#sadly this is the second time I had to write this up
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revui · 2 days ago
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so i have been tasked with explaining myself, by multiple people
i'm gonna start by saying that i'm actually a strong swimmer, but this was in the ocean, so i was outmatched from the beginning. my brothers and i were a bit far from shore, just kinda bobbing on the waves. i had a little flotation device tethered to my wrist because i wanted to relax, and leaning on it was easier than treading water. i wound up a little farther out than either of them, which meant i had to face the shore in order to talk to them, instead of looking at the place where all the waves were coming from. my first of two wise decisions.
i happen to turn around midsentence (second wise decision) and a wave breaks directly into my face - immediate lungful of delicious sea water. and my fun little flotation device does the opposite of its job, as it begins to drag me underwater with the wave before the strap breaks and i am left to the whims of physics, unable to orient myself at all. so i'm underwater, trying to cough up even more water (difficult!), still pushed around by the current, only able to tell where the surface is because occasionally the ocean flips me over and my vision turns white.
my first coherent thought is "oh, so that's where up is." my second coherent thought is "WRITE THIS DOWN." i don't have any paper with me, sadly, so i just flail about for a bit while doing my level best to commit the whole thing to memory until the ocean vomits my body onto the shore. my brothers don't know anything is wrong until they see that the strap of my TREACHEROUS TWO-TIMING flotation device snapped, and they follow me to shore where i am able to properly throw up all the saltwater, like a lady. and i am already trying to totter back to our umbrella so i can open the notes app on my phone. 6/10 experience
being a writer leads to a genuinely helpful but also very stupid kind of mindfulness where you'll be having a sobbing breakdown or the worst anxiety attack of your life and think "okay, I really need to pay attention to how this feels. so I can incorporate it into my fanfiction."
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tirnalilc · 3 days ago
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Oz Cobb x falcone daughter reader.
contains spoilers for the last chapter.
English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes :(.
I hate Oz, but that hate make me write this.
I love you; i'm sorry.
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A tired sigh left her lips. She felt all her bones ache as she walked looking for her husband and Vic. She smiled just thinking about them. Vic had won her heart in so many ways. Victor would be someone powerful in the future, and she would be there to support him along with Oz. 
She saw them in the distance talking; she quickened her pace so she could join in the conversation, only to stop moments later; her whole body paralyzed, even stopping breathing for a few seconds as she witnessed what was happening in front of her. Her heart was begging to stop Oz from what he was doing, but her mind assured her there was a reason behind it. 
Seeing Oz kill Victor with his bare hands left her vulnerable. She turned her back to them as she put a hand to her mouth, covering her sobs. She cried silently until she stopped hearing Vic struggle. She heard the body falling to the ground and tried to wipe her tears quickly as she turned around. She saw Oswald going through Vic's wallet, throwing away his ID, and pulling out the money he had. 
Her husband's eyes met hers as she walked over to them.  
"May I say a final goodbye?" She asked in a whisper, and felt the tears forming in her eyes again. 
Oswald looked at him for a few seconds before nodding. 
"Sure, doll, but make it quick." 
She reached down, caressing Vic's face, lovingly and sadly. She rested her forehead with his.
"In another life you will not have this fate; I hope your family waited for you." 
She kissed his cheek, not caring about getting it wet with her tears. She looked up to see Oswald offering her his hand; she took it with a slight tremor. She looked for the last time at the young man who brought smiles to her face when she was sad, the young man who always helped her reconcile with Oswald, the young man who had so much to live for but got involved with the wrong people. 
They began to walk away, but without seeing him one last time, she sighed heavily, knowing that this was only the beginning with the new ruler of Gotham.  
Victor's death created a before and after; she squeezed Oz's hand tightly and looked at him. 
"He did something wrong, right?" 
"Yes, doll, he couldn't come with us this time." 
And she believed him. Victor earned a place in her heart, but Oz had a bigger place and always will.
At that moment she remembered his father's words.
"Some people were not born for this life, others were always destined and only one wins the power."
As they walk away a proud smile appears on her face, her husband won that power.
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tirnalilc.
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joelsgoldrush · 3 months ago
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“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
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SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.
A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.
*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever
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The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 
Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 
You:
cutie patootie alert
there’s this really handsome guy at the bar
i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before
i think i’m in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 
i didn’t stare at him for too long
otherwise that would’ve been very weird
and no he’s not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 
Allison:
so you’re dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allison 
Allison: 
it’s okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure it’s nobody’s father
wait it’s not mine right?
You:
nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it
Allison:
bitch 
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”
Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 
“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 
“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”
(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”
“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 
“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”
Yeah… that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.
As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”
“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.
“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”
“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”
“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”
“Look, Wolvie. I–”
“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”
“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”
You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”
“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”
“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”
“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”
“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”
“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”
“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”
“Me neither.”
“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”
You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”
But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you aren’t.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”
“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”
“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”
“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
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“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 
Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”
Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”
“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”
“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”
“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”
“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.
“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 
“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.”
“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”
“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”
“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”
“What? No.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”
“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”
You could die at peace.
“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”
“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”
“Now why would you think that?”
“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”
“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”
“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”
“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”
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You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”
You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”
“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”
“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”
“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”
“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”
“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”
“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”
“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”
“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”
“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”
“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, will you?”
“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”
He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 
“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”
“I just... I want to understand you better.”
“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.
“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”
“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”
The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 
Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”
But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”
He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”
“Should I give you some space?”
That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”
“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”
“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 
“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”
“Am I that easily replaced?”
“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”
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Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 
“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”
“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”
You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.
“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”
“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”
“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”
“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”
“Careful.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”
“Get your hands off her.”
Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 
“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”
“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”
“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.
“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”
“Don’t. Now is not the time.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”
“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”
“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”
“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”
You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 
“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”
“Right here? On the counter?”
“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”
“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”
“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”
“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“L-logan–”
“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 
“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”
He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 
“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”
“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”
And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.
“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”
“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”
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part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
11K notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 8 months ago
Text
LIKE YOU DO
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18+ / mdi
summary: when your brother's best friend suddenly reveals his newfound crush on you, you find yourself at a crossroads, thinking back to your own unrequited crush on him from back in middle school, making you wonder if you should be the better person and give him a chance.
content: brother'sbestfriend!seungcheol, frienemies-ish to lovers, reader is jeonghan's adoptive sister of his same age, mentions of previous unrequited crush, lots of unserious banter, afab reader, they're both inexperienced, smut, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.
wc: 7.8k
a/n: this one was kinda short sorry T-T i rlly enjoyed the concept though so it was fun to write! hope u guys enjoy!!
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
"Jeonghan?"
"Yeah?"
"Why does Seungcheol keep showing up during my breaks to bring me coffee?"
"Oh. He's trying to break you down so he can ask you out," He responded in the most nonchalant way possible.
"What? Since when does Seungcheol even like me?"
"Are you kidding? he's had a huge crush on you since we were seventeen."
"Dude, what? Where the hell was that attitude back in middle school when I was following him around like a fucking loser?", you grumbled at the memory of your former unrequited crush.
It was pathetic to think about, but it was true. You had sadly had a tendency to follow your brother and his friend around during the majority of your tweens and teens, always carrying the false hope that Seungcheol would one day look your way. As expected, he never even so much as glanced at you during that period of your life.
It's not like you could blame him. You were just a few years behind the rest of the herd when it came to puberty, you were still donning braces and also had a less than favorable sense of style. By all means, you were a bit of a loser up until turning 16. However, it was still sad to know that the guy of your dreams simply saw you as a nuance he had to deal with in exchange for being able to hang out with your brother.
Except that had been well over two years ago (give or take). By the time you were 16 and a junior in high school, you were confidently over your crush. You had stopped following him around by the time you entered the second half of your teens, but your crush would still occasionally show remnants of itself any time he was around (which was often, as he and Jeonghan were practically attached to the hip). However, it was far more lowkey than before and eventually died down altogether. You were long past those awkward years of tweenhood and now had a developed sense of style, along with an air of confidence you now carried with you. Puberty hit you all at once and your entire persona changed along with it. You had an established group of friends and were even a bit popular, no longer needing to hang around Jeonghan and Seungcheol just for a glimpse of the boy's attention. By the time you were 16, you were over Choi Seungcheol.
This carried over to the last two years of high school, now with a completely different dynamic between you and your former crush. Despite attending the same grades at the same time, you did not belong to the same social circles, so you would not see each other too often. However, since your brother (and brother's best friend) continued to attend the same school as you those last two years of high school, you still bumped into Cheol from time to time, specially whenever Jeonghan would bring him over.
Over the years, Seungcheol came to see you as less of a nuance and more of a friend. After turning 16 (upon your glow up and the dissipation of your crush), he would engage in casual conversation with you. He would even seek you out on his own at times, though you were never too enthusiastic about these meetings. Middle school you would've been elated at such development, but you didn't think much of it after having gotten over your crush, now bitter over how it had all played out so fruitlessly for you.
After having gotten over your crush, you came to resent Seungcheol a bit, now realizing the way he used to sometimes take advantage of your crush to get you to be his lackey and how he would even make you the butt of jokes among his friend group (whenever your brother wasn't around, of course). During the years in which you were infatuated with him, you truly believed it was just some sort of inside joke between the two of you; a 'will they, won't they' type of dynamic. However, upon leaving that childish phase of your life, you began to look back at it in embarrassment. After that, you distanced yourself from him. During ages 16 and up, you would even come to avoid him, something which Jeonghan thankfully never commented on despite having also been aware of your former crush.
