, each bone in my body yearns for yours, your very being became the muse of every thought, my soul is eternally yours forever, why did I let it be that way? And why until now, It’s still yours to keep? To rip apart? Yours to silently remind you that there’s someone out there who had their heart programmed to beat for you, and for only you. The day you left, I only realized how you were so important to me. It’s maddening how that was the first thought came to mind, how I fell so in love with your soul I completely forgot how you left me in pieces. How you didn’t text me, how you didn’t call me, how you didn’t even do the bare minimum as knocking on my door or maybe leaving a note to say you were leaving entirely. It’s been exactly a year since you left, and I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever since. A part of you still stayed with me, or maybe I just looked for you everywhere, hoping one day you’d appear beside me like nothing ever happened and grace me once again with that smile of yours that would last me a lifetime. Everything reminds me of you, Jenna. Every place, every home, every street, every film, every note that I hear from a song you’d used to sing to me with your stupid guitar you always wanted to master but never got the chance to. I’m in love with you, Jenna. I’m so in love with you to the point I can’t say it to your face. I’m yours forever more, and I hate that I am.

From, y/n. Happy Birthday, Jenna.

I wished I confessed to you more earlier.

"Jenna! Jenna!" A voice she loved, loved now more than anything, quickly pulled her out of her thoughts, banging against her own door. She pulled herself up from your bed, running towards the door in a hurry while holding the letter in her hands.

Jenna unlocked the door to see you. The love of her life, someone who wrote thousands of letters for her every day since she left, someone who had the stupidest idea to spend every inch of her savings to go buy her the headphones she always wished to own, someone who was now standing in the freezing cold.

"Jenna— Oh, Jenna, I forgot my headphones, and—and it was freezing like shit. God, I never knew there was a snowstorm coming in. I'm sorry I took so long I—"

You were cut off mid-sentence by her, who pulled you by your collar into a passionate kiss. The warmth of your house, the warmth of Jenna's body against yours, the warmth of her lips that brought every inch of your body to heaven was everything you needed to calm down. If only you had paused for a minute to take a glance at Jenna when you were rambling, you could only see her eyes in a lovesick gaze for you, you could see how much she loved you, you could see how she was everything you perceived her to be.

"Y/n," Jenna whispered, her voice a soft melody that resonated in the quiet room as you wrapped your arms around her waist.

You smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Jenna's ear. "What… What was that for?"

"I love you," she whispered under her breath. "I love you," she added, one more time, as if you were going to disappear if she didn't.

"I love you too, Jenna. What's going on?"

"I just—I just love you so much, y/n. I always said I love you, but never added so much or expressed how much I loved you." Jenna was always straightforward when it came to talking. It was her nature, her style of sentence, how she spoke aloud, the quiet confidence she had whenever she spoke to someone; it was one of the characteristics she had that made you fall in love with her. But now, she couldn't express herself in the way she wanted to. She did, but it only fell short. The amount of love she had for you was something she could never express properly, even with a dictionary in her hands, it couldn't be possible.

It only took you a minute before figuring what had happened.

"You... you read the letter?"

"Yes—Yes, I read the letter, y/n. All of it."

"Well, what'd you think?" You almost thought that you had discarded the letters you wrote for her, but you kept the most important one of all.

She pulled you into a soul-crushing hug, "I love you. I'm sorry, I just love, love, love, you, y/n. I'm sorry if I'm not enough for you."

"Jenna," you whispered, gently pulling back to look into her eyes, "You don't know how much you're more than enough for me. You don't know how much your smile just means everything to me, good or bad, and your love is everything I've ever wanted. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jenna's gaze softened, and a relieved smile played on her lips. "I'm just afraid that my love might fall short, you know? That I couldn't express it the way you do."

You cupped her face, your thumb gently grazing her skin, admiring her freckles. "Your love is perfect, Jenna, it's yours. I don't need grand gestures or expressions to make me feel happy. I just need you—your love, your presence, and everything that makes you who you are. Just, please, don't change that just for me—or for anyone."

The both of you kissed, the middle of the night while the orange light coming off from the kitchen flickered. A kiss, you knew, lasted only for a second. Or maybe even a few seconds, but this kiss lingered like a memory that lasted forever, a picture that was photographed and kept in a sealed case, stars that die but explode into a gorgeous nebula, a kiss that's worth for a thousand lifetimes.

Afterward, both of you watched the videos that you had filmed whenever and wherever. Jenna noted your habit of bringing the DSLR everywhere, capturing snippets of your private life where she wasn't in the frame. However, you quickly threw the camera against the headboard when she came across the holy grail of you trying out some skateboard tricks, where you horribly fell and got various scars on your leg.

In that moment, both of you probably knew you were going to stay with each other no matter what happened, or what challenges you faced. The way you both kissed then, in the doorway, was the most romantic kiss you had shared in your entire life. Probably not the most ideal of spots to decide to marry someone, but then again, who was the insane one who dated the girl across her street?

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Invisible string.

That was the saying for those who believe there's a string of fate binding people who were destined to be together, or for anyone who was in love for that matter. It's a sweet thing, you can say, considering how you're one of the people who truly believed in it. You spent half of your life waiting for the right person to just step into your life and take over your heart by storm, someone who would think of you when they see a shooting star, someone who'd paint canvases of your face so the world would know who considered you greater than the Mona Lisa, someone who cherished you oh so dearly. Now, you can happily say with all your heart, you found her.

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a/n: aaahhh this series has come to a close, thank you for all the love and support! now i can finally do another series with JO's characters or maybe just oneshots. (i have a fuck ton of drafts.)

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

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seramilla · 5 months ago

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I ended up binging all your posts about Vaggie being related to the Carmine's and ended up having a dream about all the wedding prep, including Carmilla actually meeting Charlie and thanking her for loving and helping Vaggie heal and grow from her time as an exorcist

I'm sorry, but this gave me ideas, so have some fluff instead of angst on this goddamn page for once.

Charlie Morningstar paces back and forth outside Carmine Industries for several minutes before she even thinks about touching the buzzer. A myriad of thoughts race through her mind as she steels herself for what she came here to do. Vaggie is distracted, back at the hotel helping Alastor with some kind of workshop or other for their guests. She has at least an hour until her presence is needed again -- plenty of time, she hopes, for a meeting with Carmilla Carmine.

Ultimately, it's not her who buzzes herself in, but one of the other Carmine girls. Charlie literally falls over in surprise as the metal door clanks open, but she manages to right herself before face-planting on the concrete outside. Odette, if memory serves, is standing there with a confused expression on her face, cocking an eyebrow at her and turning her head 30 degrees like a curious puppy. Charlie clears her throat, blushing profusely at her almost-fumble.

"Od-Odette! Hello! Did I get that right? Um, yeah, hi! I'm here to see Carm--Ms. Carmine. Is she home--at work--do you live or work here? I guess I don't know. I'm sorry, that's a dumb question, I just--!"

Odette chuckles. "She's here. Are you looking for an audience with her?"

Charlie lets out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Yes! Ma'am! Yes, ma'am! Oh, I'm sorry, do you mind if I call you ma'am? Is that weird? Should I call you something else?"

Odette chuckles again. "Odette is fine. No need for any formalities, your highness. You know you're welcome here. Follow me."

"Thank you so much! I'm coming!"

Charlie talks Odette's ears off the entire time they're walking toward Carmilla's office. Up a huge flight of stairs, around a corner, and all the way down a long hallway, Odette is given a crash course on all the current events happening at the Hazbin Hotel. She could probably give a lecture on the topic, given how good Charlie has gotten at really drilling home all the highlights of her redemption program.

When they finally stop in front of Carmilla's office, Odette gives Charlie's hand a firm shake, saying, "It's been a pleasure, Miss Morningstar. Now I must return to my tasks for the day." Then, without another word, she's gone again.

Charlie pauses at the ornate door leading to Carmilla's office. It's tall, and imposing. She's the princess of Hell, goddamn it! Something like this should be super simple for a daughter of Lucifer Morningstar!

Shaking all her misgivings out of her head, she says to herself, "Right! Let's do this!" before knocking firmly on the door three times. After a moment, a muffled yet prominent, "Come in!" reaches her from the other side. Taking another deep breath, Charlie opens the door, and steps inside.

Carmilla Carmine is at her desk, working away at a stack of files and papers that are practically as tall as Charlie is. Other stacks, she assumes the finished ones, are scattered in boxes around the floor at Carmilla's feet. Charlie doesn't even begin to know where to look -- the office is so busy. Instead, she ignores it, and smiles at Carmilla when the other woman's gaze meets hers.

"Charlotte!" Carmilla says, a happy lilt to her voice. She immediately stands and greets the princess with open arms. One of the privileges of dating the daughter of Carmilla Carmine is she's often privy to the woman's more maternal side. A notion that is quite welcome, as far as Charlie is concerned. It's nice, feeling that kind of maternal love again -- it's been so absent from her own life since her mother...left all those years ago.

"It's so nice to see you, Charlotte. Please, have a seat. What do I owe the pleasure of your company today?"

Carmilla gestures Charlie over to the plush couches on the opposite side of her office. The furniture has been upgraded since the last time she's been here. Charlie obliges and takes a seat. Carmilla joins her.

Charlie debates whether to break through her own misgivings with small talk, but decides better of it. She came here with a purpose today; she only has so much time before she's needed back at the hotel, so she decides to just get to the business at hand.

"Well," Charlie starts, immediately fumbling all the words she'd so diligently practiced earlier. That's so like her. But she won't be deterred! She grips the fabric of her pants tightly in both fists and continues.

"As you know, Vaggie and I are coming up on our 5-year anniversary in a few months. It's a big milestone for us, and I wanted to do something really special for her..."

Charlie pauses, waiting to see if Carmilla will interject. The older woman is as poised and stoic as ever, waiting patiently for Charlie to continue. Charlie wishes she could better gauge what the woman is thinking at the moment...but it can't be helped. Charlie's not a mind reader. Nowhere else to go now, but forward!

"...Anyway...um...what I came here to do today was...uhh...oh, fuck, why is this so hard?"

"Take a breath, Charlotte. It's okay."

That definitely is not helping Charlie's nervousness at all, being reminded to breathe, like she doesn't have two perfectly capable lungs, all her own. Carmilla is still looking at her with that face, like everything is fine. How does she know it's fine? She doesn't even know what Charlie's going to say!

Breathe, Charlie!

"God, okay. Hoooo boy. Carmilla. I came here today to ask...to tell you...that I love Vaggie very much. More than anything in the world. My life was not complete until she literally fell into it, and every day since then has been more rich, more fulfilling, and more full of joy than I can ever put into words. I'm telling you this because I'm going to...I want your blessing when I... I'mgoingtoaskhertomarrymeandIwantyoutotellmeit'sokay! Okay?"

The last part comes out of Charlie's mouth in a flurry of words. She lets out a sigh of relief, thankful she was able to get it out. She hopes Carmilla had understood her. Thankfully, the sparkle in Carmilla's eyes tells her that she has, and so much more. Before she can even protest, Carmilla pulls Charlie into a hug that's so tight, her spine nearly bows from the force of it.

Shit, this overlord's strength is nothing to sneeze at.

"You don't need my permission, Charlotte," Carmilla says, squeezing Charlie even harder around the waist. Charlie squeaks.

"I...I don't?"

"Of course not. You're already family. And Vaggie's a big girl. She can make her own decisions. But if you want my blessing...then of course you have it. I can never repay you for protecting her, loving, her, and watching over her when I couldn't. I would love nothing more than to welcome you into our family...officially."

"You, too!" Charlie says, not wanting to diminish the other woman's contribution to Vaggie's healing process. "Also, I almost asked my dad if he would do it, but...I want you to be the one to walk her down the aisle, if she says yes! I know she would want that!"

Carmilla can't hide the fact that she's the one crying now. Charlie sees her trying to hide the tears behind the hand in front of her face, but the cracks are breaking around the older woman's facade like a dam trying to overrun its banks. She smiles at Charlie, and nods.

"Of course I will. I would love nothing more than to give my girl away to you."

Charlie can't wait for the day she can pop the question to the love of her life. She's already bought the ring, got the date planned with Asmodeus, and booked an opulent night full of food, dancing, and every other pleasantry the Lust ring has to offer. She vows to make it the best night of Vaggie's life, second only to their wedding day, if she accepts Charlie's proposal.

Beyond that, all Charlie can see is happiness. She never dreamed as much for herself. But it's so close, she can almost grasp it. She leaves Carmilla's that day feeling more light and airy than she has in a while, and more full of conviction that she has the strength to see this through.

She deserves it. Vaggie deserves it. Carmilla deserves it. Her heart is so full of love and raw tenderness, she could practically burst.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #carmilla carmine #odette hazbin hotel #chaggie #ask #anon #fan theories #lucifer morningstar #helluva boss #asmodeus helluva boss #vaggie carmilla related au

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thickness-protection-program · 1 year ago

Note

Pls summarize Naruto from start to finish

Ok strap in. A magical alien milf lands on earth and falls in love with an ugly human man and they fuck. Humans ain't shit and they tried to kill her for being a girlboss but after planting a giant tree and eating the magical fruit she easily killed a bunch of them including her ain't shit ass man too. Turns out she was preggers during the onslaught and gave birth to twin boys. Fast forward many years and they find out that she's a murderer bc she just kinda left the dead bodies in the backyard. They're like oh shit we gotta kill her now and she's like oh word? I gotta kill my son's now. They battle, she becomes a Kaiju, but the sons win. One of them becomes God on earth and the other becomes a security guard on the moon watching over milf mom. The moon was created as a prison. God then has two sons, one who's just an average Joe and the other is an edge lord. God is like only one of you will get my powers and so Joe and edge lord play rock paper scissors and Joe wins. Edge lord isn't happy about it so he makes anger his only personality trait for all eternity. Those two die but their spirits are constantly reincarnated into bisexual men's bodies who are constantly at war with each other when they just wanna fuck each other. It all leads into being reincarnated into Naruto (who's an industry plant and nepotism baby) and Sasuke (an alpha male podcaster that serves cunt) who fight to the death, fight to the death, and kiss a lil bit. Milf mom comes back to life bc the babadook makes a cameo appearance but Naruto and Sasuke play the uno reverse card and send her ass back to the pit. They fight a lil more and kiss a lil more but unfortunately they both lose an arm in the process but that doesn't stop them bc love wins! They saved the earth (oh yeah war #4 is going on this afternoon) and they end the cycle of hatred that plagued all their reincarnates so now they officially have minds of their own. It took 16 years for them to develop agency. The end.