And now. Now you were being made privy to the fact that Seungcheol had apparently begun to return your crush only a little over a year after you got over yours. At seventeen, Jeonghan said. That's the year you like to believe you truly got your act together. After your glow up at 16 years of age (appearance and personality-wise), you began to engage in new hobbies, new friend groups, and overall went through a full transformation of your former loser self (or at least that's how Seungcheol had made you feel all those years). You had put all relationship related interests aside since your catastrophic crush on Seungcheol left you high and dry. After graduating, you even left the country for a few months, deciding to start college a semester after your brother to explore the world a bit in order to find yourself before starting school back up again.
That period of time proved very useful to you. You mingled in the arts of casual dating in your absence (something which you had never done thanks to your irremovable crush), made friends, took up new interests, and most of all, grew out of any remnants of your former feelings for Seungcheol.
Except that all came crumbling down the moment you came back, suitcase in hand, and found Seungcheol at the door of your brother's apartment upon your arrival for your move-in day with your brother, which now seemed to include Seungcheol in the equation.
You had been less than elated when your brother suddenly informed you that instead of solely moving in with him in order to begin attending his university, you would now be sharing the apartment with an unwanted guest – Seungcheol. This had been the first time you saw him again after graduating, which had also been your last day to see anyone for the past six months over the duration of your trip.
Since your brother had begun attending school while you took a sabbatical from education, he had found himself an apartment so you would have a place to move into upon your return. The agreement had been for the two of you to be the sole habitants, until Seungcheol suddenly decided to attend the same university as you and your brother, promptly moving in with Jeonghan in your absence. It seemed like that had been the original plan, one which died when Seungcheol simply decided to stay, moving his things out what was supposed to be your room and moving them into what then became a shared room between him and Jeonghan.
This was when you first began to have suspicions about Seungcheol.
Although your crush had died down about two years back, you still felt awkward in his presence. His existence was a constant reminder of his consistent rejection of your feelings, something which had not helped your confidence much in the past. But it now seemed like Seungcheol had been the one seeking you out more than the other way around. Even back when you were saying your goodbyes before leaving on your vacation, Seungcheol had seemed even more disappointed at your prolonged absence than your own brother. You hadn't thought much of it at the time, except that this behavior kept up as the two of you became roommates.
Seungcheol would now walk you to class whenever possible, even when it meant going out of his way. He would lend you notes from the classes he had taken the prior semester; ones which you were currently having to take. He would show up between your classes with either drink or food in hand. He'd stop by your workplace at the school's cafe whenever he had down time. He'd stare down any guy that would try and interact with you in any of these instances. You were completely casual about it, trying to not read too much into it, but the worst thing about it all was that you liked it. You liked the attention he was finally giving you.
Though you were suspicious about Seungcheol's intentions, you had never considered the possibility of Seungcheol actually liking you romantically until your brother had so casually informed you just now. Even through your immediate complaint about it, your heart sped up at the thought. Your mind went back to every single memory of your own crush on him, thinking back to every single thing you used to like about him. Up until the moment in which Jeonghan called your attention once more, having answered your question but receiving no response from you due to the extended internal monologue you had gone through due to the sudden revelation.
"Sorry, what did you say?", you finally responded.
He chuckled at your absent-mindedness, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. "I said that your crush was just puppy love. He can't help that he didn't return your feelings at the time. It's been like what, three years since you got over him? Are you really still mad about it?", replied Jeonghan as he nudged you to eat the muffin he had bought you over twenty minutes ago.
Puppy love? It sure didn't feel like it during all those years in which you pined over him. But maybe Jeonghan was right. Maybe it had simply been interpreted as a harmless crush by both Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Except this did not justify every single remembrance of Seungcheol's constant dismissal and mockery of your feelings through the years, only ever looking your way once you were finally over him.
You took a deep breath, deciding to try and be rational in your response, "He mocked me over my crush for years, Jeonghan. He made me the butt of every joke and took advantage of how into him I was for his own entertainment. He only ever started respecting me when I changed my appearance and personality completely. Why should I even consider giving him a chance?"
"Hey, I'm not telling you to do that. Just keep an open mind, okay? We were kids. I'm sure he meant it all in good fun. You know he can be kind of an idiot at times," he took a pinch of the untouched muffin in front of you, "Is there no part of you that maybe still likes him?"
"Did you come to my workplace to harass me into dating your best friend?", you snatched the muffin away – the muffin he had 'bought' despite getting a discount due to your position as a barista, "I'm not the same loser I was in middle school, I have options."
"Oh, yeah?", he smirked, "Then how come you've never had a boyfriend?"
"I'm only 19, it's not like I've dedicated my entire life to celibacy. If I wanted one I could get one. Easy," you argued, "Are you gonna leave any time soon? I need to get back to work," you began to gather his and your cup to head back to your work duties.
"There's literally no one here," he whined, "And stop dodging my questions. Do you like him? Do you want a relationship or not?", he pushed, "I'm your brother, you're supposed to trust me with this type of stuff."
"Adoptive brother," you corrected as you wiped the table Jeonghan was still sitting at.
"Don't say that. I hate it when you say that," he whined.
"You know what? You're right," you decided, halting your movements.
"I am?"
"Yeah. I should get a boyfriend."
"Oh. You mean someone who isn't Seungcheol, don't you?", he sighed.
"Of course. I'm not just gonna come crawling back to him just because he decided he likes me now. And you're right. Now that I'm over my crush and I'm back home, I should get a boyfriend. Maybe that'll get Cheol off of me," you declared.
"So it is about Cheol then."
"Jeonghan, shut up!"
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Things changed for you after that conversation. Or at least the way you looked at Seungcheol shifted.
While you had questioned why he would suddenly begin showing up as frequently as he did, showing genuine interest in your company, you had not once entertained the thought of him liking you. Jeonghan informing you of his crush in such a nonchalant way also made you realize that Seungcheol had been quite obvious about his sudden liking to you, always becoming standoffish when other guys were around and even carrying your backpack for you.
The thought of him liking you pleased you. Even if you wanted to be in denial about it, your crush finally being reciprocated was something you had given hope on back when you were about 15. However, knowing that Seungcheol only started seeing you in a non platonic way after your feelings had finally dissipated also annoyed you beyond belief. How was it fair? He got to tease you and treat you as if you were nothing but a nuance for years, only to turn around a few years later and decide he wanted you? You weren't about to stand for it.
You meant it when you told Jeonghan that you would consider entering the dating scene.
For years, you hoped Seungcheol would eventually like you back, so you never even as much as looked in anyone else's way. When you got over your crush, your pride was too wounded to even think about romance. The only exception had been during your trip overseas, where you dated boys here and there, but it was never anything that lasted over a few weeks. Now was finally the time to begin dating.
Okay, granted. Maybe part of you was doing this just to give Seungcheol a taste of his own medicine, but that part didn't matter too much. You decided you'd just disregard his crush just like he did yours; drinking in all the extra attention but never doing anything about it
~
"Hey, wait up!"
You slowed down without looking back, able to recognize that voice even in your sleep.
"Forget about me? I always walk you to your next class," he chuckled, breathless, "Uh, here. Got you your favorite," he said as he handed you a beverage of your choice.
"Thanks, Cheol," you replied, disinterested as usual.
Even before knowing about his intentions, you had kept a very clear emotional distance from Seungcheol for the past couple of years. You were sure he was aware that your crush had died down years ago, now leaving you completely indifferent towards him, but he never once brought it up. The most reaction you could gauge out of him was the way he deflated a bit every time you spoke to him and failed to show the same enthusiasm you once did.
"So, any plans this weekend?"
"Oh, yeah. Going on a date," you said nonchalantly.
This made him stop in his tracks, causing you to have to slow down your walking once again to turn back and look at him in feigned interest.
"A date? W-what, with who?", he spluttered, a frown making its way on his face.
"Just some guy I met on tinder," you responded, "C'mon, I need to get to class," you nudged him.
He took your instruction to keep walking, still frowning, "A guy from tinder? You don't even know him? I- Is your brother okay with this?"
"It's not really any of his business, now, is it?", you scoffed.
"Since when are you even dating anyway? I thought you needed time to 'find yourself'. Isn't that the whole reason you were gone for half a year?", grumbled Seungcheol.
"Not like it's any of your business, but yeah, I am dating. I'm 19, it's not like I've never dated. I went on dates while I was traveling. It's not that big of a deal."
"You dated? What? And you never told me?"
This made you stop in your tracks, turning to him and making him halt too.
"'Tell you'? Why would you need to know anything about my dating life? We're not even friends."
"Oh, so now we're not friends? I've known you literally since the day Jeonghan's parents brought you home and now we're not friends?", he was beginning to get agitated, you could tell.
Pushing his buttons was fun at first, but now you were also starting to feel frustration at his entitlement over you.
"As far as I can remember, we've never been friends. You just liked the attention I gave you and made a joke of me for years. Is that friendship to you?"
"We- we shouldn't talk about this here, okay?" he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of you, but saw that only a few other students were walking by, completely unsuspecting.
"You know what, Cheol? Thanks for the drink. I can get to class alone. I'll see you at home," you snatched your bag from his arms and marched away, leaving a confused Seungcheol behind.
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"Cheol told me you guys got into a fight," was the first thing Jeonghan said as he walked into your workplace at 7:30 sharp in the morning.
"God, it's bad enough I have to live with the two of you, do you need to gossip about me too?"
"I told you about his crush in confidence! I can't believe you'd betray my trust like this," he said with zero emotion behind his words.
"No you didn't."
"No I didn't", he giggled, "Give me my usual, yeah?", he took a seat on the counter right in front of you, grabbing a nearby muffin to accompany the drink you were now making him.
"So you're really dating now?", he inquired after less than five seconds of silence.
"How much did Seungcheol tell you?"
"He gave me a rundown of the entire conversation."
You groaned at this. Men were truly the nosier gender.
"Yes, I'm going on a date with some guy from one of my classes tomorrow."
"I thought you said he was from tinder?"
"I just assumed it'd annoy Cheol even more if he thought I was choosing some random guy over him."
"That's mean", he pouted, followed by a grin, "Good job."
You handed him his drink and took a moment to sit down from your side of the counter, sighing dramatically at your brother.
"Are you really not interested in Cheol at all?", he rubbed at your arm to show comfort.
"I ... Maybe? I liked him for so long. It's hard for that to just go away, specially knowing he likes me back. But I can't just let him win me over so easily, you know?"
"Maybe you should talk to him? Let him explain his thought process and see if it's worth giving him a chance."
"Maybe," you sighed.
"Not 'maybe.' You're talking to him. Spending a single night with the two of you while you were icing each other out was enough for me. I told him I'd stay somewhere else tomorrow night so the two of you can talk after your date. It's a done deal."
"Dude! Can you stop making decisions for me? I-"
"I'm your older brother. It's in the fine print," he argued.
"Adoptiv-"
He grabbed the muffin and put it to your lips, interrupting your sentence, "That's enough of that."
You opted to just let him win (yet again) and mentally prepare yourself for your conversation with Seungcheol the following day.
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Joshua.
That was the name of the guy you'd be going on a date with this afternoon.
He was cute, polite, smart, and seemed to be an overall great guy based on the few interactions you'd had with him during class. He was actually who you used to walk to class with before Seungcheol had intercepted your routine by forcing his way into your schedule.
You weren't particularly excited about going on this date. Joshua was the perfect guy by all means, but you didn't feel any type of spark when you were with him. You were pretty sure he didn't either. It was hard to tell. Nothing really compared to the way you felt for Seungcheol during the majority of your teens. You doubted you'd ever crush on someone so hard ever again.
You had never admitted it out loud, but you were pretty sure your crush on Seungcheol had at some point become love. You didn't just like Seungcheol, you (had) loved him, which made getting over your infatuation even harder. It had also made that unbecoming feeling of rejection much harder to let go of. The reminder of the constant rejection you had gone through was enough to not even entertain the idea of looking at Seungcheol with the same enamored eyes you always reserved for him ever again.
And so now you were getting ready for your date. Whether anything came of it didn't matter too much to you. You needed to show both Seungcheol and your brother that you were truly over Seungcheol. That you wouldn't fall for him when it was finally convenient for him.
~
The date was overall nice.
The two of you had opted for something casual, deciding to an arcade and have a casual meal that consisted of nachos and some convenience store ramen afterwards.
The date felt like an outing you'd have with any other friend. Maybe because that's what it actually was in the end.
It didn't take too much time into your date for both you and Joshua to say what you were thinking – You were better off as friends. You both chuckled at it, finding it comedic how you had both had the same thought, meaning there would be no hard feelings at the end of the day.
The night was spent playing games and bantering with one another. It was a casual and quite relaxing outing between two friends. Which is what left Joshua to inquire as to why you had asked him out in the first place as he walked you back to your apartment.
"There's, uh, this guy I'm trying to get over," you decided to be honest with him. You could really see a friendship forming here, plus he seemed like a trustworthy guy, so lying would be fruitless.
"Ah. Makes sense", he clicked his tongue, "Is it Choi Seungcheol by any chance?"
That caught you off guard. And it must've shown in your face, as Joshua chuckled in return before continuing.
"I've just noticed the two of you together a lot lately, that's all. What's the story?"
If only Joshua had known about the length of the story you were about to tell him, he likely would not have asked, but the simple question was enough to fire you up and let him in on every excruciating detail.
By the end of it, Joshua's face had gone through every reaction. From surprised, to angry (likely in empathy), to apprehensive.
"Well, he sounds like he was a dick in high school-"
"Right!"
"But ...."
"'But'?!"
"Listen. You were what, 15? Guys are so dumb at that age. I did my fair share of dumb things. And having a pretty girl be so into you at that age would give any guy a huge ego. Maybe he's being honest about his feelings," he had reasoned.
"Why is everyone on his side? What, am I supposed to just forgive him?"
"Of course not. But maybe part of you still likes him. You shouldn't let your pride get in the way of finally being with the guy you like."
That last statement had left you thinking.
You already had doubts about your feelings for Cheol, knowing that your conflict towards his newfound feelings was enough indication to realize that you might've still been holding a torch for him.
But it was his comment about pride that really had you reconsidering things.
Was it really just your pride stopping you from even giving Seungcheol a chance?
The way that you saw it, if you gave in to Seungcheol now that he finally liked you back, it only proved how weak you were for him, how easy it was for him to just snap his fingers and have you at his feet once again.
But you also needed to consider the fact that he had liked you since seventeen. You were both nineteen now, going on twenty. He had held back on his feelings for two years, hoping that you'd someday reciprocate once more. Clearly he wasn't hoping to use your old crush against you, or else he would've done so already.
These conflicting thoughts plagued your mind all the way until Joshua hugged you goodbye at your apartment door, while you were unaware of Seungcheol watching the two of you with a frown from the small window behind you, completely misreading the situation.
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"Joshua Hong? That's the guy you're dating?", were the first words he said to you when you walked in, fully washed with venom and disdain.
This was starting off well.
"Were you spying on me?"
"You didn't answer my question," he rebutted.
You walked past him and let yourself fall back on the couch, sighing at the conversation you knew was awaiting.
"Cheol. Stop beating around the bush by snooping into my life," you started, the beating of your heart betraying the confidence in your voice, "Jeonghan told me you wanted to talk, so talk."
"Is there even a point? If you're already taken, do I even have a chance?", he chuckled bitterly, taking a seat across from you on a lone loveseat.
Oh.
This was the first time Seungcheol had ever acknowledged his romantic feelings towards you in the two years in which he's supposedly had them. It made you feel weak to admit it, but that statement alone already had your resolve melting.
"I- I'm not taken. Joshua and I are just friends."
"You came back home together at 10. You're wearing a skirt. I saw the two of you hug outside. Am I missing something?", he scoffed.
"Dude, I- What? Those are all completely platonic things. Not like you have any right to complain anyways .." you trailed off.
"Okay, if it's not a date then why did you tell me it was one on Wednesday? Huh?"
"Because I wanted you to know what it felt like!", you blurted, abruptly getting up from the couch.
"What? You-"
"It's not fair, Seungcheol! I liked you. For years. And you never looked my way. You made fun of me, you used me, you ignored me. I was just some dumbass who couldn't take a hint, and now you like me? Now you wanna know who I'm dating and who I like? Hah," you were halfway through your rambles before you realized it.
He got up from his spot and walked over to you, solemn and hurt look on his face. He seemed embarrassed by your statement, though also accepting of it.
"You- you're right. I never took you seriously. I ... I always just saw you as Jeonghan's weird little sister, I-"
"We're the same age!"
"Okay, but Jeonghan was always so protective towards you, I always thought of you as a little kid. I'm sorry, I know how harsh and unfair that sounds, but I don't want to lie to you. I don't know what changed, or when it did, but I- at some point I just couldn't stop thinking about you," he breathed out.
"Hah," you chuckled bitterly, "Was this when I changed my look, Cheol? Are you that shallow?"
"N-no! Listen, I know the timing was bad, but it wasn't that. I always thought you were pretty. I know you probably didn't see it for yourself, and ... I know my teasing probably didn't help your confidence, – and that's something I regret so badly – but you've always been beautiful. It had nothing to do with that, I swear," he held his hand to his chest as if to swear by his words.
You couldn't help blushing at his words, avoiding eye contact for a moment before responding.
"Then what was it?"
"I guess I just missed you", he shrugged sadly, "I got so used to having you around and to knowing how much I meant to you. I took you for granted, and I regretted it the moment I lost you," it was his turn to feel embarrassed, "When you stopped seeking me out, I finally began to see what you were like past your crush. You were so fun and carefree. So nice and, and beautiful. You saw me in rose-colored glasses and I just didn't see you at all. Not until then," he finished.
"What does this all mean, Cheol?" you said, almost exasperated, "Am I supposed to forget the way you'd mock me or just straight up ignore me for years? Yeah, sure, we were kind of beginning to become friends once high school was almost over, but it didn't mean anything to me by that point. I was just over it."
"And are you over me?"
"What?"
He lifted his eyebrow in question, taking a few steps towards you.
"Are you really completely over me? Do you feel nothing at all?", his eyes were confidently following your gaze as he questioned you.
"I- Yes, I am," you gulped unwillingly, taking a few steps back as he took some forward.
"I don't believe that. I mean, you left only for a few months and I never stopped thinking about you ... There's no way you got over me that suddenly, is there?"
"You think too highly of yourself, Cheol-"
"So you feel nothing at all?", he had made his way into your personal space by now, almost crowding you against the wall, "Aren't you curious, at least? Don't you wanna see if there's anything left?", he breathed out.
"I, Cheol, I-"
"Just tell me no. Push me away. Tell me to fuck off and I'll leave you alone," his gaze fell to your lips, slowly making its way back to your eyes again.
"I can't, I ... Cheol ..."
Due to your lack of rejection, Seungcheol closed the gap, gently pressing his lips against you as he let out a breath of relief in his kiss.
You'd kissed a few boys during your time away. Hell, you'd even kissed Joshua earlier today, but neither of those experiences had felt quite like this. During all those exchanges, Seungcheol had always somehow been in the back of your mind, making you wonder what it would've been like if he had been the guy you were kissing instead. Now you finally knew what it was like ... And you were already growing addicted.
It was only a few seconds into the kiss when the two of you let your desire for the other take over. He groaned against your lips as you ran your hands through his hair, pulling his face as close to your own as possible. His hands ran down to your waist and caressed your back in a way far too desperate for the first kiss shared between the two of you.
With no words, he kissed you until running out of breath, eventually lowering his head so he could attack your neck with licks and nips to the sensitive skin on there. You leaned your head to the side, allowing him more room to suck into as he rejoiced in your sighs of pleasure.