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zh-lele · 2 years ago

Text

Playing Games

You didn't yet see my worth, so you try to play me. But I was so in love that I just got a little bit too complicated.

▪︎ Summary: A chaotic New Year's party makes you rethink the kind of relationship you've been having with Donghyuck for the past few months. He is a player, but you love the game.

▪︎ Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x female reader

▪︎ Genres: friends with benefits, smut, angst

▪︎ Word count: 7.4k (I'm so sorry.)

▪︎ Warnings: explicit sexual content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; profanity; substance consumption; toxic behavior. (Please let me know if I missed something.)

Listen to the playlist here. | Click to see Hyuck's moodboard.

Author's note: This is my secret santa gift for @neochan as part of the event hosted by @neowritingsnet . Hey Sam, I was your secret santa! Happy holidays and I hope you can enjoy the fic :) Didn't have the time to get it proof read so I'm really sorry about that.

Lolo.

1. Forget about it, forget about him

"How are you surviving the New Year's party?"

Your question takes Rina by surprise, since you see her get a little scared when she hears your voice from behind. But, seeing that it's only you, it doesn't take long for that beautiful smile that characterizes her to reappear.

"It's going really well, I think." She answers by returning her gaze to the front, where your group of friends is preparing for the main event of the night.

It's exactly two minutes to midnight. You know this not only because of the gigantic TV screen in the living room of the mansion—that has been broadcasting the countdown to the new year in different parts of the world since you arrived at the boys' house— but because you can also feel it in the air.

Aeri is helping Mia bring the glasses into the living room and set them ready for the cocktail party. Donghyuck is arguing with Jaemin because he's not helping Jisung with the Champagne bottles he's too scared to open. Chenle's laughter can be heard from the kitchen followed by some groans, and Mark telling him "it's not funny at all". You only find out what the mess is about when Jeno comes and lights up the room with his eye smile, telling the guys that Mark splashed his own eyes cutting the lime for the margaritas, and now he can't see anything.

You and Renjun share a cigarette on the balcony, now with Rina on your side.

"You know things are about to get weird, right?" Renjun asks the girl.

"Yeah, the other girls warned me you have this tradition going on," she starts. "No one leaves without a kiss from your New Year's parties." And her face flushes red as he finishes the sentence with his eyes locked on Donghyuck, who is finally pouring the champagne into the glasses with a smirk, looking as handsome as ever.

The action doesn't go unnoticed by you or Renjun, so you decide to push the new girl a little more. "You've got someone in mind?"

"Well…" She laughs, and without taking her eyes off him, she drops it: "I might go for Donghyuck."

The clock strikes midnight and the cheers are heard, both inside the mansion and outside in the street. As you approach inside to celebrate and drink the champagne together with your friends, you are surprised and intercepted by your friend Aeri, who plants a quick New Year's kiss on your lips before throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms and doing the same with him. You just laugh it off and empty the drink in your glass to set your eyes on a different pair meters away from you.

Rina had been the newest addition to the group, and obviously, before inviting her to the mansion and one of the chaotic New Year's Eve parties, someone had to warn her how things were. It was only fair that Rina was aware of an agreement made years ago between you and your friends: everyone gets at least one midnight kiss during the new year celebration. She was told just enough to try to survive the night.

The mansion is the boys' rented house and private studio. All of them have been making good amounts of money in the music industry lately, gaining popularity really fast, and it's a privilege that she isn't paying anymore to enter a party in the mansion.

It wasn't her fault that no one told her that something has been going on between you and Donghyuck for months, and that you were hoping that he wouldn't kiss anyone but you that night. When you didn't tell Rina anything as soon as she said she wanted to go for him, you were only waiting to test Donghyuck.

Because if you think about the situation, it was all his fault, honestly.

Everyone in your friend group knows Donghyuck and you have been exclusively seeing each other for months now. Your girl friends know very well he isn't afraid to fill your ears with sweet things and words of affection when you are alone. Yet, he won't show you around and would act like you're no more than friends when there's someone else.

You still don't know what his problem is, but you are growing sick and tired of crying for nights because he won't talk to you. Instead, he would have you thinking you did something wrong to upset him or that he doesn't care about you anymore, to then come and act like he didn't just ignore you for days. But you aren't going to take your anger on Rina.

You are going to do it on Donghyuck later, definitely.

Lee Donghyuck, or one of the most recognized and well paid r&b artists from this new movement of kids coming up in the industry, making some of the best music of the continent independently. But for the ones who know him privately, he’s just a kid wasting a lot of talent and potential, who's only got a big ton of pressure on his shoulders and stacks of money he doesn't know how to spend more than on parties, alcohol, and drugs.

He’s also the boy you've been chasing and trying to get with for years. And now that you have him, you can't lose him just like that.

If he kisses Rina right in front of you and everyone else when he refuses to do that with you, that's going to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

The white lights go down until it is only the colored lights hanging from the tall ceiling, and the Christmas lights taped on the wall that illuminate the room very dimly. You can appreciate some of your best friends still exchanging their midnight kisses. You can also spot Jaemin in one corner pouring out one margarita after another, and Donghyuck with Rina huddled against the wall in the other corner of the room. The millisecond he makes eye contact with you and smiles all the way from there, then returning his attention to Rina is actually what sets you on fire. Not in the way you would want to, though.

You don't need to stay there to know Donghyuck's gonna try and play you dirty. And you won't give him the satisfaction of standing there alone, watching him kiss with someone else.

You should have listened to your friends when they told you over and over again that Donghyuck is and always will be a player, not worth all your tears. You should have also heard your other side of consciousness telling you "don't do it, don't go there." But it's too late to regret it when you take the cup from Jaemin's hands and drink all of its contents, then grab the bottle of tequila and Jaemin's hand and drag him with you to the kitchen.

You know Donghyuck like the palm of your hand. You could try and play his games too.

When you set the tequila bottle on the kitchen counter and sit yourself on it to grab Jaemin by the collar and put him between your parted legs, the mischief reaches his eyes and reflects on the smirk of his mouth.

"I feel like we're not here for more margaritas," he says looking into your eyes and placing his hands on your thighs.

You give the bottle one last swallow before confirming his suspicions.

"You're right. Happy New Year."

Kissing Jaemin has always been a pleasure, in every sense of the word. His kisses are as lazy as he is, and feel as full of affection as if you were in love with each other, which makes you think about how there is no doubt why everyone falls in love with him so easily.

His lips taste like salt and lime, and explore yours sweetly until he opens his way to the inside of your mouth. There, the salty taste is replaced by a sweetness that contrasts with the rest of his movements. His hands caress your legs, look to get you closer to his body, squeezing your thighs and butt and making you approach the edge of the counter, but never completely losing that calm that characterizes him. Jaemin is the perfect definition of a tease.

"Thought we wouldn't be doing this anymore." You feel the vibrations of his vocal chords under your lips that leave his neck wet with kisses. When you don't answer him, he cups your face separating you from his skin, and makes you look him in the eyes. "Aren't you and Hyuck together?"

Well, that's a hard question. Because it seems like it depends on the situation and the mood. When Donghyuck feels like treating you like his girlfriend, you really feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He's sweet, caring, and funny. He comes to your home to share dinner with your family and spend the night, and you do the same at his. He even let you spend the entire Christmas day at the mansion—and you know that's something reserved for the couples only. You had morning sex, breakfast together, opened presents, and even cuddled while watching movies until it was dark outside.

You could say you are together only when he's feeling like giving you his attention. The rest of the time, you only try to figure out his feelings: when he will disappear for an entire day, won't talk to you for a week or will get mad if you go partying without him, but then flirt with other girls right in front of you.

Following that line of thought:

"No, we are not together." You finally tell Jaemin.

He only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before moving closer to your ear to whisper. "That's a shame, because I think this would be much hotter if you were."

It sends a shiver down your spine and settles a strange feeling in your stomach at the same time. It's kind of frustrating, the way no matter how much you want to get Donghyuck out of your head and just have a good time with other boys, you can't get yourself to do it.

Donghyuck doesn't need to know, but it's not the first time you try forgetting you're mad at him with a little help from others. And that's the thing about it: that you only ever get to try, because the guilt takes over you despite how he has neglected and hurt you, and you end up going back to him over and over.

That unsettling feeling washes over you like a bucket of cold water, so you have to separate Jaemin from your lips before apologizing and rushing out of the kitchen to find your friends.

2. I think I wanna kiss you, right here in front of everybody

"You know what's your problem? You're always being too nice." Mia leans on the balcony railing with a joint between his lips, and stretches an open hand to you. The lighter lands on her palm and she's quickly lighting up the rolled paper, passing it to you after a couple of deep puffs.

"Well," you start exhaling the smoke. "That depends on who's saying it."

"You just need to fuck someone else, not letting remorse or sad feelings get in between. Just to know if you really wanna stop seeing Hyuck after it or not."

"But you don't understand," the lump in your throat can be noticed through your shaky voice, and the tears begin to threaten to fall from your eyes so Aeri—who has positioned herself in front of you and is covering you from the rest of the people inside the party—takes your hand and gives it a little comforting squeeze. "I've liked him for so long. I really, really only want to be with him."

"You really want to be with someone who's been making you cry for months now? I remember you having more sad than happy nights," Mia points out once again. You quickly dry your tears with your hands before they keep falling. "Even on fucking New Year's. New Year's party and you're crying over this dickhead." She says in disbelief.

"Must be some reaaally good dick if it got you this down bad."

The three of you manage to laugh at Aeri's comment, thankfully. You maintain the order of the round and pass the joint back to Aeri.

"It is," you confess, blowing out the smoke. "He really is that good."

"Does he at least make you cum?"

"Not all the time—"

"Then you have to leave him, sister." Mia interrupts. There's a smile on her face now that indicates she's just half-joking.

"But he's seriously so good!" You shake your head in frustration followed by an exasperated sigh. It's embarrassing to say it out loud, but your friends had known you for years, and they know that this talk and all the shed tears won't change a thing. "You know I'm not leaving him."

"Yeah, I know this conversation is fucking pointless." Mia's face is illuminated by the light from her cell phone when she takes it out ready to play one of her latest obsessions. Cats Café, a new game that locks her up in your bathroom for hours, playing seated on your toilet and leaving you and Aeri hanging out in the living room of your house, just the two of you during girls' nights. "Just please, try to keep in mind how bad you've had it the last few days the next time he tries to sugarcoat you with his words."

"You wouldn't be having such a bad time if you were going out with me, instead of him."

"Aeri, you literally have a boyfriend." You tell her with a roll of your eyes.

"And you literally took my midnight kiss in front of him, with no complains," she replies to you. "And Mark told me he wouldn't care if I ever wanna try something with a girl!"

"Wait," you observe Mia pause his game and look up at your other friend with furrowed eyebrows. "You mean as in a threesome?"

"Who's having a threesome?" Donghyuck asks throwing his arm around Aeri's shoulders, and taking the drink out of her hands to empty it down his throat.

"The three of us," she answers looking at Donghyuck with a smile, and doing a circular motion with her hand pointing at you, Mia, and herself.

His eyes open up in astonishment when you laugh hearing Aeri's words, but an amused smile takes over his face at the same time. "That's extremely unfair, don't you think?"

"Want me to film it for you? So you don’t miss out." You ask him in return.

"I'd rather film you and me, alone." He says in a teasing tone.

"Okaaaaaay," Mia gets up from her place to shove her phone down her jean pockets and starts walking back inside. "Can't a girl play Cats Café in peace without having to listen to you being some horny motherfuckers all the time?!"

"Go get fucked, Mia." Donghyuck tells your friend and you get to punch him in the arm when he comes to stand to your left, which gets him laughing and complaining.

Mia only points her middle finger at him and yells something like “I'll ask your brother.” Next thing you know, Mark has joined Aeri on the balcony after communicating that Mia and Jeno have, in fact, taken over his room to do God knows what, and you are lighting up the second joint of the night with Donghyuck standing very close to your side.

The four of you smoke in silence until there are only a few puffs left before it goes out. When the stub comes back to you, you light it again sure you'll be the one to finish it off.

Donghyuck watches you exhale the smoke from your lungs and then looks down at the joint between your fingers. He's not going to ask for it, so you raise your hand to the level of his mouth and position the end of it between his lips—which feel as soft as ever, and he leaves a little tempting kiss on your fingertips.

A few meters away from you the party is still going on. Sweaty bodies, blinding colored lights, and wet tongues that move to the rhythm of an ear-piercing song played by Renjun. He is a genius, the best of them all when it comes to producing music, and it shows in the way he makes you feel like your heart is gonna come out of your chest when he plays with the console.