It was a mutual exchange. The two of you seemed to be equally desperate for the other, your wandering hands never halting in the exploration of the other's body. His hands eventually dared to venture under your top, slowly sneaking their way towards your breasts. He kissed your lips once more as his hands caressed and played with your tits, moaning against your mouth every time you'd whine at his touches.
"Angel ...", he breathed against your lips, "Are you still sure? Are you still sure you don't want me?", his words were slightly muffled by his inability to disconnect from you for more than a second.
"I need- fuck, Cheol ... Just-"
"I know ... It's okay. You don't have to say it," he pushed his tongue into your mouth once again.
Cheol separated from you and led you to your room by your hand, closing the door before pressing you up against it and kissing you again.
The way he kissed you was nothing but sensual and full of emotion, making you forget any complaint you had against him as his lips connected to yours again and again.
His hands took advantage of your caged in position, feeling up every curve and squeezing at his favorite parts. There was a depraved urgency behind his movements, almost as if he had been aching to do this; burning to finally have you to his full disposition. When he seemingly had his fill of caressing every inch, he pulled away barely enough to speak (which had been a feat, as your lips desperately followed his, and his own were unable to resist yours at first).
"Let me take you to bed," be begged, "I've wanted you for years. Please, let me have you," he plead against your lips, giving you a languid peck as he finished his request.
"Cheol ..."
He pulled away a bit more at the hesitancy in your voice, "I know I was an asshole. I know I hurt you for years. I know I don't deserve you," he took a deep breath before intensely looking into your eyes, "but I can't stop thinking about you. If you ever felt even an ounce of what I've felt towards you since we were seventeen, then I'm so sorry to have caused you such pain. I was a stupid teenager who felt too cool to look your way long enough to realize you were far too good for me. Please. Please, I'll beg if you want me to , just ... Give me a chance," he finished with a pained expression in his eyes, voice wavering by the end of his speech.
"You made me feel like such an idiot, like-"
"I'm the idiot – Me! You're perfect," he grabbed onto your hands and brought them up to his lips, "I love you. So much. Jeonghan's so fed up of hearing me tell him how in love with you I am. All my friends know how I feel about you. I'll embarrass myself time and time again proving it to you," dropping your hands, he wrapped his arms around you again, bringing you closer to him as his eyes dropped to your lips.
That had been a shock.
You had never expected for Seungcheol's feelings to be anything more than superficial, much less did you expect for him to confess to you in such a way. The thought of him gushing about you to his friends was enough to make you blush, but knowing that he was willing to prove his feelings for you as much as you saw fit made you weak at the knees. This was all you had ever wanted, tenfold. If your current reaction to his revelation was anything to go by, then you were now realizing that your feelings for him had never truly gone away. You had carried a torch for Seungcheol all these years, even when you thought you had completely gotten over him. Even when you weren't thinking of him, he was always plaguing your mind.
And so you kissed him.
You put all previous hesitancy aside and followed your desires, pulling him to you as you let passion take over.
He didn't question you, choosing to press you up against him instead, blindly walking the two of you towards your bed and laying you down in it, crawling on top of you once more to keep kissing you.
No words were exchanged for a while, the only sounds filling up the room were made up of your collective moans and the ruffling of the bedsheets – result of the way you were feeling each other up. You were glad Jeonghan had decided to stay elsewhere tonight. Hell, he probably knew the two of you would snap and end up in the way you evidently did.
Pulling away for a quick moment, Seungcheol pulled away and threw off his shirt, causing the cloudiness in your mind to clear up for a moment so you could lean up and run your hands through his bare chest, earning a chuckle from him.
"Like what you see?", he smirked like the cockiest shit you'd ever seen, except it kinda worked on you regardless.
But you couldn't let him have the upper hand here, so you did what any sensible girl would do and threw off your own top, leaving you in a pretty lacy bralette.
The smirk wiped off his face immediately as his eyes lowered to your breasts. To make matters worse for him, you decided to sensually pull off your bra, making a little show out of it just to see how much lust would overtake him at the sight.
"Fuck ...", he muttered, leaning down so he could get his hands on you.
You stopped him before he could, however. Smirking at him, "You have to ask, Cheollie."
"Angel ... Don't play this with me."
"Ask, or else you can't touch me."
"I- Fuck. Please. Can I touch them?," he breathed out, eyes still glued to your chest as you played with your own mounds just to mock him.
You nodded, taking his arms and leading them to your chest.
He took full advantage of this, feeling you up like a starved man devouring his last meal. His mouth joined in on the fun soon after, kissing and licking at your nipples, groaning whenever your hands would pull at his hair.
He undressed the rest of you during the following minutes, making quick work of your shoes, his own, and your skirt. His pants were the last to go, leaving the two of you in just your underwear.
"Help me take it off?", he led your hands to his hardened cock, hooking your fingers on his boxers so you could get them off for him. You pulled his face down to your own and sucked on his tongue as your other hand aided him in removing his boxers. He did the same to your panties, finally crawling on top of you again, with your bare crotches finally facing one another.
"Fuck, I want you so bad," he breathed against your lips, beginning a slow grind against your cunt.
You ground against each other like animals in heat for a while, losing your breaths with the other's lips. The way his hardened length graced your folds with the perfect friction had you getting wetter by the second, making you wail against his lips.
"Can I eat you out, baby?," he groaned into your mouth, a desperate look in his eyes.
"Y-yes, fuck," you cried.
He kissed at your nude body on his way down, licking and sucking splotches of red and purple wherever he could until reaching your thighs, using his strong arms to open them and wedge himself between them.
"God ... Been dreaming of kissing up these thighs for years. You're so fucking gorgeous, do you even know?", he sounded pained as he said so, pressing soft kisses at the softest part of your thighs, "Dreamt about you since were seventeen," he blew cold air into your cunt, causing you to retract a bit.
"Cheol ..."
"Is this how you felt? Huh? Did you want me just as badly as I did you?", he finally gave you an experimental lick, groaning at the taste, "But you never got over me, did you? That's good," he nodded to himself, licking more and more, "That way I get to keep you," and that was all he could say before his mouth became fully occupied by your cunt.
And he was right. Even as your crush died down, you got older and began to have thoughts about him. Thoughts that accompanied you on the many lonely nights while you were abroad and away from him. During all those nights in which you swore you were over him. It was nice to know that you'd had a similar effect on him these past few years.
You didn't have much time to ponder about it as Seungcheol quite literally lost himself between your legs. His arms proved to be as strong as they looked, forcing your legs open even as the stimulation made you try and close them around his head. His groans of pleasure against your weeping cunt did not help matters, simply leading you to your end all the faster.
"Fucking delicious, fuck. No one's ever had this before, right, beautiful? You've been saving this cunt for me? Hmm?", he slurred his words while he made out with your pussy, groaning once more when you whimpered in confirmation, "Need to taste you, angel. Cum for me, fuck. Wanna be the first one to feel you like this," he rambled, delirious on your taste.
And you were equally as delirious, falling apart for him almost as if your body had been following his direction. He continued to make sinful sounds against your cunt as he tasted you all through your high, making you even more lightheaded than you already were.
Giving you no time to recover, Seungcheol climbed atop you once more and made you swallow any words you may have had by sealing your lips with his own, forcing your the remnants on your taste onto your own tongue. You battled each other like this once more, hands careless as they grabbed at one another in desperation.
"C-condom?", be pulled away to ask.
"No, Cheol. I- You don't carry?", you managed to let out.
"I, No. I- I've never ..."
He looked uncharacteristically bashful, making you tilt your head in curiosity. Until it hit you.
"You're a virgin?"
He pulled away at this, sitting up a bit on the bed and creating a small distance between the two of you.
"It's not- I've done stuff before, just not ... this. I, uh, I was waiting for you," he confessed, forcing his eyes away from your gaze.
This broke your heart, but in a good way.
If you had any remnants of doubt in your mind about his sincerity about his crush, they were gone now. He had waited. For you. He wanted you to be his first, so he waited for you to come back. He waited for you to like him again. In the same way you had never seriously dated anyone before, he waited.
"Cheol ..."
He must've misinterpreted your tone, as he continued to refuse eye contact with you, seemingly embarrassed at being a virgin for some reason.
So you took matters into your hands, grabbing onto him with a confident hand and pulling him into you once more. With some unexpected strength, you managed to switch positions with him, now straddling him as his back laid against your mattress.
Before he could question you, you kissed him again, this time with a passion you knew you could only reserve for Seungcheol. He kissed you back with equal want, making you feel like you'd reached a stage of nirvana no one had ever before. Every emotion behind the kiss was far too intense to even describe.
The rest of the exchange was almost wordless, with a few silences being filled by praise for one another. You finally sat yourself down on him, condomless, but not regretful at all for your decision. If you were to ever let anyone impale you without filter, it'd be him.
The bruises he left on your hips were accepted with delight. It was only fair, seeing as your nails also left marks on his chest. The two of you left your mark on the other; a silent way of letting the other know who they belonged to.
You bounced and ground on top of him, almost wailing at the way in which his hands guided your movements in such a desperate way. At some point you began shamelessly humping against each other, filling the space with depraved sounds of pleasure.
Cheol looked down to the spot connecting you, groaning upon seeing the wetness seeping from your cunt, but decidedly bringing a hand towards your mound in order to toy with your clit. The arch of your back and extra tightness of your cunt were enough for his orgasm to approach more rapidly than planned.
"With me," he rasped, "Cum with me ... Need your first time to be with me. Just like this."
You barely registered his words. Your eyes were already rolled back, and your back arched almost to the point of breaking. Your toes completely curled and your nails digging into his reddened chest. But you understood, and your body acted accordingly, bringing you into orgasm as he softly counted you down, leading to an almost perfectly synchronized high.