It could be the music, the weed, the alcohol, the boy in front of you—who is looking into your eyes like you're the only one at the party, as if you were his favorite and he hadn't had multiple girls hitting on him all night—or a mix of all that, but you start to believe he got you hypnotized. You know you could have anyone else too, but it's never enough if they aren't Donghyuck.

He takes a hit making it burn until he hurts your fingers, so you have to move them away from his lips. However, the pain isn't enough to bring you back to reality, and a little touch on his lips doesn't calm the incessant desire you have to kiss him—it shows in the dilated pupils of your eyes that look for his gaze, in your agitated breathing, and in his sly smile as if he was reading all your thoughts.

What does it take to break Lee Donghyuck?

The tension can be felt in the air, so your friends are quick to leave the two of you alone in the balcony, maybe hoping you would sort your feelings out.

"Kiss me? Please, kiss me."

After throwing the end of the joint to the floor, he gently caresses your face with his nose and hugs your waist to get you closer, forcing you to cross your arms behind his neck.

You continue begging in his ear. "No more hiding, Hyuck."

His nose reaches your neck where you feel him plant a subtle wet kiss and then leave an intense bite. His teeth scraping your skin while his two hands squeeze your butt, drawing you firmly into his body. One last suck to your neck that you're sure will be leaving a mark, and then he's getting off you, staring down as if nothing just happened.

"Just came here to tell you we'll be leaving to Yangyang's."

Donghyuck lights up a cigarette and goes back inside without another word, probably hoping you'll go after him since that's what you've gotten him used to; you can't deny it.

You often feel like his babysitter and his mother at the same time: making sure that he won't make stupid decisions when he's out and intoxicated, that he won't miss any important schedules, that he can communicate himself better with his friends and family. You've been Donghyuck's unconditional support from the day you met, but since he's shown nothing in return it has started to feel like a burden. Like trying to make an already grown man grow. You know that it isn't your responsibility, though, and that he isn't likely to change for good.

You can't break Lee Donghyuck, but you still like to try.

3. Tell her sweet lies

A quick stop before heading to the after-party at Yangyang's has Donghyuck's car sitting in the McDonald's parking lot, while he and Rina order takeout after you said you were feeling extremely hungry. It's you and Mia waiting inside, sitting on the heated seats with music blasting from the stereo.

You've made sure to make the ride awkward enough for Rina after you saw her with Donghyuck, caressing the nape of his neck and hair and squeezing his thigh as he drove in front of her. You know it's not an idea that Donghyuck likes too much, but the anger caused by his rejection combined with the desinhibition caused by the weed has you making bad decisions.

Donghyuck has left his phone unlocked for you to be able to change the music while he's gone. So you take the opportunity to enter his text messages and look for you and Mia's names through the chats.

Multiple results from the times you have been mentioned appear instantly. Some are funny ones, some are the result of important conversations in your group chat, and others are part of the private chats between Donghyuck and some of the boys.

"Did you know Yangyang talks about you to Donghyuck?" You ask Mia with a smirk.

"Oh my god!" She rips the phone out of your hands before you can get to read what it's about. "You're not reading that out loud."

Her pupils narrow when she brings the light of the screen closer to his eyes, to read the conversations between her "best friend" and Donghyuck. You immediately think that there can't be anything wrong with it because of the smile that Mia can't contain while she scrolls down the screen.

Mia throws the phone back at you and hides her blushed face on her hands before you can make fun at her.

"What is it?" You ask laughing. “Are you ever gonna stop messing around with other boys and confess to him?”

"I think he likes me," she says now looking at you, her cheeks still red from the temperature.

"Yeah, I think so too. I think he fucks you for a reason."

"Shut up! What does it say about you?"

You laugh once more and grab the phone, making sure to touch the screen before it locks up. The first mention of your name is from a chat from tonight, in which Donghyuck asked you if you wanted him to pick you up to go to the mansion. A few more meaningless mentions in your private conversation with him here and there. Some pictures and messages that you exchange that there's no chance to reveal. Lastly, you find several mentions of you in a private chat with Jaemin, which makes you curious so you open it to read the full conversations.

"There's something off here," you tell Mia with a furrow of your brows.

A little bit of concern is shown in her voice after watching your expression. "Huh? What is it?"

"He's been talking to Jaemin… And Jaemin asked if we've fucked." You tell your friend without stopping from scrolling through Donghyuck's phone, a deeper frown taking over your face the more you read his conversations with Jaemin that involve you.

"What did Hyuck say?"

"'I fucked her so good she won't go looking for you or any other guy ever again.'" You read Donghyuck's reply to Jaemin out loud. So that means he knew about you and Jaemin all this time. "'She gets so desperate for me it makes me sick, you can't imagine how much she cums when she's riding me–"

"I think that's enough." Mia scratches the phone from your hands and blocks it to prevent you from reading any more texts. A short silence falls between the two of you before she's speaking again. "I saw them kiss at midnight."

"Who?"

"Donghyuck and Rina."

Disgust quickly takes over your face and you feel like throwing up, the hunger you felt earlier leaving your body in an instant. It's been too much in such a short period of time.

The atmosphere in the car becomes awkward once more, a heavy trap base being the only sound filling the space. You don't really want to turn to look at the backseat where Mia sits because your teary eyes would give you away. You have known her long enough to be sure she won't hesitate destroying Donghyuck's car with a bat this time if she ever sees you crying because of him, again. And once you finally have such a good and stable group of friends, you don't want to ruin it just because you wanted to get involved with one of them and it turned out wrong.

You also knew who you were messing with since the start, but you still decided to ignore everything that Hyuck is and fall into lust and believe in his promises.

"He also said he doesn't really like me."

"Now that's ridiculous." Mia lets out a scoff.

You shrug, "It's what it said. That I’m only a good fuck."

"Hyuck has been seeing you for months, and you are going to believe what a silly text message says?" You feel Mia place her torso between the two front seats to try to meet your gaze while questioning you. "You know Hyuck becomes an asshole when he's with Jaemin," she continues. "He would say whatever bullshit to try to look cool–"

"But we haven't been doing so well lately."

"He likes you," she still tries to reassure you.

"Mia, it's fine. I don't care." You cut her off, crossing your arms and sulking in the passenger's seat. That tense silence keeps falling between both of you until she decides to speak.

"You can be sad about it, you know, he was being an asshole." She tells you in a much calmer tone, placing a hand on your left shoulder.

"I said it's fine." You turn to look at her the moment Donghyuck makes it back to the car with Rina, and takes his seat behind the steering wheel, passing the bags of takeout to Mia and placing yours in the middle of the car. Your eyes never meet Mia or Rina though, falling on Donghyuck's subtle smile, and getting lost in his glazed up eyes until you decide to lie to yourself for the millionth time that night. "I don't like him anyway."

Donghyuck looks a little lost as his eyes start wondering from you to Mia after hearing that last sentence. "Who's this guy we don't like?" You only smile in return, and ask him to take you home because you are too tired and intoxicated. He's quick to comply with your request, answering in a sweet and even more intoxicating tone than every other substance you had that night. "Of course, baby."

The car ride is awfully quiet when Donghyuck drops Mia and Rina at Yangyang's and, after a weird exchange of looks between Hyuck and the boys, the two of you continue your way to your house.

The night has gone from bad to terribly bad, and you're not sure how much longer you can take. After reflecting on every conversation you had with your friends tonight, you finally decide to speak.

"I think we should quit it."

He stops the car at the door of your house and looks at you with a crooked eyebrow. "What?" The disgust is evident in the tone of his voice.

"I just–" you struggle to take the words out. You aren't sure if you should tell him how hurt it made you that he talks like that about you with his friends, without shame or respect for your privacy. You aren't sure if you can reproach him for having been with other girls when you have also done it, when he has made clear you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, and when you agreed on it. "I know we'll never be in a real relationship, but I don't think you're treating me right, okay?"

Donghyuck lets out a scoff and his hands fall off the steering wheel like dead-weight. An expression on his face that tells you he's already done with this conversation. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"That it feels like I'm a game to you? That you only want me around when your dick is in need or whatever?"

"I just spent like a hundred on food for you and your friends. Again, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"And I don't want your fucking food, okay? I don't care how much money you spend on me," you say looking at him with teary eyes at this point. "What if I just want a hug, a kiss, a little affection, huh? Just that you care for me all the time, you know?"

"Baby," Donghyuck looks for your hands and you let him intertwine your fingers over the middle of the car. "But I show you my affection all the time," he says with a sweeter tone now.

"But not in front of others," you shake your head. He squeezes your hands and his thumbs caress the back of your hands, making it even harder to contain all your emotions. "It's like you're scared of others finding out, like you're ashamed. When literally everyone knows we're seeing each other."

"We've kissed in front of others multiple times."

"Yeah, but all those times you've been drunk off your ass and high as a kite. Like I'm just a random girl for you to hook-up at parties."

Donghyuck bites his lower lip to contain a smile, and gets closer to you to speak in your ear. "What if I told you you make me nervous when I'm sober?"

"Get off, you're ridiculous."

"But you know you are the only one I really like."

That's what makes you stop fighting him to search for his eyes. You know it isn't the best option, that he always tricks you into thinking whatever he wants when he looks at you oh so sweetly, even if he makes no sense, but you are hoping to finally find the truth somehow.

"Some things tell me otherwise. Mia told me–"

"Your friends are lying to you, might be trying to fuck up what we have."

“She told me you kissed Rina.”

“I didn’t,” he says. “I swear I didn’t. Nothing happened between me and her.”

His gaze is cold and his lips a straight line devoid of emotion, while he still holds you by the arms preventing you from getting out of the car. And that sentence feels like it's enough to ruin all the good things you've been through together. He keeps lying, talking about your intimacies with his friends, ignoring your feelings, and pretending that he really cares about you.

You open the car door and get out to slam it again, pretty sure it might leave the lock damaged. Outside the temperature is very low despite the fact that it is about to dawn, the sky turning purple and slowly turning off the stars. So you rush to open the door of your house before freezing outside, but especially because you hear Donghyuck get out of the car too and call your name closer and closer, indicating that he has no intention of ending the talk yet.

4. She knows what I am, and she loves and evades what I am

"I'm staying over." He says making his way through your door, shutting it and blocking it once the two of you are inside.

"No you're not." The walk down to your room gets constantly interrupted by him trying to reach for you and stopping you from moving any more. He grabs your arms to get you to look at him, so when he finally makes you turn around and you see his face, you break down. "Fuck you, Donghyuck! I told you you're not staying."

"Yeah, I am. And I'mma fuck you silly."

"No you're fucking not."

"Gonna take all that anger out of you."

"Fuck you, asshole." You almost spit in his face trying to talk to him at his same height.

"Is that what you want?" He asks, grabbing your jaw with one hand and forcing you to keep the eye contact, the other hand placing you flush from his body. "Fuck you so good you don't even understand why you got so mad in the first place?"

Your eyes fall to his gripped teeth and to his lips, wet with spit from all the previous arguing looking more tempting than usual.

You have to admit that, if you really think about it, it didn't make much sense why you got so mad at him. He already made it clear to you that absolutely nothing happened between him and Rina or anyone else all night while you, instead, jumped to conclusions and went looking for unwarranted revenge.

Maybe you and Mia thought he was being an asshole and was making fun of you when, in reality, that isn't much like Hyuck. What if it really was just a stupid conversation between boys? What if it was his way of showing off, of presuming to Jaemin about your relationship because he felt proud of you?

Because if he supposedly gets as sick of you as he said in the text messages, then why would he decide to be with you again?

A gasp comes out from your open mouth when you feel his hand squeezing on your ass and pushing you even closer to him.

"I just want you to be honest with me." You reply in a whisper. The smile that gets over his features is wicked, and his left hand tightens his grip around your face one last time before he shoves you to the bed.

An airy laugh comes out of him. "Silly girl gets angry and if I fuck her she calms down."

He gets over you placing both hands on the sides of your head and looks into your eyes once more. But there's something different this time. His look is so soft and tender it makes you want to tear up a little. It might show, because Donghyuck pouts lightly before opening his mouth to swear to you: "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose."

It's hard to trust him. But it's also hard to believe he would dare lie to you while looking at you in the eyes that way. So you only grab his locks and pull to give him a kiss full of emotion. There's passion, there's anger, there's pain and there's so much obsession it could be mistaken for love.

His palm travels up and down from your sides, caressing and squeezing firmly, to your back under your top until he unties the straps and gets it out of the way. His fingers explore and touch all the newly exposed skin sending shivers down your spine. He kisses you back aggressively, making you pull on his hair like you know he likes and feeling him grow hard above you.

His hands start to undo the buttons of your jeans and he slides his fingers under it and over your skin, massaging your ass, grinding on you even more.

Small whimpers leave from you and mix with the sighs coming out from his mouth. You take a moment to remove your pants completely, tossing them to the side and quickly starting to get Donghyuck out of his.

When his hands move up again, he gets them under the straps of your panties and moves them down, freeing you from the fabric, parting your legs and giving your clit direct contact with his boxers.

It's always too easy when he's alone with you. He knows perfectly when to kiss you and where to touch you to make you want more of him—an expert of your body, always looking for you to have the best time.

Guilt takes over you for the second time tonight, remembering how selfish you were earlier when you went looking out for his friend, and then getting mad at him when Donghyuck has really been nothing but the sweetest when it's just the two of you.

What was the problem with keeping things private? What was your obsession with him showing you off? You never considered he’s a public figure and he might like his privacy, to keep things on the low because of his fans, the paparazzi and the media who’s never got anything nice to say about him and your friends.