A few moments of comfortable silence (sans the heavy breathing) went by before Seungcheol carefully pulled out of you with a low groan and did his best at cleaning you up with some kleenex near your bed. He gave you a soft peck after he was done, settling the two of you under the covers and held you in his arms.
"Always wanted this part too."
"Hmm?"
"To hold you like this", he clarified, smiling down at you.
Blushing involuntarily, you agreed, cuddling further into his warm chest, leading him to softly run his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner.
"I meant everything I said. I'll always regret treating you the way I did. There's no reason why you should, but I hope you'll forgive me," he sounded pained at his own words, likely feeling genuine hatred for the way in which he behaved during your early teenage years.
You pulled away from his chest, creating a small distance between you so you could look into his eyes properly.
"Seungcheol, I ... I love you," you started, "And I forgive you. I was wrong to judge you so harshly for not liking me the way I wanted you to back then. I'm sorry for letting my pride get in the way. I shouldn't have iced you out after I got over you. It was the only way at the time to protect myself from the rejection and-"
"Stop," he went to hold your cheeks in his hands, "You have nothing to apologize for. You forgiving me is all I wanted, and ... and knowing you feel the same is more than I was ever expecting. We'll move past all that, okay?"
"Okay," you nodded sweetly.
"Now ... Is it too soon to ask you to be official?"
"You waited until after popping my cherry to ask me out?", you laughed.
"In my defense ..."
"You have none!"
"Okay, whatever! Just say yes so Jeonghan doesn't continue to suffer through my rants about how much I like his sister," he pulled you into his arms again, returning your laughter.
"Fine! Yes! We're official," you feigned annoyance, but were unable to not mimic his own smile.
It had taken far too long, but you finally had the upper hand. He liked you. He asked you out. He was yours. The wait had been worth it.
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To read short 2k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!
content: smut, penetrative sex, deprived cheol, banter with jeonghan, etc.
wc: 989 (teaser); 2009 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"Okay, I need the two of you to get the hell out of my apartment."
That had been the way in which Jeonghan welcomed the two of you upon walking in on you and Seungcheol calmly watching a movie together in your shared living room.
It had now been three months since you and Seungcheol began officially dating. Since you were roommates, this also meant that you were now living with your boyfriend. Despite the fact that Cheol and your brother shared a room together (leaving you with a room of your own), Seungcheol still had the tendency of spending a few nights per week sleeping over at your room.
So far, the dynamic between the three of you hadn't changed too much. The biggest difference was that now you and Seungcheol finally developed more of a friendship than you had during the period of time between high school and college in which you had begun to ice him out in order to protect your own feelings. That, however, died down as soon as you moved in, eventually leading to your current romantic relationship with each other.
Jeonghan had been happy for you, having known that if he forced the two of you (and subsequently left you two alone in the apartment) to talk, you'd inevitably end up confessing your feelings and finally getting together. He had seen it coming since middle school, he had said. It only took about six years for his matchmaking to come into fruition, but it led to some pretty interesting slowburn – his words, not yours.
In these past three months, however, some awkward moments had arisen.
Being your brother, Jeonghan always found it uncomfortable whenever he happened to be around when you and Seungcheol would do couple activities. Seeing you hang out was fine, obviously, but a few weird instances had already left him traumatized.
So far, he had walked in on you making out a total of five times, feeling each other up over your clothes two times, Seungcheol making eyes at you seven times, had come across your discarded underwear three times, and had even walked in on you having sex once. At some point a line had to be drawn, and apparently he had chosen that to he now.
"Dude, you're the one who wanted us to get together," you argued.
"I wanted the mutual pining to stop, not to almost walk in on my sister getting railed every other day. Leave!," he said, though he simply sat down on the couch, forcibly creating a wedge between you and Cheol.
"Let's just go to your room, babe," Seungcheol got up, taking your hand while giving Jeonghan a dirty look, "Nuance," he grumbled.
"You're the nuance," responded Jeonghan, though already immersed with the popcorn and TV he had stolen from you.
Seungcheol led you to your room, closing the door behind you and instantly turning to you.
"Hi, baby," he whispered, holding you close to him.
"Hi," you giggled at him.
He leaned down to kiss you, his hands on the small of your back and pressing you up against him. His lips were basically on yours before Jeonghan's sudden voice made the two of you jump back in surprise.
"Don't have sex! I swear to God, if I hear the two of you having sex one more time, I'm evicting you! Just sleep like normal people!," he had yelled from the living room.
He had a bit of a point. The walls were relatively thin here, and you weren't exactly quiet when you had sex.
Seungcheol groaned and buried his face in your neck, "Baby, will you still love me if I kill your brother?"
"I'll love you even more," you pouted.
He snickered, removing his head from your neck and giving you a singular peck on your lips, "C'mon, let's go to sleep."
~
The two of you had initially thought that Jeonghan's complaint about you having sex had been a fluke. You believed that maybe he was stressed that day and that he hadn't meant what he said when he stated that he did not want the two of you to sleep together anymore. However, his words proved to be more literal throughout the following week.
Any time the two of you were so much as together, Jeonghan would groan and complain, saying that if he caught the two of you doing anything less than PG, he would cause 'any trouble possible to stop it' (his own words). It was beginning to frustrate you, but your frustration could not compare to that of Seungcheol's.
"I'm going to kill him. I'm really doing it this time," he said decidedly, hearing Jeonghan's incessant attempts to interrupt whatever was going on behind your closed door.
"Babe-"
"I just want to have sex with you! It's been over a week since I've had you, I'm going insane", he pulled at his scalp.
"Yeah, I know, but he just-"
"Babe, I don't think you understand. I'm hard every day. Even seeing you gets me going by now. I can't do this anymore! Any time I try to touch you, he's there somehow!"
The manic look in his eyes spoke for itself. And it was true. Seungcheol's constant blue balling this past week and a half had him growing aroused at the mere sight of you in shorts. It was flattering, but it was beginning to affect you too. Knowing how badly he wanted you made you weak at the knees, causing the two of you to grow incredibly frustrated at your brother's antics.
You realized now that maybe you shouldn't have been so liberal in sleeping together while living with your brother. You should have known he would snap sooner or later, no matter how much he had rooted for the two of you to get together.
You wondered how this would end up playing out, because the two of you were already beyond breaking.
...
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cheapshrimpysheep · 4 months ago
Text
Sharing a Bed
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SUMMARY: When they built the bungalow, they couldn't make an individual bedroom for each person. Or a bed for each person. So, they'll have to choose the person with whom they will share the room... and the bed. And the boy you're secretly dating ends up paired up with you in one of those beds.
CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts; Ace Trappola; Jack Howl; Azul Ashengrotto; Floyd Leech; Lilia Vanrouge
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Beginning of Relationship
WARNING: Spoilers from Stitch's Tropical Turbulence (JP: Lost in the Book with Stitch ~Midsummer Sea and Spaceship~)
WORD COUNT: An average of 920 words per character.
COMMENTS: Okay, after reading it a second time, what I think Jack meant was: Since they couldn't make individual rooms for everyone, they made one living room big enough for everyone instead. But that's not what I understood the first time, and the way I understood it was more interesting for me to write something about :3
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CONTEXT: You two are at the beginning of your relationship and no one knows. Let's also say that Floyd didn't use the back door for the bonfire.
They couldn't make individual rooms in the Bungalow or single beds. They only got materials to make 3 beds big enough for 2 people to sleep in each. And 3 bedrooms where they placed each of the beds. Which meant that 6 people could sleep in pairs on the beds, Grim and Stitch were small enough to sleep well on the couch/armchairs and 1 person had to sleep in the living room with them, maybe on the couch too. And someone comments about you and Grim being a package deal.
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Riddle was the first to say that you shouldn't sleep on the couch just because you usually sleep in the same room as Grim.
You should sleep in a bed and, like the gentleman he is, he offered to sleep on the couch instead, more concerned with your well-being than with the possible jealousy he could feel depending on who you slept next to.
“Objection!” Lilia said playfully. Riddle looked at him in surprise. “I should be the one sleeping on the couch. After all, I can easily sleep in a cave and I'm small enough to fit comfortably on the couch. You guys should have the beds. A good night's sleep is important for growth.” He smiled. Riddle may or may not realize it, but Lilia did this mostly for the two of you.
“So how do we divide ourselves between the beds?” Jack asked.
“Firstly, you shouldn't sleep with people you don't feel comfortable with.” Riddle said. He, Jack, and Ace looked mostly at Floyd, but also at Azul.
“Those looks directed at us after such advice are quite hurtful.” Azul says with his performative sadness. “But, Riddle, can I ask why you said you instead of us?” he asks with a smirk.
Riddle couldn't hide his caught reaction. And he's not the type to make excuses, so he was sincere: “In fact, that slipped from me.” he said, slightly blushing “The truth is, I hoped I could be paired with [Y/N].” he looks at you “If you're comfortable with that too, of course.”
You say that you are, and with two shy smiles directed at each other, your pair is decided. The other pairs were Ace with Jack and Azul with Floyd. Both Jack and Ace didn't want to be with either of the other two and Ace used the excuse that Azul and Floyd had known each other for a long time to justify the pairings.
❤️ Bungalow - Yours and Riddle's Bedroom ❤️
He let you in first and closed the door behind him. When you look at him, you realize that he is thinking about something, something that troubles or bothers him. You ask if everything is okay.
“I... I know I was the one who invited you to share the room with me... but...” You ask sadly if he wanted to exchange with someone else. “No, no, no! It’s not that. I will always choose you. I even did it without thinking... and maybe that was the problem... I...” he blushed a little. “I didn't want you... to sleep with anyone else. Although at first I offered to sleep on the sofa, which would consequently mean that you would have to share the bed with someone other than me. *Sigh* Why can't I think straight?” he whispers to himself. “Sorry, I'm straying from the initial question. What bothers me is... I'm sure I'm breaking a rule.”
You ask what rule. You wonder if it could be any Heartslabyul rule? Or maybe from the Queendom of Roses? Or could it be...?
“I think it would fit into a rule of etiquette. My mother is completely against this. We are no longer mere acquaintances, or just friends. These types of things cannot happen before...”
“Marriage?” You ask. He blushes again.
“I know it's too early and we're too young to talk about this but... yes...” You say that if he feels more comfortable swapping with someone else... “NO! That's out of the question! I'm not going to force you to sleep on a sofa and WHOEVER SLEEPS WITH YOU I WILL HAVE THEIR-!” He stutter, and clear his throat. “I mean... this is the best option.” He's embarrassed for shouting in front of you. “My apologies for that.”
You reassure him that it is okay. He wasn't yelling AT you and you know he's still learning to control his anger. You say that all rules have exceptions, and in cases like these, on a desert island where it is already lucky that there are beds, perhaps they are exceptions to certain rules. Sometimes the rules of survival override the rules of etiquette. Maybe if he thinks he's not breaking a rule, but following its exception.
He thinks for a moment “You are right. If we think about it this way, it is also against the rules of etiquette to eat with your hands, but it is foolish to try to impose it when there are no conditions for it. Yes, you are right, we must prioritize our well-being and health.” There's a cute and awkward pause “Um, do you have a preference for the side?”
If you have a preference, he will sleep on the other side, if not and one side is closer to the door, he will sleep on that side. If you ask why this choice, he will say that the most protective person in the relationship is often on the side closest to the door in order to be able to protect their significant other against intruders.
As soon as you lie down and get ready for bed, you might be surprised by how naturally Riddle kisses you on the cheek. “Good night, my rose.” If you look at him, you will see a sweet smile and caring eyes looking back at you.
If you want to return the kiss you can do it on his cheek as well. Lips are still reserved for special occasions only. And he'll press his forehead to yours, your noses almost touching for a moment before you finally turn over to sleep. And if you open your eyes while he's doing it, you'll see the loving glow in his eyes.
You begin to sleep separately and perhaps even in different directions, but sleep and dreams are revealing. Eventually you will begin to unconsciously move closer to each other, until he has his arms around you and your head is resting close to his chest.
If you wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of one of Gantu's robots outside, Riddle won't even process the fact that you're suddenly so close. He goes straight from sleepy mode to protective mode on instinct. His gaze will be completely focused on the closed window and you will feel his arms moving you closer to him. If you make a sound, he'll put a finger to your mouth and whisper a calm shh.
Only after the robot leaves will he realize how he is hugging you. His face will immediately turn red from the blushing and he will move slightly away from you apologizing.
If you show yourself comfortable being so close to him and even more protected, he will end up giving in and letting you continue sleeping together as you were. You will definitely hear his heart beating fast until he finally manages to relax and fall asleep again.
After that, you will start to get used to sleeping like this. He will always wake up before you and wake you up with a kiss on the forehead. “Good morning~ Did you sleep well?”
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“Hey, [Y/N] shouldn't stay on the couch just because Grim is going to be in the living room.” Ace says. “At least it doesn't seem fair to me.” he looks at Riddle hoping he would share the same opinion.
“Surprisingly I have to agree with Ace.” Riddle says.
“See? Wait... what do you mean surprisingly?”
“The person who will sleep on the sofa” Riddle continues, ignoring Ace's observation. “should be chosen taking into account who is least likely to have problems sleeping well on it compared to others. This also includes not having a stature too large to fit.”
Everyone looked at Lilia. Who looked behind him as a joke.
“Kehehe. Of course, I have no problem sleeping on the couch. It even looks quite cozy from my point of view. Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled, Stitch smiled back and Grim said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.
“So who will be the pairs for the beds?” Floyd asked. “Hey kingyo-chan~ do you want to stay with me?”
“I'd rather sleep on the floor.” Riddle answers. Floyd laughs because he already predicted that.
“Dibs on pairing with [Y/N]!” Ace hurried to say.
“Aw, koebi-chan was my next choice.” Floyd comments.
Seeing his options, Riddle asks if Jack would mind pairing with him. As Jack respects him a lot, he says he doesn't mind and his tail starts to wag, slightly honored that Riddle shows some trust in him. Azul and Floyd end up paired up with each other.
❤️ Bungalow - Yours and Ace's Bedroom ❤️
As soon as you two enter the room and Ace closes the door, he picks you up playfully. And he even tells you not to make any noise as he laughs softly. He takes a few steps and lays you down on the bed.
“So, do you have a favourite side or do I choose?” You or he chooses sides and you lie down. “Ahh~ Finally something that isn't the floor of a cave to sleep in~” he says next to you.
And then you remember something: It wasn't the first time Ace suggested you two sleep in the same bed. The first time was when the riddle locked a collar around he's neck for the first time and he had to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. And the second was when Azul got Ramshackle Dorm and you had to find another dorm to sleep in. Before going to Savanaclaw, Ace suggested you sleep with him when they commented that Heartslabyul didn't have extra beds. So you comment that he finally got the sleepover he wanted so much.
“Hmm? What do you mean?” He asks. You remind him about the first time he came to sleep in your dorm. “Well, in that case I just didn't want to sleep on the couch. But you made me sleep in it anyway.” he looks at you with a sulking face, and then a smirk. “You know, now that I think about it, maybe I should have let you sleep on the couch. So we were even.”
Then you ask why he didn't try to do that when you were left without your dorm. That was the second time he suggested sharing a bed. And you caught him by surprise for a second.
“Hmm... well... Do you think the Housewarden would let that happen? I can even imagine myself losing my mind over the audacity of being so rude to a visitor. Or Queen of Hearts knows what dorm rule that would break.”
If you remembered correctly, he suggested sharing a bed AFTER Jack offered to shelter you in Savanaclaw.
“And yet you chose Savanaclaw.” he sulks cutely again. “And slept in Leona's room.” he murmured.
You say something like: “Aw, is this jealousy~?” And he rolls over, facing away from you. You get closer to him, saying that he doesn't need to be jealous, and nothing happened, Leona also only did that because he was forced in a way and you needed a place to stay.
“That's why I slept with Deuce.” He tells you. You exclaim a surprised "WHAT?!" and he turns to grab you and make you lie down clinging to him.
“Got ya!” he laughs. “And keep your voice down, remember?” He whispers. “You really fall for it? Ha ha. You should know me better than this.”
He yawns, which makes you yawn too.
“I'm really tired. We should just sleep. You don't mind if we sleep like this, do you~?”
They complained about the heat outside , but inside the bungalow, at night, it's actually a little cool. So it's kinda comfortable to sleep almost hugging each other. So no, you don't mind. Quite the opposite. He kiss you good night, and you two fall asleep.
In the following nights, there are chances that you two make out a little there before going to sleep, if your not too tired. He will never wake up grumpy, because every time he hears the sound of the waves and sees you lying next to him, he realizes that this is the best vacation ever.
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Jack wasted no time in speaking his mind: “I don't think [Y/N] should sleep on the couch just because Grim is staying in the living room.”
“Fufufu... Why? Do you think [Y/N] should sleep with you instead?” Lilia asked with a smirk to tease him.
Jack blushed a lot! “Wha-! NO! That wasn't why-” He put his hand on the back of his head. “I mean, I wouldn't mind, but I was just thinking that it's not fair for them to sleep on the couch just because of Grim. We should take into consideration whether [Y/N] have trouble falling asleep here or not.”
“I agree with Jack” Riddle said. “In fact, we must take into account each person's needs in something as important as rest. I believe you would agree as well, Lilia.”
“Yes, you boys are right.” Lilia said with a smile. “In that case, I volunteer to stay on the couch. From what I saw in the cave, I'm the one who has the least problems sleeping.”
“Mendako-chan could sleep on a battlefield, hehehe.” Floyd comments. Lilia also laughs at this observation.
“So...” Jack turns to you, still slightly blushing. “Now that you don't have to sleep on the couch, would you like to pairing with me?” As soon as you say yes, or whisper something like "of course, silly" his tail starts wagging.
“Well, we already know who the first pair for the beds is.” Lilia comments when he sees Jack's tail moving wildly from side to side. He tries to make it stop and you see his ears lower in embarrassment.
Seeing his options, Riddle asks if Ace would mind pairing with him. And also analyzing his options, Ace says he doesn't mind. They are even from the same dorm, maybe it would even be better to pair up like that, you know? Being in the same dorm, people are more comfortable with each other, right? (They got it, Ace)
💛 Bungalow - Yours and Jack's Bedroom 💛
As soon as the two of you enter the room and Jack closes the door, he will ask if you have a preference for which side of the bed you sleep on. When you look at him, you see that he is still trying to contain the wagging of his tail. You remind him that he doesn't need to do that when it's just the two of you.
“Oh!, Ya, force of habit I guess.” And so he lets his tail wag freely. Fortunately there is no furniture or objects that it can hit.
If you have a preference for the side of the bed you want to sleep on, he will sleep on the other side, if not and one side is closer to the door, he will sleep on that side. If you ask why this choice, he will say that he heard that the most protective person in the relationship is often on the side closest to the door in order to be able to protect their significant other against intruders.
“I feel like the weather gets cooler now at night. That’s good.” Jack comments.
In fact, it's nice to rest with cool nights after spending active days in the heat of the beach, and you tell him something like this.
“Y-ya. That to...” He rubs the back of his neck, and you ask what he was thinking then. “Well, I was thinking... about this wolf thing...” he blushes a little “I think you've already noticed that, like wolves, wolf beastmen couples are also quite affectionate.” He can’t look at you right now because he can feel the way you’re looking at him. And so, looking at you will only make him blush even more. “And there's this thing...” he inhales to gain more courage to speak and sighs. “We like to cuddle and sleep together ok...” This is very difficult to admit for a Tsundere at the beginning of a relationship, especially for someone who is not a beast(wo)man.