When you get away from him all of a sudden, there's a remaining blush on his cheeks as his lustful but confused eyes follow you, until you get on the floor and land on your knees in between his legs. His pupils expand as you tug on his boxer, grab his semi-hard cock and lick the tip of it. As soon as you repeatedly run your tongue around it, you hear him groan deeply. Not much time passes until he is fully hard while you keep moving your hand along his dick, squeezing and passing your thumb over the tip making Donghyuck hiss, and he pushes your head down to make you wrap your mouth around him one more time.

"Fuuuck baby," he groans one more time before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you away.

You look at him with shiny eyes, your lips red and moisturized with his pre-cum. And because of the way his chest moves up and down from the heavy breathing and the look he's giving you, you think Donghyuck might come just at the sight of you.

He doesn't waste another second to attach your mouths in a desperate kiss, leading you to lay on top of the bed once again. His weight on your body maintains your back pressed against the mattress, and he makes room between your legs. You're sure he's more than ready for you, but you know he always wants to make sure you are fully ready for him. His digits tease your entry and you whine in desperation to just have him.

"Hyuck," you can't help but cry his name.

"What?" He asks as his fingers keep going in and out of you. The feeling of his lips on yours help you momentarily stop from moaning and complaining.

When he finally breaks the kiss to breathe, you manage to speak. "Quit teasing and fuck me."

He only grins at you and you can finally feel the head of his cock replacing his fingers in your pussy. But he doesn't push in yet. Instead, his fingers coated in your juices come in contact with your lips and somehow you know what he wants.

"Did you have fun playing the angry girlfriend with me?" He comes closer and whispers in your ear as you open your mouth and suck them for him. "Silly girl. Look at you, you are so beautiful." Donghyuck talks in between wet kisses that move from your cheeks to your neck. "How could you believe what your friends say?"

A moan escapes you—whether because of his actions or his words, it doesn't matter too much, because he slams his dick into you, taking away all the air from your lungs.

The oxygen only reaches your blood again once he slightly pulls off to bottom out immediately after, setting a steady pace. You are restricted from making any sounds, as his fingers are still on your mouth while he keeps pleasuring you, obliging you to suck and bite at them because he just feels too good.

Once again, you think every doubt you ever had about him before was dumb, as there isn't a possibility he would want to make you feel this good if he didn't like you at all.

His girth is perfectly adjustable to you and quick to form a knot on the low of your stomach. It would suddenly disappear when he completely pulls out of you and grabs your hips to turn you around, making you stand on your elbows and knees. With your head down on the mattress and ass up in the air, Donghyuck doesn't waste another second and gets inside you.

His thrusts are slow and deep, way too deep. This position allows him perfectly to play with your clit and to squeeze your breasts at the same time, quickly sending you over the edge in a minute, then stopping completely, then stimulating you to the limit over again.

When he finally gets his hands off your body completely, you start to accelerate the pace on your own, fucking yourself on his dick before Donghyuck interrupts suggesting you move to straddle him.

He's quick to get himself sitting with his back against the bed frame, then dragging you to sit comfortably on top of him. Hyuck rubs the head of his dick back and forth between your folds, reaching your clit repeatedly and spreading your wetness all over him, making you whine in the process.

"Hyuck, please." You are a panting mess on top of him, moving yourself to keep the friction stimulating you and sighing dreamily.

He lets you grind and stimulate your clit through his length for a bit, taking his shirt off in the process and going back to massaging your boobs. You whimper when he manages to sink you down on him without a warning, which makes you fall forward and rest the side of your head on his chest, your ear right above where his heart should be.

His arms embrace your body and press you against his chest that is warm, allowing you to hear the rhythm of his heart, slow and controlled, like you could find all the right answers by just listening to it.

"I would make love to you," he whispers, "but you made me mad with your little scene."

"Hyuck, don't be like that." Your eyes fall shut trying to hold back the tears, when at the same time you desperately want to see his satisfied smile hearing you cry and moan his name as he rolls his hips, stretching your walls again and again without having started to move back and forth again. "Hyuck, fucking move!" You ask desperately, sitting and trying to bounce on him but his hands on your waist keep you in place, glued to his torturing hips.

A strong smack on your right ass cheek makes another filthy sound escape from your lips right before you hear his voice. "Talk to me nicely," he warned.

"Do that again."

Your plea makes him smile and move your ass up a bit to give you the first thrust after a while. His palm violently comes in contact with your cheek one more time and you fall even forward, hiding your face on his neck and whispering all the praises you could think of in his ear.

"That's it," he says as he continues hitting all the right spots inside you.

When his hand slides between your bodies and finds your clit you can't contain yourself anymore and fully sit on top of him to take a little bit of control, riding him while you chase your orgasm.

Even when you start begging for it over and over, he doesn't say a thing at your tireless plea. He knows you are once again at the verge of it by the way your inner walls clench around him. Instead, he keeps stimulating your clit while squeezing and sucking your boobs. Sitting in the middle of his bed with his dick buried inside you, he makes you work for it until you are coming all over him.

You keep moving, supporting yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and riding out your orgasm until you feel the cold air hit your nipples, wet with the warmth of Hyuck's mouth before he was moaning out his own orgasm.

"Love you," he places a kiss at the top of your head, and caresses you gently along your back down to your thighs. "You're so, so beautiful."

You open your eyes and take a look at your surroundings while still hiding your face on Donghyuck's neck. Things look blurry and you feel a little dizzy. You're breathing heavily, but not only because of the amazing angry-make up sex you two just had. You're coming back to your senses, and your chest hurts and your eyes sting from holding on the tears; it's everything that happened this night taking over you all at once.

A sip from your nose is what gives you away and makes Donghyuck laugh.

"Aw, baby," he says with a squeeze on your asscheek. "Fucked you so good I got you crying?" Donghyuck takes your face in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. His thumbs wipe away the thick tears that fall down your cheeks with care, and he kisses the pout on your lips over and over again, until they form a straight line. "Shh, it's okay baby. I know you didn't mean to get mad at me."

You shake your head and open your mouth, determined to speak, to tell him that things can no longer work like this, but you are interrupted by his lips and his hands making you start to move again on his dick, still buried deep inside you.

"I love you," he repeats in between kisses, and you moan. "I love you. Happy New Year."

And this time you shake your head in agreement, up and down in the same way that Donghyuck starts to move your body on him, hoping he would just shut up and stop lying for once. But you try to convince yourself that if you do it all again, that if you choose to keep seeing him, there will be just lust. No playing games, no believing in promises, no loving him, but lust. Because you can't let him go just like that.

Happy holidays everyone! If you liked this fic, please let me know. Feedback is always appreciated.

#haechan smut #nct smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream smut #neosecretsanta #zh-lele #playing games

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peggyao3 · 2 months ago

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Relic - Pt. 8 "Rowing in Eden"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧

A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse ❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts ❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable!Feyd, Emotional!Feyd, Possessive!Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism ❗, implied/referenced murder

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

A/N: Saw myself forced to split this chapter in half becase you won't catch me uploading a 10k chaptie 😭 Hence why the alternative title for this one is "Blue Balls" 💙🥰

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Giedi Prime, Day 4

Quietly, she stands on the balcony of her room, forearms on the banister as a stormy breeze ruffles her clothes. The wind brings no refreshment, it only moves the smog around.

The city below reminds her of Neu-Seoul paired with industrial power plants as far as the eye can see and post-apocalyptic wasteland, a planet groaning and moaning for plant life and to be freed of the human plague that festers on its crust, much like Old Earth. She is quite used to toxic air, but this atmosphere is a little worse even than that of her former home.

A rumbling crack had startled her yesterday while she was trying to inconspicuously scan the Harkunnin language and grammar from the audiovisual filmbook recording that was given to her. Her personal maid, a woman named Lilia, had reassured her that that was just the volcanic activity deep within the bowels of the planet and nothing to worry about.

The engineer from Old Earth has a slightly different opinion on that, but she had thanked Lilia with a smile and rewinded the filmbook to proceed committing the data to her chip.

Looking over her shoulder now, she sees Lilia's pale, bald head moving about, filling the wardrobe with clothes that have just been delivered. The Harkonnen woman doesn't seem as malnourished as the ones she had seen on her first day.

The relic doesn't like the fact that a stranger has access to her chambers where her sarcophagus stands, folded back together so that nothing visually gives away any of the heresy inside.

A notification lights up her virtual interface. The AI tool has finished compiling the Harkunnin vocabulary and sorted it in an appealing, searchable array. Now she only needs to acquire a filmbook about Galach and scan that too, so she can start cross referencing in her virtual, little lexicon. Her eyes focus back on the room and the interface dissolves when she takes notice of Lilia's pale hand waving at her.

"Your new pants, my Lady!" The maid lifts a pile of garments, some of them even colorful. The Lady had (unknowingly) requested colors which are expensive to import, the costliest one being purple. Of course, such expenditures are to be expected for the new Lady of House Harkonnen and Lilia had spared neither trouble nor expenses to ensure her wardrobe is as she desires. Being assigned to the woman from Old Earth, a place which Lilia had assumed to be only the stuff of mysteries, is the best promotion that ever could have happened to the maid.

"I love them already. I can't go another day with my bare thighs touching under these gowns." The woman steps into the suite, pulling the balcony door and the curtains shut so the color stealing sunlight is barred out. Lilia looks at her like she doesn't quite understand the remark about her thighs, though that may be due to the fact that Harkonnens, regardless of gender, appear to be completely and entirely hairless except for their lashes.

"Can I try them on?" The relic asks, pointing at the trousers.

"Of course you can, my Lady. Like I said, you don't need to ask me for permission for anything."

"But it's good manners to ask."

Lilia likes this woman even though she asks curious questions sometimes, such as how high her salary is and if she has health insurance, followed by a lengthy explanation about what health insurance is. She likes her because she talks to her like she's a human, which is typically something that no one above her rank ever does, save for Lilia's own husband.

The new pants fit perfectly and there is no need to try them all on, but she does so anyway because it's fun and it distracts her from the painful waiting for her beloved.

"When will Feyd be here?" She finally inquires after the eighth pair of pants which she keeps on because they're comfortable.

"I'm afraid I don't know, my Lady. The na-Baron has a busy schedule."

That he does, she grimly notes. He never used to be so busy in their dreams, she had him all for herself. After 24,000 years of sleep and 2 years with the Bene Gesserit, she only just got him back. Is it wrong of her to want to spend every minute of every day with him?

Lilia suggests: "If it pleases you, I could do your makeup before the na-Baron arrives."

"Ah, that's very kind of you, but no thank you."

Lilia seems to be the multi-purpose kind of handmaid, being a skilled seamstress and stylist who even boasts experience with hair, a rare skill set on Giedi Prime. Proudly, Lilia had proclaimed that she has a personal knack for medicine and trauma management without leaving but a scar. The relic still wonders if this is a commonly needed skill around here…

"Then I'll leave you to your own devices." Lilia hasn't failed to notice the oftentimes absent look in the Lady's eyes, as if she's not quite there. Although the maid is impossibly curious and precariously drawn to danger (a trait which she has learned to suppress), she won't urge the foreigner for stories or company. They're not friends.

The relic glances over when her handmaid slips out of the room and the open door briefly reveals the guard who is stationed in front of it. She can only hope he has been placed there to keep unwelcome visitors out, not to keep her inside. So far, she's had no desire to test it.

Neither the idea of leaving her Sarcophagus unattended nor wandering around the palace pyramid on her lonesome seem awfully inviting.

She returns to the balcony, forearms on the banister, and her expression flattens. Melancholy glazes over her eyes and she summons the interface to blank out the depressing concrete jungle that spews smog into the sky from roaring chimneys. The only improvement is that she is now wearing pants.

While she should start studying the Harkunnin language or delve into the Holtzman physics (something about it sparked vague recognition in her), she ends up loading up a serial to watch on her interface, denying herself the luxury to sit down. Because if she gets too comfortable, she fears she will forget where she is and break down as soon as she shuts off the stream.

Feyd watches her stand there, clothes ruffled by the breeze, herself unmoving in the grey light, in the toxic air. Her back is turned to him and for twenty minutes she hasn't stirred.

Carefully, he had deposited the three long-stemmed crowns of thorns on the vanity when he realized she wasn't going to turn around. They're the only native flower on Giedi prime, all thorny, dark-grey stems and white petals.

On quiet soles, he steps out on the balcony, almost breathing down her neck. All day he's been thinking of her. Every second apart is a little death and he had hoped she would fall into his arms the second he came through the door. From an angle, he studies her face, pupils dancing. She looks sad and he can't see why. For a second, he contemplates stealing the chip out of her skull when she sleeps.

But for that, they'd have to start sleeping in each other's beds first.

"What are you doing there, my darling?" A pair of toned arms encircles her from behind and she yelps, shutting down the stream and the interface.

"Feyd!" She attempts to spin around and face him, but Feyd pins her back to his chest, humming as he buries his nose in the crown of her head. She hugs his forearms against her stomach, craning her head to find his pale-blue gaze. Feyd's nose slides across her head and he kisses her forehead.

"You looked sad."

"Yes, because I've missed you." That is very much true, though she conceals the fact that rewatching her old favorite serials had nearly broken her heart. Her answer placates him for a minute and he presses the front of his body against the back of hers, squeezing her like he's seen her squeeze the stuffed animal of hers.

"How are you?" He murmurs.

"Good!" She replies a bit too quickly and inhales like a liar caught in the act.

"You don't like it," Feyd doesn't ask, he states, and disappointment reverberates in his tone. He knew this, yet his chest hollows itself out with a blunt carving knife.

"The place is just… Different than I thought." She squeezes the forearms that hold her.