You probably laugh at how cute he looks when he's so flustered. You ask if that's why he's happy that it getting colder at night. Because if it was too hot you wouldn't be able to sleep cuddled together. He confirms.
“From your laugh and smile, can I guess that you would like that too?” He smiles confidently, his tail wagging.
You open your arms showing that you do, and he wastes no time in hugging you and laying you down in bed with him. He also doesn't wait to start caressing your face with his nose and giving you soft kisses on your cheeks. He tries to control his tail so it doesn't hit anything and make noise.
The first time he kisses your lips will be to say goodnight, but if he's not tired enough yet, this won't be the only goodnight kiss before you fall asleep in each other's arms.
He will always be the first to wake up and wake you up. You will always wake up with his arms around you and a passionate kiss on your cheek. And with him always trying to convince you to get up and not be tempted to stay in bed late. He wants to spend another day with you, for as long as possible.
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“Oh, poor [Y/N]” Azul comments. “Being forced to sleep on the couch just because of their companion. That doesn't seem like a very fair deal to me.” He says with a smirk.
“Despite the tone of moral superiority, Azul is right.” Riddle says. “It's not like Grim needs someone to watch over him at night. Or so I hope.”
“Of course not! I'm not a baby!” Grim complains. “I can sleep in a separate room from [Y/N]. The question is: can my hench-human sleep away from me?”
“Ah, I believe [Y/N] will certainly be in good company.” Azul comments, and before anyone could question what he had just said, he continued. “The person who will sleep on the couch should be chosen taking into account who is least likely to have problems sleeping well on it compared to others. This also includes having a physical size that makes them feel comfortable on a couch.”
Everyone looked at Lilia. Who looked behind him as a joke.
“Kehehe. Of course, I have no problem sleeping on the couch. It even looks quite cozy from my point of view. Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled, Stitch smiled back and Grim said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.
“So who will be the pairs for the beds?” Floyd asked. “Hey kingyo-chan~ do you want to stay with me?”
“I'd rather sleep on the floor.” Riddle answers. Floyd laughs because he already predicted that.
“Well, in that case. Koebi-chan~?”
“Sorry Floyd, but I don't think so.” Azul answers, with a smile but a cunning look.
“Oh ya?” Floyd was also smiling with cunning eyes. “And why don't you let Koebi-chan answer for themself?”
“For sure. I was just trying to soften your rejection.” He gives Floyd one last smug smile before turning to you. “Tell me [Y/N], would you like to sleep next to Floyd or next to me?” You reply that you would like to sleep next to Azul.
“He he. I already knew it.” Floyd says with a genuinely amused expression. “I just wanted to see how Azul would react.” And before anyone could question those phrases, he turns to the other three and asks: “So what will the other pairs be?” With a smile knowing that he is creating a fun chaos.
Riddle, Ace and Jack look at each other. One of them will have to share a bed with Floyd.
“Ace!” Riddle says. “You should be the one paired with Floyd.”
“Wha-?! Why me?!”
“Because firstly, the bed wouldn't have much free space if either of you were paired with Jack. And secondly, you and Floyd are basketball teammates, you must get along well enough right?”
“You just don't want to be the one to pair with him and because you're my Housewarden you're ordering-” He stopped when he saw Riddle starting to get angry. “I mean, yes, of course, those are excellent arguments. You're absolutely right, Housewarden!”
Meanwhile, Floyd laughs with amusement.
💜 Bungalow - Yours and Azul's Bedroom 💜
Azul enters after you and closes the door. He sighs when he sees how simple the room is. “If we weren't in these circumstances, I would have found a luxury resort for us.”
You tell him that he has nothing to worry about, that despite everything, the others managed to make the room cozy and pleasant. And what matters most to you is being in it with him. He smiles, puts one hand on your waist and caresses your cheek with the other.
“Always seeing the bright side, my pearl.” He gives you a tender kiss on the lips. “Now, tell me, do you have a preference for the side of the bed where you would like to sleep?”
You lie down side by side.
“I am so glad we get to sleep under a proper roof tonight.”
“Azul...” You ask. “Would you really leave us on the island if none of us made a deal with you?”
“Of course not, darling.” He turns on himself to face you. “But I'm a businessman. And what kind would I be if I didn't take advantage of any business opportunity?”
You make a muffled sound, not liking his response that much. He comes closer to you. “I wouldn't do anything like I used to, I promise. Maybe I'd only have them working at Mostro Lounge for a week or so. And no anemones on their heads to force them to obey me, I swear.” He was smiling slyly saying this.
You look away from him, rolling your eyes. “I repented.” With a gentle finger on your chin he makes you look at him again, he looks into your eyes lovingly. “Seen the light, made a switch. I would never leave you on a desert island. Even if I had to turn you into a merfolk to do so.” He smiled. “I wonder how you would look like.”
“And the others?” You ask.
“Hum? I wasn't thinking about them, but I'm also curious to know what they would be like in mer-form, yes.” He answewrs. You laugh and say no,that that wasn't what you were asking. He sighs. “Fine, fine... I wouldn't leave any of them on a desert island.” He says, partly in admission, partly to make you happy.
But then his smile fades for a moment. He caresses your face again.
“I hope you're not like that with everyone. Not everyone deserves such benevolence. You and your tender disposition will only be taken advantage if you let them.” You could see the concern in his eyes.
You assure him that you know it, and that you're not like that with everyone. They were your friends, it was different and he knew it. He smiles fondly.
“I wonder what kind of deal we made to have someone like you in our lives. And mainly...” He brings his lips closer to yours. “...what I did to have you for myself.” and you kiss.
You will always wake up with his arms around you. You're between him and the window because he's going to use you to hide his face from the light while he's in the process of waking up. But as soon as he's more awake, he'll kiss you good morning and start the day with you.
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“Koebi-chan and I pair up to sleep in one of the beds. Now you guys fight to see who gets to stay on the couch.” Floyd decides with an amused smile, completely ignoring any comments about you usually sleeping in the same room as Grim.
“HOLD ON!” Riddle says. “You can't just decide something like that without the other person's consent!”
The truth is that since you were dating, Floyd assumes that you would like to take advantage of that opportunity to share a room with him. But since no one else knows about it yet, he plays along. He also likes that your relationship is still a secret to see the confusion on other people's faces in situations like these.
“Okay~ Hey Koebi-chan, do you want to share the room with me~?”
You say yes, clearly of your own free will, which reassures Riddle and the others. And in that case, they will have to decide the pairs for the beds and who sleeps on the couch.
Ace suggests choosing at random, like whoever draws the shortest straw stays on the couch, and Azul is the first to go against this suggestion. Riddle is the second.
“I volunteer to stay on the couch.” Lilia said with a smile. “From what I saw in the cave, I'm the one who has the least problems sleeping.”
“Mendako-chan could sleep on a battlefield, hehehe.” Floyd comments. Lilia also laughs at this observation.
“Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled at Stitch, who smiled back, and at Grim, who said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.
Of all three, Riddle was the least uncomfortable pairing with Azul. So they formed a pair and the other two freshmen formed another.
💜 Bungalow - Yours and Floyd's Bedroom 💜
You two enter the room, Floyd closes the door and goes directly to lie down on the bed. Taking up the whole bed.
“So, what do you think of our room? Pretty cool, han?” In fact, the room was decorated with very beautiful, sparkling seashells. They were all sorts of colors: orange, red, purple, green, pink, white. And they look like painted porcelain.
“So you also like dead shellfish?” He says. “Kingyo-chan and Uni-chan too. They were fawning over these shells when we found this spot. It was fun to see their faces when most of the shells they had collected started moving on their own. They had picked up hermit crabs without realizing it. I told them to leave the pretty spiral ones alone and pick out the flat, practical ones to use them as plates. And when we were working on the bungalow I went to where they had left the shells and used them to decorate the room. Just a warning, don't scream too loud if one of these corpses is still alive and pokes your leg at night~”
He laughs looking at your reaction. “Exciting, isn't it?” You complain, saying you want to sleep peacefully. “Fine, fine, I was just kidding. Do you think I don't know how to tell the difference between seashells?” You say that, precisely for this reason, he could put a hermit crab in your room on purpose. “Hahahaha. You know me too well, Koebi-chan. But nah, that crab could poke me at night and I don't want that either.”
You were still standing, looking at him with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish taking up the entire bed.
“Won't you go to lie down with me?” He asks with a smirk.
“Where?” you ask “You're taking up the whole bed.”
“Here!” He attacks you with a hug and forces you to lie down in his arms. He squeezes you affectionately, and without hurting you, of course. He yawns. “And? Where is my reward for making such a pretty room for us~?” He asks with inviting lips very close to yours.
You kiss him and feel him reciprocating lazily, but sweetly.
“And for being one of the people who built the bungalow?” You kiss him again. “And for making such a good dinner?” and again. “And the bonfire was also a good idea, wasn't it?” and again “And didn't ya like my music?” and he will continue to remind you of things for you to pay him back with kisses until he simply gets tired and you two just make out until you fall asleep.
When he wakes up in a good mood and excited about the day, he can pick you up and force you to get up too. If he wakes up feeling sleepy and wants to stay in bed longer, he won't take his arms away from you, forcing you to continue being his bodypillow until he's in the mood to get up.
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And that someone who commented about you and Grim being a package deal was none other than Lilia himself. And yes, you were shocked. Was he going to miss an opportunity like this?
And unfortunately for you, everyone agreed. You even fit well on the couch. And during that whole time Lilia had his usual smile as if nothing had happened.
“So who will be the pairs for the beds then?” Floyd asked.