"But I'm here," he mumbles and presses his nose against her temple.

"Yes, I feel better when you're here." Finally, he allows her to turn around in his embrace and face him properly. They're so close, he can feel the expansion of her thorax with every breath. Blue eyes lovingly trail over her face.

"Did your maid not offer to do your makeup?"

Her stomach sinks and she blinks quickly. "Don't you like me without makeup anymore?"

"No! That's not what I-" Feyd scrambles for words, cupping her jaws and neck. "I just wondered if she offered. If not, we'll replace her. You're supposed to have only the best maids and servants one can-"

"Stop." She interrupts him firmly, shaking herself as if to free herself from his hands, which can't be what she means, so Feyd keeps holding her. "Lilia is wonderful, I don't want her replaced."

"Hmmph." Feyd gives his agreement and wonders if she had ever called him 'wonderful'. Slowly, he lowers his face, closes his eyes and slots his lips against hers, moving sensually as he presses their bodies flush. Her spine pushes right against the banister and her breasts against his chest. All day, he's been fantasizing about this. Today he'll finally be brave enough and take her to bed, there's nothing to be afraid of.

But he can tell she's thinking, thinking again, always thinking so much instead of giving herself to him unconditionally.

She kisses him with closed lips, like a parting gift before she speaks. "There are… Things that I feel like we should talk about."

Feyd exhales a short, hard breath against her face. "Like what?"

"I can't kiss you without thinking of, well, everything," she sighs and gestures over her shoulder. "This planet is… I don't know what I expected."

"Then let's go inside, so you don't have to see the planet." Feyd tugs on her waist and she allows him to guide her inside, walking backwards and pulling her with him. But when he attempts to kiss her, she clutches his lapels and shakes her head.

"It's not just that. It's the people. You're keeping slaves to work at your palace."

Not only in the palace, Feyd thinks to himself. If she knew about the slave fields…

"No one is having fun, everyone looks the same and everyone seems to be scared for their lives!" She inhales harshly and Feyd's fingers trail down her waist and spine, proactively grasping at the fabric in case she wants to tear away from him.

A muscle along his jaw flexes lightly before he speaks. "Well you don't survive wars by having fun and being fair to other humans, do you?"

"No, but-" she stumbles. "That was different. We left Earth with a higher purpose, to save our species from extinction. It was logistically impossible to bring every single human to a new home."

"We also serve a higher purpose. To maintain our status and power among the Great Houses, we cannot grant every citizen the luxury of free will."

"But not like this." She clutches his lapels like she wants to strangle him, or at least someone. "This is terrible."

"Well, I live here," Feyd grates out. "I didn't choose to live here. And it just is like that." He had chosen to live here at an age at which one cannot make sensible decisions yet.

"But you could do something. You're the na-Baron, right? You could change something."

"You're right, I'm the na-Baron," he grimly states.

"Lilia said, if she gets hurt, she needs to stitch up herself and she'll be dismissed without recompensation if she finds herself unable to perform her tasks anymore." She looks at Feyd expectantly who stares over her head at the roiling cityscape out the balcony door and shrugs his shoulders. "Do you at least agree that the staff around here are treated unfairly? It is proven that employee satisfaction and work efficiency correlate strongly."

"I don't know," he grumbles and refrains from telling her that the correlation between the threat of a blade between the ribs and work efficiency can hardly be beaten. The relic takes note of how annoyed Feyd looks, like he's been talked into a corner. What he really says is 'I don't care'.

Slowly searing under her expectant stare, Feyd continues: "Sorry. But I don't want to change the world, I have bigger concerns."

"Such as the fact that I'm not kissing you?" She almost scoffs a little, remembering a moment which feels like a lifetime ago, and her heart aches in her chest, knowing exactly that's not what he meant.

"For example…" Feyd brings one hand to her face and caresses her cheek softly, fingertips moving tentatively from temple to jaw. "You didn't ask me about my day."

"Oh, Feyd, I'm so sorry." Her shoulders fall and she feels horrible for jumping him with her concerns, but who else could she talk to, who else could she trust? The grasp on his lapels becomes yearning and clingy, exactly how he likes it.

Softly, she asks: "Is everything okay?" The lingering sub question is: Did he hurt you?

"I'm okay," Feyd hums and a dreamy, little smile slips over his face.

"Are you sure?" She cups his cheeks and looks at him insistently. All of her attention is finally only his and Feyd seizes the moment, delving down to kiss her, cupping the back of her head. This time, he will not be deterred.

Further questions are muffled by Feyd's pillowy lips on hers, kissing her with such determination that her belly is flooded with heat and she whimpers quietly in his mouth when he walks her backwards. Soon the back of her knees hit the mattress and she sinks down, bones melting like jelly when Feyd-Rautha crawls over her like a big cat, his body as hard and heavy as it was the first time they made love.

"No lucid dream this time," he whispers against her wet lips and settles on her chest, relishing the feel of her softness beneath him. His fingers trail downwards with a purpose, stopping occasionally to squeeze her breasts, her waist, her tummy, all the parts that he likes. Calloused fingertips slip beneath her waistband and across her venus mound.

Oh God, to be touched like this in real life! It's been over 24,000 years. She gasps so loudly when he touches her clit that it makes Feyd smile from ear to ear. "That's right, we're finally together," he breathes against her open mouth, drawing small circles on the tender bud, though his wrist is restrained by the waistband of her trousers. "And you're every bit as sweet and wet for me as in the dream."

His eyes are closed. It's easier to talk to her like that. Feyd feels like he's 13 and having his first proper time all over again, except this time he actually wants the girl to like him.

"Feyd," she mewls, fingers curled around the back of his head, nails digging slightly into his nape.

"Hmm?" He hums against her mouth, tongue barely wanting to leave hers.

"Feels so good… Ahhh!" Feyd-Rautha's fingers have slipped further south, two of them sinking tentatively into her cunt and filling her up. With short back and forth of his digits, he makes her thighs fall open wide and her pelvis buck against his damp palm.

Shyness be damned, he needs to see her. So he swiftly stands up, sucks his fingers clean and pulls her pants and underwear (It's strange seeing a woman in pants) down her legs. While he's at it, he discards his shoes and suit jacket too, enjoying the range of motion his sleeveless tunic offers him.

Pale arms cage her when he climbs back on her. His woman shuffles backwards so her head lies properly on the pillow. Feyd would have ravaged her on the cold floor tiles too, but she likes it comfortable, and so does he, but only with her and only in secret.

He wants to eat her cunt until she cries his name, but her fingers have formed a manacle around the nape of his neck, pulling their foreheads flush while her knee nudges against his thigh, falling open for him once more. His fingers return obediently to the joy of sinking into her wet, squishy cunt and Feyd breathes wordless adoration against her parted lips, eyes hooded, cock hard, his chest a flurry of quick panting.

How badly, how madly, how deeply he loves her. He should finally tell her.

"Will you, ahh, eat me out like during our first time?" She whines, lashes fluttering open while her pelvis needily grinds against the steady pace of his hand.

"I'll touch you however you please, my Lady," Feyd purrs, thumb brushing over her tender nub.

"Why, ahhh, why are you calling me that? Lilia called me that too."

"Because you're my Lady Harkonnen."

To be his Lady - whatever that exactly means - fills her cheeks with warmth and drives her pelvis upwards, because she likes the way it sounds. "But I already have a last name," she pants. Feyd cocks his head to the side, fingers slowing down, and a foreboding overcomes her.

"You know they gave you to me as my bride?"

"Gave me to you?!" Her blissful expression dissolves at once and she sharply sits up, forcing Feyd to withdraw his hand unless he'd like to have his wrist snapped. "I'm not your property."

"Well, no, you're my wife." He looks at her pleadingly. "Or, you will be, very soon."

His woman puffs herself up and for a moment he thinks she's going to explode not with the bliss he had meant to bring her, but with rage.

"How come I wasn't made aware of that? Do marriages no longer require consent from both sides?"

"I thought it was self-explanatory." Helplessly, he lifts his arms and shoulders in a gesture of defense. Two fingers of his right hand glitter obscenely with her essence.

"It is not." She stares at him with wide, steely eyes and her fingers reach for his clothed knee, clutching it tightly. "Mankind really has gone back to the middle ages," she snaps. "No computers, and women are treated like cattle."

"I don't know what middle ages means, only that you are my bride," Feyd scowls.

"You don't realize how backwards this is, do you?" She tries to find compassion for his self-assured tone, the pouty lip and the stubborn eyes. "I can't believe you would…"

She shakes her head firmly, biting back disappointment. They never used to have arguments like this, or arguments at all. It used to be only love and comfort and desire and now she feels like her rose-colored glasses have been yanked off her face and replaced with a filter of monochromatic awfulness.

"I would… What? Want you as my wife? Of course I want you as my wife. You're the only one I'd ever even consider."

"No, you're not listening." Huffing, she slumps back down, knees pressed together. Feyd can still see her slick-glistening cunt peeking out enticingly between her thighs but decides to keep his hands to himself while his betrothed is so angry. She sighs heavily and hates how this last sentence made her feel - belly full of pulsing butterflies. "Fine, let's talk about this some other day and let's pick up where we left off?"

"As you wish, my Lady," Feyd coos, calloused hands slipping over her knees. Pleasant goosebumps break out all across her flesh and her fingers slide down to tangle with his. She's missed him so terribly, she could cry.

"We have protection, yes?"

"Protection?" He frowns and his woman's fingers freeze threateningly on his knuckles. "No one would dare disturb us here. I'll take care of you-"

"Protection from pregnancy, you idiot!" She almost slaps him square across the apple of his stupid cheek and her livid expression stops his crawling advance over her body.

Feyd flinches, eyes blown wide with surprise and he looks five years younger like this. Immediately, she feels awful and doesn't dare to imagine how awful she would have felt had she actually slapped him.

"But didn't you leave Earth to colonize your Solar System?"

"I'm an engineer, not an incubator."

"But we didn't take any precautions when we-"

"We were dreaming! Feyd, please. Don't give me an aneurysm and don't make me strangle you."

"Okay, okay…" Cautiously, he pulls away, glancing at his scared woman before he bends down to his discarded jacket.

"Thank you," she sighs more softly. She does want him, wants to feel him everywhere, on her and in her. Looking at the shape of his broad back and narrow waist, she wants him so badly that it hurts.

Feyd pulls a small device from the pocket and clips it behind his ear. When he begins to utter guttural words in the language she doesn't yet understand (Her interface helpfully flashes, identifying the words as Harkunnin, along with an error message about incomplete reference data), she identifies the device as a transmitter.

"Getting us a contraceptive," Feyd mutters when he is done and lets the transmitter vanish in his pocket. "Can I kiss you while we wait? We don't need protection for that…"

God, he pouts, he actually pouts and she can't help but open her arms for him. Immediately, Feyd settles on top of her, chest flush against hers. One thigh pushes between her legs and she grows aware of the hard length confined by his trousers, his cock hot and solid as it grinds against her hip with soft, rutting movements.

Their pleasure is short-lived. A knock on the door drives them apart, or rather, his woman urges him away like she's ashamed to be seen making out with her own betrothed.

"Come in!" She calls and Lilia enters, carrying a tray with two ampules. The woman decidedly avoids eye contact with the na-Baron and bows deeply when he takes the delivery from her hands. Without a word, she scurries away.

"These are quick and effective. We also have formulas with a more long lasting effect. These give us about twenty-four hours," Feyd declares and swallows his dose without delay. His cock is leaking into his pants and he might just go insane if he waits any longer. He won't tolerate any further distractions. Technically, she doesn't need to take her dose on top of his, but Feyd already knew she would have freaked out if she didn't have her own.

She accepts the ampule and looks like she's immensely relieved that they have contraceptives at all around here. But of course they do. The na-Baron can't go around and impregnate every pet he's ever fucked.

His woman's eyes are focused and he realizes she's probably scanning the ampule. By the look on her face, she is not satisfied with the result.

"So, the effect is immediate?"

"Give it a minute or so, but yes." Feyd regards her with hooded eyes and reaches for her waist. When she slips away again, he is seriously tempted to take her to a playroom instead and shackle her to the headboard, fuck her until both of their bodies are numb and her chip is fried.

The engineer climbs off the bed and squats in front of the cryo pod, opening up the BioChem compartment. Equipment that she is not the most familiar with unfolds rapidly in front of her, offering her a tiny workstation. Instructions race over her interface, accompanied by a voiceover directly into her head.

"What are you doing?" Feyd growls with a voice as rough as a whetstone when she brings out a petri dish and drips a tiny droplet of the supposed contraceptive on there. She can barely hear Feyd over the voiceover so she sees herself forced to switch it off when stomping footsteps approach her from behind. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Just analyzing a sample real quick. I'm no biologist, but the medical module of the Sarcophagus' program should be able to tell me if-"

"Are you serious?" He barks. "I want to sleep with you." His arms wrap around her waist and drag her backwards, face buried in her neck, lips warm and wet against her skin, nibbling and kissing. She just barely manages to push the petri dish in the slot where it belongs.

"Feyd, wait!" She struggles against his hold though her core floods with heat under the assault of his lips. This is how people end up pregnant - because someone's lips and hands felt too good. "Why are you so… So angry?"

"Why are you so scared of me, and fighting me?! It's just me."

"I'm not scared, I'm just-"

"Don't lie! You are scared, I can see it in your eyes. And you think I'd betray you and give you a faux contraceptive."

With great power of will, she tears her neck away from his lips and spins around in his arms, walking him backwards until his thighs hit the edge of the bed and his knees bend. He looks up with big eyes, pleading and angry, pouty lips parted just a sliver, revealing the inkiness of his teeth behind them.

Feyd is convinced that she will slap him, the way she looks down at him like no woman ever has in his life, but she only cups his face firmly with both hands.

"I'm sorry but I will complete this test. I trust you, but I don't trust anyone else. Do we really know whose hands have prepared these ampules?"

He looks like a kicked puppy, or more like an alligator with a currently closed maw full of sharp teeth. But she also sees the acceptance in his gaze and that he deeply admires her wit.

"Fine then." Wistfully, he lets the fabric of her shirt slip from his fingers as she turns away.

This isn't how she had expected her next encounter with the BioChem compartment to go. Squatting bare-assed on the floor while the man she's in love with paces up and down behind her like a tiger in a cage. From her interface, which is permanently linked to the Sarcophagus as long as she's in range, she selects the molecular analysis tool, giving some pointers by adding that the sample at hand is assumed to be a contraceptive.

Estimated time: 47 seconds

"How long will this take?" Feyd rumbles.

"Only a minute."

"Why didn't you say that sooner!" He stops the pacing and watches, finding a modicum of appreciation for the scarily multifunctional metal block that dominates her room. Surely there are other uses for the sarcophagus that no human in his universe has ever even dreamed of.

"Oh, thank God," she sighs.

Analysis complete…

Rowing in Eden – Ah, the Sea! Might I but moor – Tonight – In Thee! - Wild Nights - Wild Nights! by Emily Dickinson, 1861

A/N: In the next chapter they're finally doing it, I swear 😩

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wistfulcynic · 1 year ago

Text

the inn is a metaphor

They are terrible at running an inn.

In the beginning.

They don’t know the first goddamn thing about the hospitality industry. Or carpentry, plumbing, invoicing, logistics. Anything, really. They know nothing.

They learn.

There’s a lot of trial, even more error. But by the first time the Revenge returns for a visit they have something. A roof that doesn’t leak. Un-rotted floorboards. Nooks and crannies free from feral beasts of any kind. Zero spiders. Twin armchairs in front of the fire and a bed just big enough for the two of them. It’s a start.

The Revenge comes bearing gifts. Wee John has knitted them some afghans and Frenchie sewed an enormous quilt, which takes pride of place on the bed. They’ve towed in another ship as well, a wreck whose timber they all pitch in to rebuild into an extension and some outbuildings. Roach helps them plant a kitchen garden and a medicinal one.

Jackie gives them business advice and contacts for her old suppliers. Lucius has a guestbook for them, with marginalia he drew himself. Some of it at least is appropriate for guests to see. The rest…

“Are you planning to have guests who’ll faint at the sight of a cock?” Lucius inquires innocently. “Because I’ll be honest with you, that seems unlikely.”

The idea of guests of any kind is still a long way off, but they’re getting there. They can envision it now, and not just as a wild fantasy they spin each other at night as they lie entwined with sweat cooling on their skin. They have actual plans, concrete ones, and a decent understanding of how to realise them.

They get to work.

Jackie’s contacts prove invaluable. Soon they have a liquor supplier, deals with local butchers, bakers, candlestick-makers, and even a reliable fisherman to give them first dibs on his haul.

(It’s not Pop-Pop.)

A few survivors of Zheng’s old crew hire on as housekeeping and kitchen staff. The soup is phenomenal. Ed learns how to make it and how to cook a fish without burning it. They have fresh-smelling towels, expertly folded. They have guest rooms, and soon they have guests.

It’s an adjustment, having new people in their space. Some of the guests are gawkers, eager for a piece of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate. They reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, namely those particular assholes. But other guests are much more pleasant. Locals looking for a bit of a mini-break, people from nearby islands wanting a getaway, even the occasional European who doesn’t know who they are.

The guests are mostly happy with their stay. There’s excellent soup and decent fish, fresh linens and great views. The walls could be a bit thicker, perhaps, for everyone’s comfort, but the hosts are always most apologetic in the morning and offer copious marmalade in exchange for good reviews.

The Revenge returns frequently, each time with some new trinkets and finery for their former co-captains. In exchange, they host bonfires on the beach with music and dancing and wine, until they all fall asleep together in a pile, so like the old days on the ship that Stede watches them in the soft light of the embers with tears in his eyes.

“All right, love?” Ed asks him. He slips an arm around Stede’s waist. Stede tugs him in until Ed’s head is nestled against his shoulder. He strokes Ed’s hair. Ed sighs and snuggles closer.

“I’m all right,” Stede says. “A bit nostalgic is all.”

“You miss it.”

“I miss the crew. I wish they could visit more often. I suppose I miss the sea, though of course it’s right there in front of us. But I’m happy, Ed. I have no regrets.”

“Really?” The whisper of doubt in Ed’s voice has Stede pulling back to look down at his dear face.

“Yes really! Do you doubt it?”

“Kind of.” Ed shrugs. “It’s easier for me, I think. I was ready to be done with it, Stede. Desperate to do anything else but be Blackbeard. But you—you had just got started. You could be out there now with the crew, pirating away. You could be famous. You could—”

“Ed Teach, you listen to me.” Stede’s got his Captain Voice on now and the sound of it has Ed’s stomach turning cartwheels, his dick leaping to attention. “I don’t care about any of that. I only wanted to be a pirate for the freedom. To escape my old life. But I have a life now that I would never want to escape. Do you know why?”

Ed shakes his head.

“Because I chose it. I chose you. I love you and I would be happy anywhere you were.” He cups Ed’s cheek in his palm and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. Ed moans and presses closer but Stede pulls back, just far enough to whisper, “You make Stede happy.”

They spend that night alone in the inn, no guests, far enough from the beach that when they serve breakfast to the crew the next morning not a single smirk or smart remark is sent their way.

They wave goodbye to their friends that evening and stand together on their porch to watch the ship sail off into the sunset. Stede turns to Ed with a smile. “New guests checking in tomorrow,” he says. “We should probably fix the creak in the door hinge of Room 1.”

“I’ll do it,” says Ed, “if you polish the candlesticks. Fuckin’ polish makes my nose itch.”

“Deal,” says Stede. He turns to head inside. “What’ll we have for dinner?”

“Got a nice turbot we could roast.”

“Ooh, fab.”

The inn’s front door closes behind them.

It’s still a bit rickety, their inn. It’s old, it creaks, it springs leaks from time to time. It’s hard work, keeping it going. But they are devoted to the task. Whatever it takes, they will see their inn thrive.

It’s what makes them happy.

#blackbonnet #blackbonnet fanfic #gentlebeard #gentlebeard fanfic #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #our flag means death #post season two #profdanglais

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lovelyiida · 1 year ago

Text

THE RACE TO WEDDING BELLS ❤︎︎

CHAPTER 2: MY MISTAKE

"three strikes, you're in."

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo realized he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording, and content.

❥ CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 7.4K

It's enough to say that you should have done your research before applying to become Dynamight's secretary—hard, thorough, strategic research, indeed.

Nothing could have prepared you for the hell that awaited you.

You've been employed at the pro-hero's agency for precisely 2 months and 20 days, almost 3 months. And throughout every month, every week, every day, hour, minute, and second, you've experienced utter torture and disrespect.

Yet, against all odds, there's an odd contentment within you. You've come to accept the harsh realities of the job. Despite the hardship, you find a strange satisfaction in the chaos. Maybe it's the unpredictable nature of the work or the resilience it builds within you. Whatever it is, you're strangely okay with it all.

Because you knew that the day you clocked in, the specific day marking the third month of your employment, you'd march into Dynamight's office and tell him to kiss your wonderful ass for doubting you in the beginning.

But for now, you're content.

As you walk through the white halls of the 21st floor, your gaze fixates on Dynamight's office door. You notice that your coworkers still give you lingering looks, but now it's not a look of pity, but rather admiration.

Turning into the break room with heavy files in hand, you slam them down on the small circular coffee table, startling your coworkers in the process.

"Jeez, how do you do it, L/n?" one of your female coworkers asks, her face turned upwards, radiating disgust as she looks at the thick stack of papers. Your other male coworker turns around, coffee in hand, and takes a slow sip. "You must be some kind of masochist-sadist or whatever to endure that," he says, waving his hand towards the pile. You roll your eyes and walk towards the coffee machine.

"It's not hard once you know the routine," you shyly smile. "Routine? Is that what you're conditioned to say?" Your male friend asks. This makes you laugh. "No…it's the truth," you respond. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard, you take the hot jug of coffee and pour some into your signature coffee mug.

"You know what? From the beginning, I knew what you were!" your female friend exclaims. Raising an eyebrow at her words, you sit down with the steamy cup of coffee, placing it on the ground by your feet, not even allowing yourself the fantasy of spilling it on the papers. Your friend crosses her arms with a smug smile. "You have to be some industry plant!" she continues with a wide smile.

"I wish," you snort.

"I mean, there must have been a nationwide distress call from all the pro-heroes in Japan complaining that they needed better secretaries. So they planted you and a whole bunch of others to frolic around and show people how it's done. Because, quite frankly…who here is really doing any work besides Red Riot, Dynamight, and you."

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head as you take another sip of your warm coffee. You watch your two coworkers make a beeline for the exit, their duties calling them back to their desks. As you sit in the comfortable silence of the small breakroom, you begin to reflect on the words they said.

They weren't necessarily wrong, or right.

In no way, shape, or form do you work as hard as your boss… But you'd consider yourself a damn close second. You've been there by their side from sunrise to sunset, through prideful moments and instances where they scream at you, making you doubt your own self-worth.

You're not a pro-hero, but sometimes you feel like one. You're always on the sidelines, observing rather than stepping onto the battlefield. Yet, you know every detail, from the way they attack to the way villains cower at their touch. Your eyes have become well-trained in the past three months of working in this field, that's for sure.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly gather your things and make a beeline for your boss's office. Leaving your sad cup of spilled coffee on the breakroom floor, you knock hurriedly three times before letting yourself in, the sound of your shoes thumping against the carpeted floor echoing through the silent office.

With a huff, you slam the papers down and look at Dynamight. His face remains straight and unreadable. "Anything else you need, Dynamight?" you say, slightly staggered breath escaping your lips. The blonde hero blinks a couple of times, tilting his head as he looks at the stack of papers.

Extending his finger to lift one of the papers, he looks back up at you. "And might I know what the fuck is on my desk, L/n?" he says, his polite tone dripping with condescension. Clenching your jaw, you manage a half-smile. "Apologies, Dynamight! These are your schedules for the next three months. I've strategically organized each event to your liking, be it fundraisers, press conferences, speeches, or office schedules-"

"Even the shitty high school reunions?" he interrupts with a sly smirk. You chuckle at his response. "Yes, I made sure to make those an optional choice for you," you say with a smirk.

Dynamight scans through the papers, his face focused. Suddenly, he slams a particular paper down and points to a specific line of text. "October 16th, that's a Wednesday. Why is there a press conference scheduled on that day?" he questions.

Raising your eyebrows, you lean over to look at the indicated line. "I scheduled a press conference on that day because you'll be accompanying Red Riot to the Golden Hall to celebrate his birthday. When there are many people with similar expertise and professions gathered, it's considered a press conference," you explain with a smile. "Plus, your officials emphasized the need for you to attend more conferences, so… I bent the rules a little," you mumble.

A long pause hangs in the office, Dynamight's eyes fixed on you. "And why should I keep these papers? Couldn't you have just emailed me this as a damn form?" he growls.

"Because you only use your phone on workdays, and even then, you're barely on it. So I figured a printed form would suit you best," you reply calmly. "And what if I lose it? What then?" he retorts with an irritated tone, seemingly upset that you have an answer to all his questions.

If he paid close attention, he might notice your eye twitch.

Letting out a sigh, you place your hands behind your back. "You walk into this office with nothing, so I assume you leave with nothing as well… These papers will be waiting for you safely in a nice drawer upon your return, Dynamight," your tone edges on the brink of scolding. Your boss says nothing, tearing his gaze away from you as he settles back in his chair, focusing on his computer.

"Get out."

Blinking, you slowly bow before making your escape from the seventh ring of hell—Dynamight's office. "Wait!" he yells out, causing you to stop in your tracks. "Yes, Dynamight?" you say wearily. Your boss notices the tiredness in your tone, raising his head slightly.

"Don't come to work tomorrow. Takin' a week off," he says.

"Yes, Dynamight" you say, making another attempt to leave before you were once interrupted. "L/n!" Dynamight calls out for you once more, "Yes?" you say, on the brink of breaking right then and there.

"Rest."

Your eyes widen for a moment, that might be the nicest thing he's ever said you since you started working here. "Yes, thank you...you as well!" You exclaim, quickly bowing you make a speed walk run for it.

As you scurry to gather your belongings, you make your way to the door and leave the office, heading back home. Upon reaching home, you kick off your shoes at the entrance and set your bag down. Weary and longing for comfort, you tread towards your bedroom. The sight of your bed beckons you, and without hesitation, you sprint towards it with all your might. Jumping into the bed, you land with a resounding thump, letting out a deep groan of relief as you sink into the covers you've yearned for since the moment you woke up this morning.

Letting out a sigh, you turn to face the ceiling and begin to ponder…

If Dynamight isn't at the office for a week, that means you don't have to work… which means you can do whatever you want!

"Whatever I want, huh?" you ask aloud, sitting up on the bed as you delve deeper into your thoughts. When was the last time you had free time like this? Let alone a whole week to yourself?

There are so many things you can do! You could indulge in drawing, try out those dishes you've been meaning to cook, do some yoga, or maybe explore the town like you used to. The only difference now is that you won't be frantically rushing around the city, searching for jobs.

Or perhaps you could simply embrace stillness and do absolutely nothing. Yeah, that sounds like a plan…

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!

Letting out an irritated groan, you reach out for your phone and answer the call. "Yes, Dynamight?" you say in a sweet tone that masks your true feelings. "This isn't Dynamight," a female voice responds from the other end. Your eyebrows raise as you glance at the screen to check the contact name. "Oh! F/n! Sorry… force of habit," you awkwardly chuckle. "So, is the prophecy really true? Are we off for a whole week?" she asks.

"Yes, the prophecy has come to pass," you respond, impersonating an old wizard. This elicits laughter from both of you. "I was just lying down, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do," you share with your friend.

"Well, that's exactly why I called you, Ms. L/n."

"Me and a couple of girls are gonna go out tonight. We're all gonna try speed dating!" your friend says excitedly over the phone, her voice brimming with anticipation. You let out a sigh and lean back against the couch, contemplating her proposition.

"Um, how about no?" you respond, your tone laced with hesitation. Your friend groans loudly on the other line, causing you to wince at the sudden outburst. You quickly move the phone away from your ear to protect your eardrums.

"What do you mean no? You're fucking hot!" she argues, her voice filled with conviction. You smack your lips together, feeling a mix of flattery and skepticism. "You're just saying that so I can come with you," you mumble, not fully convinced of her sincerity.

"No, I'm saying it because you're a babe and you need a life outside of work. I bet if Dynamight asked you to go on a speed date, you'd do it without any hesitation!" she spits back, her words filled with both exasperation and a hint of teasing.

You clench your jaw, slightly irritated by her comment. "Bullshit, I would not! I have more dignity than that, don't I?" you retort, feeling a pang of defensiveness rise within you.

"It's hard to fucking tell with you these days! Just please think about it. What if you find the guy of your dreams? What if he's the sexiest man alive and you decide to miss out because of your stupid pride!" she says, her words rushing out in a torrent of persuasive arguments.

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of her words pressing upon you. "Okay, okay! Let me think about it!" you finally scream, your patience wearing thin as you struggle to come up with a definitive answer.

"Perfect! I knew you'd come around. Bye~" your friend sings before abruptly hanging up, leaving you with a mix of annoyance and contemplation. You stare at the caller ID as it fades away on your phone screen before tossing the device aside in frustration.

"Fuck," you sigh, your thoughts swirling with indecision. If there's one thing you have consistently had bad luck in, it's dating. From the age of 18 until now, your romantic endeavors have never quite yielded the desired results. Sure, there have been a few nice relationships you can look back on with a hint of nostalgia, but they were far outweighed by the embarrassing stories and short-lived connections.

You sink deeper into the couch, closing your eyes as you reflect on your dating history. The awkward blind dates, the cringe-worthy encounters, and the countless disappointments have left you hesitant to venture into the dating scene once again. But maybe, just maybe, your friend's words hold a glimmer of truth.

Like the time you met your first love, you thought things were going so well for both of you. You had been dating for about a year, and it was your first-year anniversary. Your partner had planned an extravagant evening at a fancy restaurant, complete with steak, wine, and a beautiful orchestra playing in the background. You were dressed to the nines, feeling absolutely beautiful. It seemed like one of the best days of your life.

As you gazed into your partner's eyes, brimming with love and adoration, you felt as if time stood still. It was a moment when nothing in the world could hinder your happiness. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed someone storming toward your table with a baby on their hip.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the woman approach, her face red with anger. Your partner turned around, following your gaze, and his face went pale. The woman, consumed by rage, reached your table and swiftly grabbed the glass of wine, splashing it across his face.

"How could you!" she screamed, her voice piercing through the hushed ambiance of the restaurant. All eyes turned toward your table, curious and shocked. As the woman's accusatory words rang out, your partner's guilt became apparent. The truth unravelled before your eyes.

"So you like to sleep around with married men with children?" the woman yelled, directing her anger at you. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you looked around at the scrutinizing crowd. "No, I would never sleep with a married man!" you yelled back, desperately defending your innocence. "I swear I didn't know he was married!" You stared at your supposed lover, the shock and betrayal etched across your face.

In an unexpected turn of events, the woman's expression softened, and she gave you a pitiful look. Hastily, she handed you her baby, the innocent child caught in the midst of this chaotic situation. As you held the squishy bundle in your arms, you couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and heartbreak. Everything you thought you knew was shattered in an instant.

The woman continued her tirade, hurling foul words from the depths of her anger. Your heart shattered further with each word, and you realized that the foundation of your relationship had been built on lies. Overwhelmed by the weight of the situation, you made the decision to leave the restaurant, following the woman and the child she had reclaimed as her own.

It was a night filled with shattered dreams and broken trust. The pain of that experience lingered, leaving a lasting impact on your views on love and relationships. It became a painful reminder of the importance of honesty and transparency in any romantic connection.

After going through the painful breakup, you mustered up the courage to jump back into the dating scene, hoping to find love once again. But it felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on you. Your well-meaning parents, eager to see you settle down, thought they could help by setting you up on blind dates with their friends' sons.

Let me tell you, it was a total nightmare. From the snobby misandrist who looked down on you and belittled your ambitions to the lazy and clueless guy who had zero motivation in life, you encountered the whole spectrum. It was crystal clear that these potential matches were nowhere near a good fit for you. The whole process felt like a never-ending parade of disappointment and frustration.

Feeling exhausted and disheartened, you made the decision to take a break from dating altogether. You realized that finding the right person required more than just blindly going on dates. It called for patience, self-discovery, and a genuine connection. So, for the past couple of years, you've focused on yourself and found contentment in your life.

During this time, you've embraced the opportunity to prioritize your own happiness and personal growth. You've invested in your career, chasing new opportunities and pushing yourself to reach greater heights. You've nurtured meaningful friendships and surrounded yourself with positive influences. You've explored new hobbies, interests, and passions, unearthing aspects of yourself that got neglected during the chaos of relationships.

As the months turned into years, you realized that you genuinely enjoy the life you've built for yourself. You revel in the freedom to make choices solely for your own benefit, without having to consider a partner's impact. Your independence has become a source of strength, and you've come to embrace the idea of being whole and complete on your own.

But every now and then, you feel a twinge of loneliness. You start to wonder if it's time to dip your toes back into the dating pool. Maybe it's worth exploring the possibility of meeting someone who truly understands and appreciates you—a partner who adds to your life rather than completes it.

With a cautious yet open heart, you entertain the idea of going on a date or two. You set clear intentions and boundaries, determined not to settle for anything less than what you deserve. Whether it's through online platforms, social events, or mutual connections, you're open to the possibilities that lie ahead.

You know the dating journey can be a rollercoaster, but you face it with resilience and a newfound sense of self-assurance. Equipped with the lessons learned from past experiences, you navigate the dating world with a discerning eye and a willingness to embrace vulnerability.

And who knows? Maybe this time around, the stars will align, and you'll find that genuine connection and love you've been longing for. In the meantime, you're content with the life you've created, knowing that your own happiness and fulfillment are in your hands.

"This better be good, F/n."

Stepping into the enchanting ambiance of this charming restaurant, where elegance and warmth seamlessly blend together. The moment you enter, you're greeted by an inviting atmosphere that instantly puts you at ease. Soft, warm lighting casts a gentle glow throughout the space, creating an intimate and cozy setting.

The centerpiece of the restaurant is an elegant bar that exudes sophistication. It stretches along one side of the room, adorned with polished wood and shimmering glasses. Talented bartenders skillfully craft a variety of enticing cocktails, their movements fluid and precise, as they engage in friendly banter with patrons seated at the bar.

As you take in the surroundings, your eyes are drawn to the vibrant red seats that punctuate the space. Their plush upholstery adds a touch of luxurious comfort, beckoning you to settle in and relax. The rich hue of the seats creates a captivating contrast against the warm, neutral tones of the walls and floor.

The air is filled with a lively buzz of conversation and laughter, enveloping the restaurant with an infectious high-spirited energy. It's the kind of place where people come to celebrate, unwind, and indulge in culinary delights. The sound of clinking glasses and the soft hum of background music contribute to the lively atmosphere, creating a backdrop that resonates with joy and excitement.

The friendly staff, dressed casually but stylishly, move effortlessly among the tables. They greet you with warm smiles, making you feel like a cherished part of the restaurant family. Their genuine enthusiasm and professionalism add to the laid-back yet attentive vibe, ensuring you have a memorable dining experience.

As you settle into your seat, you can't help but feel embraced by the restaurant's inviting aura. The combination of the elegant bar, the vibrant red seats, and the high-spirited atmosphere create an irresistible charm that envelops you, making you feel at home in this haven of culinary delights.

As you settle into your seat, you pull out the menu, scanning the options while squinting at the prices. With a quiet curse, you mutter to yourself, "new job new price bracket I guess."

Glancing over to the other side of the restaurant, you spot your friend engaged in a lively conversation with a guy. They share laughter, their connection evident. Catching your gaze, your friend gives you a playful smile and waves.

You offer a half-hearted wave in return, recalling the lighthearted advice she gave you in the car on the way here: "Remember, Y/n, suck it in and smile!"

Rolling your eyes at the cliché advice, you sit back in your seat, swirling the complimentary glass of wine in your hand. Letting out a sigh, you survey the room filled with eligible bachelors. There are a variety of choices—tall, short, slender, and wide. All you have to do is approach them and say hello.

Despite the numerous options, none of the men in the room seem to catch your interest. None of them seem to measure up to the one you're seeking. But then, a voice interrupts your thoughts, asking if the seat next to you is taken. Startled, you snap out of your reverie and look up, locking eyes with an attractive man.

"N-no, it's not taken," you stutter nervously, feeling your heart race. The handsome stranger takes a seat in front of you. He's tall, fit, and his well-groomed brown hair falls gracefully just above his shoulders. His light brown eyes meet yours, reflecting a golden brown glow as they catch the light.

"I couldn't help but notice you sitting all alone, so I had to make sure I swept you up before anyone else did," he chuckles, flashing a charming smile. You respond with a nervous laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you settle more comfortably in your seat. Taking a sip from your glass, you set it down with a warm smile, intrigued by this unexpected encounter.

"Don't worry, you're the first to come by" you smiled at the man. Throughout the night you shared conversations with the man. Likes and dislikes, hobbies, and interests in goals. He seemed to be the perfect man for you. And he also had the looks to top it all off!

After the blind date, you decided to spend some more time with him throughout the few days off you were granted. And you felt as if you were on cloud 9.

He was smart, he was charming, he had a great since of humor. He was someone who you could see yourself in the future with, and you were excited to start a more romantic chapter in your life.

It seemed that more time you spent with him, the stronger your feelings for him grew. It seemed as if everything fell into place effortlessly. From shared interests to compatible personalities, you couldn't help but envision a future together.

You explored the city together, trying new restaurants, visiting art galleries, and enjoying long walks in the park. Each moment spent with him felt like a magical adventure, filled with laughter and meaningful conversations. You discovered common values and goals, and it only deepened your connection.

It seemed that now you were back at work all you could do was think about your blind date, he was in your every thought. He made you swoon over a single text and you smile in the worst of situations. And it seemed that every one around the office seems to notice it.

Even your boss

"L/n."

"Yes, Dynamight?" You ask, currently occupied sneaking a good morning text to your date. It was currently the beginning of the new week back from your much needed break and you were in your boss's office attending to his regular needs.

"Strike two," he says with a cold tone.

Eyes snapping up from your phone your face is puzzled, you find your boss holding a piece of paper. Looking closer you grow warm in embarrassment. It was a random loose leaf paper of writing—words consisting you having your dates last name and next date ideas scattered all over it.

"It's a strict policy we have here...keep your romantic endeavors outside of work, you of all people should know that." He says, voice stern and strong he stands from his chair and walks close towards you.

Looking up towards him, you can't help but feel small in comparison to his towering stature. Your eyes are caught like a deer in headlights, and your words stumble out in a nervous jumble. "I'm sorry, Dynamight… it won't happen again," you say softly, feeling a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. Dynamight takes the paper, crumpling it up and shoving it into your palm with a dismissive gesture. "Right," he says coyly, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. Without another word, he turns and walks away, and you instinctively follow suit.

You both make your way down to the basement of the building, where a private parking lot reserved for top employees and heroes awaits. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished gravel reverberates in the air as you quickly catch up to Dynamight's wide strides. As you look ahead, you notice a chauffeur stepping out of the driver's seat of a sleek, black luxury SUV. The chauffeur promptly walks over to open the door, extending a hand to assist you and the pro-hero.

With a graceful movement, Dynamight steps into the car, his air of confidence barely contained. You roll your eyes discreetly at his cocky demeanor, feeling the need to apologize for his behavior. You offer two bows, a gesture of remorse on his behalf, before you enter the vehicle and take a seat next to the hero. An awkward silence settles in, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine.

Pursing your lips, you reach into your bag and retrieve your laptop, determined to focus on your work despite the tension in the air. As you power up your computer, the glow of the screen illuminates your face, casting a faint light on the dim interior of the car. The atmosphere becomes charged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, both of you immersed in your own thoughts.

The vehicle glides smoothly through the city streets, the passing lights painting fleeting patterns on the windows. The occasional honk or distant siren breaks the silence, but the air between you remains heavy with unspoken words. You steal quick glances at Dynamight, observing his strong profile and the focused expression on his face. The hero's presence, despite the strained circumstances, evokes a sense of awe and admiration within you.

As you settle into your work, the rhythmic tapping of your fingers on the keyboard provides a comforting backdrop to the journey. The clacking sound mixes with the muffled sounds of the bustling city, creating a symphony of movement and activity outside the vehicle.

Minutes turn into a hushed passage of time, and although the silence may be uncomfortable, it also holds a sense of intrigue. The shared experience of this car ride becomes a silent connection, a shared space where unspoken thoughts and unexpressed emotions linger. Each passing moment brings you closer to your destination, both physically and emotionally, and the anticipation of what lies ahead intertwines with the subtle electricity in the air.

Lost in your own thoughts, you glance up from your work, meeting Dynamight's gaze in a brief moment of eye contact. A flicker of understanding passes between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension and the complexities of your relationship. In that shared glance, you find a glimmer of hope, a glimpse of the possibility for a deeper connection beyond the surface-level interactions.

With renewed determination, you return your focus to your work, hoping that this car ride, filled with its awkward silence and unspoken words, may lead to a turning point, a chance for both of you to bridge the gaps that exist between you.

"So… who's the guy?" Dynamight breaks the thick tension in the air, causing you to pause from your typing and look at him with a rather shocked expression. "I'm not permitted to tell you that information, Dynamight," you say, maintaining a professional tone. The pro hero rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with your response.

"Fuck the rules, I'm your boss," he retorts, contradicting himself with a hint of frustration. You swallow nervously and shift your gaze to the window, observing the bustling city of Japan at such an early hour.

"I met him during my week off. He's a good guy, and we're attracted to each other–"

"That's it?" Dynamight interjects with a snort, and you blink, trying to restrain yourself from showing your irritated state. "Well… I'm not exactly comfortable discussing my personal life in detail," you respond politely, hoping to defuse the tension. However, as you glance over, you notice Dynamight giving you an unamused look. He soon adjusts in his seat and leans his head back, signaling his disinterest in further conversation.

"Whatever," he says dismissively. Another ten minutes of silence ensues, during which you become engrossed in your work, typing away on your computer. However, before you can enter another character, a sudden bump in the road causes the car to shake roughly. Holding onto your computer tightly, you look over to see Dynamight sound asleep.

Sitting up and adjusting in your seat, you continue to gaze at him, noticing how peaceful he looks when he's asleep. Almost like a porcelain statue, he remains still, without a flaw on his face. Every scar, bump, and bruise seems to be placed perfectly on his skin.

Feeling a warm sensation, you avert your gaze, closing your laptop. Unfortunately, you have to wake the hero. Reaching over, you gently shake him. With a groan, he swats away your hand rather harshly, inadvertently displaying his strength. "We're nearing your destination, Dynamight," you say coldly.

He looks at you with a tired nod, adjusting himself in his seat as he glances out the window. "What do you have for me, maid?" he asks, his tone flat. Pressing your lips into a line, you let out a sigh before reaching into your bag to retrieve a collection of papers. Handing them to the pro-hero, you say, "It's the congratulations ceremony for young aspiring heroes, mostly middle school age. I provided their names and ages. I gave you these papers a week before we left, hoping you had memorized their faces as well."

"Alright… what else?" he replies, sounding slightly more engaged.

"Give them a handshake, a hug or two, and don't forget to smile," you inform him, reciting the instructions word for word.

As the car continues its journey, the atmosphere remains filled with a mix of tension and professionalism with maybe a hint of an attempt at small talk. The cityscape rushes by, the hum of the engine creating a steady rhythm. In this moment, you prepare yourself mentally for the upcoming event, hoping to navigate the complexities of your relationship with Dynamight while fulfilling your duties as his secretary.

Looking out the window, you watch as the large crowd grows sporadic at the sight of your vehicle pulling into the event driveway. A mixture of fans of every age and shape, gleefully cheering for the hero's appearance. Letting out a tired sigh, you look over and see your boss not excited at all.

The both of you lock eyes, as you both share a moment of fondness. Sharing the same feelings, absolute dread. Signaling your hand towards your mouth, you mouth the word "smile!" gleefully before shutting back to your regular relaxed frown.

Before you know it, the chauffeur hurriedly opens your door, and the cheers of citizens grow ten times louder than before. Showing a small smile towards the crowd, you step out and give a bow to the awaiting audience. Stepping away from the vehicle, you observe as the groggy asshole you call your boss transforms into a complete character. A confident yet cocky smile paints over his face as he raises his fists in the air and flexes his muscles. You can't help but feel a slight sense of awe as you watch him.

Shielding your face from the flash of paparazzi cameras, you make your way into the building, guided by an assistant. They lead you to a VIP powder room where, like a flip of a switch, the corporate smile fades effortlessly. Dynamight wearily trudges his feet to the open pink couch and collapses onto it with a loud thud.

Grabbing a water bottle, you hand it to him and take a seat beside him. With a slight curve in your back, you exhale, feeling the weight of the day so far. Staring deadpan into the void, you listen to the loud gulps as Dynamight quenches his thirst. A burp follows suit, and he casually tosses the empty water bottle into the trash.

Soon, you hand him the piece of paper with the children's names on it. Your boss glances over it, reading each name. However, he quickly loses interest and looks at you with a puzzled expression.

"What's he like?" he asks, attempting to revisit the unsuccessful conversation from the car. "That's none of your business, I'm sorry," you respond professionally. This prompts the pro hero to groan aloud. "Drop the act and just tell me!" he demands.

You don't know what's in the air, but today of all days, you've reached your breaking point.

"I said no, goddamn it!" you yell at him, frustration boiling over. Dynamight's expression shifts from irritated to irate, but before he can get a word in, an assistant from the event venue barges in.

"We're ready for you in 3 minutes!" they announce joyfully. Both of you turn abruptly towards the voice, and just as quickly, they disappear, slamming the door behind them. Dynamight slowly rises from his seat, rolling up the papers you provided into a scroll.

Walking away from you without uttering another word, he leaves you sitting there, throwing your hand to your face. Cursing to yourself, you sink deeper into your seat, reflecting on the intense exchange and the upcoming event that demands your attention.

As you stand in the crowd, you watch the pro-hero speak to his audience. Programmed to say whatever needed for the sake of his image, you wondered if anyone knew how much of an asshole he really was compared to just word of mouth.

You wondered if anyone truly knew him like you did, you wondered if anyone truly knew what it felt like to be in your shoes for one day. To see how much you suffered by sumply co-exhisting with a man like him.

"Looking a little low on battery there, Y/n?" a voice says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at the voice and gasp in shock. It's your blind date. "Holy shit, what are you doing here?" you exclaim with excitement oozing from your tone. Reaching out, you hug him tightly, and he returns the embrace.

As you release from his grip, you lock eyes with each other. "I'm reporting for a story, you know, heroes giving back to the public and all that crap. What about you?" he asks.

"Oh, same," you quickly reply, deciding to keep your true situation a secret.

Around 30 minutes or so pass as the both of you try to catch up on the lost time. The sounds of crowd laughter fill the air, but amidst the noise, his voice is the only one that seems to filter through to you.

"Hey, I was thinking… if you're free after this, we could grab a coffee and a bite to eat and talk some more?" he shyly suggests. A sparkle twinkles in your eyes at the offer. "Of course, I would love to! I'm totally free after this—"

"Yeah, she's gonna be really fucking free after this!"

Dynamight's voice cuts through your conversation like sharp ice. Your eyes snap towards him, your brows furrowed in confusion. Before you can react, you feel a strong grip on your arm as Dynamight forcefully drags you away with an ungodly strength.

Protesting and yelling, you try to resist his hold, but Dynamight remains relentless. He leads you back into the VIP room and slams the door shut behind you. Throwing you onto the couch, he stands towering before you, his expression filled with anger and frustration. Exhausted from the ordeal, you look at him with a mix of distraught and defiance, huffing your breath in an attempt to regain composure.

"What is wrong with you?" you spit out, your voice tinged with anger. His eyes widen in disbelief. "What's wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you!" he yells, his voice echoing in the small room. You plead with him, aware of the presence of other people nearby. "Dynamight, please, there are people around! Let's talk calmly."

"You think I give a shit? After you fucking embarrassed me while being too busy being dickmatized?" He screams, his frustration reaching its peak. Unable to control his anger, he grabs the papers from the table and hurls them at you. Flinching at his violent outburst, you shield yourself from the incoming papers.

The room falls into an uneasy silence as you both catch your breath. The tension hangs heavily in the air, leaving you feeling emotionally drained and disheartened. You had never expected things to escalate like this. The weight of whatever mistake and the consequences of your actions begin to weigh heavily on you.

"Look through those fucking papers and tell me what the hell the issue is," he says coldly, his voice laced with frustration. Grabbing the paper harshly from his hand, you meticulously examine each page, your gaze fixed on the words. The weight of his expectation hangs heavily in the air.

As you pour over the papers, your eyes scan every line, every word, searching for any trace of error. The room is filled with tense silence, broken only by the sound of rustling paper. You can feel his eyes boring into you, his impatience growing with each passing second.

Looking up, you finally meet his gaze, your expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "What is supposed to be wrong here?" you spit out, unable to hide the frustration in your voice. The knot of tension in your stomach tightens.

His voice drips with anger as he snaps, "The fucking kids' names are mixed up, L/n! The goddamn names! The whole fucking crowd was laughing at me, and one of the kids cried because I said the wrong name!" His face reddens, veins pulsating with anger.

Your heart sinks as the realization hits you like a punch to the gut. The gravity of your mistake hangs heavy in the room. Swallowing hard, you feel a lump form in your throat, making it difficult to speak.

"I… I'm so sorry, Dynamight," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Rising from the couch, you stand before him, your body tense with remorse. In a gesture of humility, you bow deeply, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

The pro-hero's initial anger subsides slightly, replaced by a hint of smug satisfaction. He snorts in response to your apology, relishing in your discomfort. "Don't worry," he taunts, a smug grin playing on his lips. "You'll have all the free time in the world to feel fucking sorry."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, intensifying the heaviness of the situation. It feels as if the ground beneath you has given way, leaving you in a void of disappointment and self-doubt. This wasn't just a simple mistake; it was a strike against your credibility, your competence.

"Strike three," he declares, his voice low and menacing.

"You're out."

"What the hell do you mean you're leaving?" he exclaims, his voice filled with disbelief and a tinge of desperation.

"I'm saying I'm fired, F/n," you reply, your voice heavy with sorrow and resignation. With each item you drop into the cardboard box, the weight of your dismissal grows heavier.

Back at the office, surrounded by the remnants of your professional life, you find yourself immersed in a bittersweet wave of memories. As you gather your belongings, you can't help but reflect on the time you spent as a pro hero secretary. It feels like only yesterday when you embarked on this journey, eager to contribute to the world of heroes.

The mistake you made still lingers in your mind, and you can't shake off the disbelief that accompanies it. You had taken every precaution, painstakingly triple-checking the papers from beginning to end. How could such a crucial error slip through? Doubt and self-blame claw at the edges of your thoughts.

As you pack away your belongings, each item serves as a reminder of the connections you forged during your time here. The laughter shared with colleagues, the triumphs celebrated together, and the bond formed within the walls of this office. It's a painful reminder of what you're leaving behind.

"Strike three, you're out."

His words echo in your mind, amplifying the weight of your failure. The realization that you've lost his trust and respect settles over you like a suffocating cloak. It's a bitter pill to swallow, but you know you must face the consequences of your actions.

In the silence that follows, you gather your thoughts, determined to learn from this experience and regain what you've lost. The road to redemption won't be easy, but you're resolved to prove yourself once again, to earn back the trust you've squandered.

Looking at your empty desk, you notice one more thing left on the table. Grabbing it you frown, a golden plate with your name and occupation. frowning you toss it in your box, but then your friend grabs it back out.

"You can't keep this—" they say with a frown. "You have to return it back to Dynamight so that you don't sell it and stuff. It's what all employees have to do," he explains, his voice soft; tinged with a sense of obligation. Slamming your belongings down with frustration, you snatch the golden plate from his hands and march towards Dynamight's office.

Standing in front of his office door, your face contorts with a frown, your thoughts racing. There are so many things you want to say to this man, but deep down, you know he has heard them all before. Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, the sound echoing through the silence. Footsteps approach from the other side, and soon the door swings open, revealing the towering figure of the pro hero.

As you look up at him, his stern expression doesn't waver. He lets out a weary sigh and gestures for you to come in, motioning to close the door behind you. Obeying his silent command, you step into the room, feeling the weight of the atmosphere envelop you. The ticking of a time clock fills the room, accompanied by the gentle hum of a fan providing a cool breeze that adds to the white noise surrounding you.

Extending your hand, you present the golden plate to Dynamight, the emblem of your job, its significance not lost on either of you. He pushes himself off his desk and walks toward you, his hand reaching to take the plate from your grasp. However, you refuse to let go, tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your face, splashing onto the golden surface.

Your body trembles with uncontrollable emotions as you collapse to your knees, bowing on the floor, your face pressed against the cool surface beneath you. Desperation seeps into your voice as you plead, "Please, I'll do anything… anything."

Moments pass in heavy silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Unexpectedly, Dynamight drops to one knee, bringing himself to your level. His strong grip pulls you up, forcing you to face him, his gaze meeting your tear-stained eyes. Something in his expression softens as he witnesses your vulnerability and brokenness, a side of you he has never seen before.

"There's one thing you can do," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes widen, your heart pounding in your chest, as you sit up straight, eagerly awaiting his next words. "Yes, Dynamight?"

"Marry me."

AHHHHH SHIT I FINALLY FINISHED!!! I literally have no excuse i've just been living life and avoiding this shit like the PLAGUE honey...

ALSO TYSM FOR 700+ FOLLOWERS!

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