“Why don't the two of us pair up, Floyd?” Lilia suggested “I'm sure it will be fun.”
“Okay~”
Everyone else looks relieved, even Azul. And while the remaining four decided on their pairings, you looked at Lilia for a moment. And, knowing that no one else was looking at you two, his smile became sly, he winked at you and put on his innocent smile back again.
The pairs ended up being Azul and Riddle, and Ace and Jack, since neither of these two wanted to be paired with Azul and, despite everything, Riddle didn't mind.
That night, you lie down on the couch. Both Grim and Stitch curl up to sleep. You curl up to get comfortable and close your eyes to fall asleep.
You had already fallen asleep when you felt something touch your nose and a familiar voice whispering "Boop". You open your eyes and see Lilia lying next to you, smiling. Wait... lying on your side? But the couch doesn't have that much space. Your vision adapts and you see that you are no longer on the couch, but on the bed in one of the rooms.
💚 Bungalow - Yours and Lilia's Bedroom 💚
“Fufufu. Surprised?” He could see that in your face.
You ask him how, what, when...? He laughs.
“I knew that none of them would want to sleep on the sofa, and that the chances of me being chosen to sleep on it, if we got to that point, were too high for I had an easier time sleeping wherever it was.” His look becomes sly, like the one he gave you while the others were deciding the pairings. “But if you were the one sleeping on the couch, I could find a way to get the person I was paired with to switch with you. Octavinelle students love deals and I would have an easier time getting a deal like this with Floyd than with Azul. After making sure he was in a good mood for it of course. Which is also very easy for me. I mean, who would be in a bad mood in the company of someone as adorable and fun as me?” He rests his chin on his hands and gives you his cutest smile to prove his point.
You ask him what deal they made and he smiles slyly again.
“Don't worry, my dear. It takes more than a intelligent teenager with mood swings to outsmart me. And let's say that Azul can be more difficult to convince.” There is a short pause. “I hope you can forgive me for waking you up. You looked so cute sleeping, but I really wanted to surprise you. Did you like it?”
You did! But you still tell him how you felt when you were deciding who slept where.
“You know the saying: All's fair in love and war. Of course I wasn't going to miss an opportunity like this, but I had to make sure we stayed together. And knowing my opponents and who my best allies would be, I knew this would be my best strategy.”
You still seem not completely convinced, or at least you pretend you're not.
“Aww... don't do this to poor old me~” He says dramatically “You can't imagine how hard it was for me to see your disappointed face when you were chosen to sleep on the sofa. My heart sank as much as seeing a companion injured in combat next to me. But we needed to be strong if we want to end up together!”
You laugh to see him act so melodramatically. He holds both of your hands, and looks deeply into your eyes, with a mix of a sweet smile and a smirk.
“And now that we're safe in each other's arms, maybe we can heal our wounded hearts.” And if you allow him, he will kiss your lips.
He will always wake you up with a kiss or by bopping your nose. And if you feel lazy he will force you to get up by being cutely annoying. Even if he has to hold you in his arms to do so. C'mon, the days are beautiful and he can enjoy the beach with you, he wants to enjoy every second before it ends.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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sansaorgana · 7 months ago
Text
— QUICK LEARNERS
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You're sent to Giedi Prime to marry your distant cousin and become the new Na-Baroness. However, your new husband seems to ignore you. You come up with an idea how to gain his attention and you ask one of the Generals from your homeworld to teach you how to wield a blade.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — While writing my fanfic "Forbidden Fruit" I was inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures creating the Reader's homeworld. This time I was inspired by my own Slavic culture but as usual – the physical appearance of the Reader is not described. 💘 I really like coming up with all these new planets! Also, I decided it makes sense for the world inspired by the Slavic culture to be related to The Harkonnens, therefore Feyd and Reader are cousins but they're distantly related (as most noble people are, I guess).
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood – the Reader is injured, slight incest (distant cousins), SMUT, oral, hints of breeding kink, Feyd is a bit ooc in my opinion but... so what? he's cute 🤪
WORD COUNT — 7,840
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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QUICK LEARNERS
Your father, The Tsar, worked very hard to make this union happen. Baron Harkonnen had wanted his heir and nephew to marry one of The Emperor’s daughters but your father’s relentless visits, letters and arguments finally worked.
Your family was cousins with The Harkonnen bloodline. You were more used to their culture and you shared similar values. Of course your house was not as important as The Harkonnens. In fact, your planet was under The Harkonnen rule and your father only governed it in their name although his family had been allowed to keep their titles.
Giedi Prime was an industrial planet without any nature which was the opposite of your homeworld. Morana was mostly dark green – a never ending forest full of valuable resources. Sadly, most of them were being transported to Giedi Prime for nearly nothing in return. Your father was determined for The Baron to make it up to your people for all the centuries of colonisation and turn their Grand Duchess into The Harkonnen Baroness.
Your home world was supplying Giedi Prime with important raw materials and fearsome warriors that were known all over the galaxy as ruthless beasts in combat. Growing up in such an environment, you would easily adapt to Giedi Prime even though it lacked the greenery completely. You would make a much better Baroness than any spoiled daughter of The Emperor. Those were your father’s arguments at least.
So, you were sent to Giedi Prime with dozens of heavy wooden chests filled with your most precious belongings. Everything you loved, everything that was defining you – it had to fit in these boxes. You couldn’t take the forests with you nor the rivers, the songs of your people, the smile of your mother, the warmth of the fireplace. All you could take were the dresses and jewels, a few books. And a burden of the realisation how big responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. To make your parents proud and to become a good na-baroness… and then Baroness. To give heirs.
You knew Feyd-Rautha from all the official ceremonies. You had never talked to him before, he would only greet you with a head nod and a word cousin in his low, raspy voice that was sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. A few times before you had watched him fight in the arena. He was an incredible warrior but his combats were for show which was disappointing for a woman from Morana – a planet known for its art of warfare.
You weren’t scared of him and you weren’t taken aback by his Harkonnen nature nor looks. You were used to The Harkonnens visiting your planet or you visiting theirs with your parents for official events and celebrations. However, you were not pleased with this union either. He didn’t seem to be a pleasant man and you didn’t like the responsibility that came with this marriage.
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Your wedding was grand. Every governor and leader of the planet under The Harkonnen rule was invited. Your dress was white, decorated with traditional red embroidery of your people. On your head there was a flower crown made out of flowers that grew on Morana. But seeing all the people around you, you quickly realised it probably was the last time you’d wear something white. No one around was wearing any colour except for black. The only white clothes you could see were the ones of the servants.
The wedding party was a display of power and violence but it wouldn’t make a girl from your planet flinch. You focused on the cake and tried to remember all the advice your mother had given to you regarding your upcoming wedding night.
She had been straightforward with you. A strong Tsarina like her would never hesitate or shy away. She had told you it would be best if you took your husband from behind so you wouldn’t have to look into his face. And she had made it clear that the marriage should be consummated. No matter how much it would hurt.
You observed your new husband with the corner of your eye but he looked the same as his wedding kiss had felt – bored and unimpressed. Cold.
Around midnight he stood up to leave the table without making any announcements. Panicked, you glanced at your new servant girls and they nodded at you. So, you stood up as well and gathered the fabric of your dress to lift it gently and follow him down the corridor.
He walked fast, you could barely catch up. His silence was heavy between you two. After all, you were his wife now – you were supposed to share a life together – but he chose to treat you like air instead.
When the doors leading to his chambers opened, you entered them right after your new husband. That was when he turned around as if he was surprised. He looked you up and down with contempt and you realised that he had not been pleased with this union.
Perhaps because you were not The Emperor’s daughter. Perhaps he wasn’t finding you attractive enough.
“Cousin,” he drawled as usual.
“Can you not call me that anymore?” You sighed.
“Wife,” you swore there was a shadow of a smirk on his face. But he didn’t say anything else and you felt helpless. You didn’t know how to talk to him.
You tried to remember your mother’s words. You weren’t there to have conversations with him.
“Husband,” you nodded your head at him and he watched with tilted head as you approached his huge black bed and bent over.
“What are you doing?” He snorted at you.
You couldn’t understand. You furrowed your brows and turned your head around. His sneering facial expression embarrassed you but you stayed in your position.
“Would you rather take me the other way around? I didn’t expect you to be a romantic,” you commented.
“I do not intend to take you at all,” Feyd shook his head. “I’m going to sleep. You do whatever,” he shrugged his arms and began to undress.
Clumsily, you straightened yourself and smoothed out the wrinkles of your dress. Once he was in his underwear, without a word he got under the cover and ignored you completely.
You watched in shock as he began to drift off to the land of dreams. You had no idea what to do. Not only you had humiliated yourself but also you had failed to consummate the marriage.
You crouched down and picked up all the pieces of clothing he had scattered all over the floor. Like a dutiful wife already, you folded them neatly and put them away on the chair by his desk. Then you removed the flower crown and your dress, thanking all the gods above that it was not a complicated piece because you had no idea how you’d manage to do that without your servants’ help. You tried to be as quiet as possible while doing that, not wanting to wake Feyd up and cause his anger.
Once you were in your linen underdress, you decided to just join him in the huge bed and go to sleep as well. You were laying as far away from him as possible as you didn’t want to bother him. It was no easy task because he decided to sleep right in the middle of it like he had forgotten already that he was married now and had to share.
You didn’t understand the situation you had found yourself in. When the small orb of light by your bedside turned off, you stared at the pitch black room as all your limbs tensed. You could hear Feyd’s soft snores and the distant sounds of your wedding party, the firework splashes of white ink in the night sky. Yet, you – the bride and the new na-baroness – just laid on the edge of the bed, feeling lonely and humiliated.
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The weeks passed and you remained Feyd’s wife by name only. You shared your chambers with him but he was always awake before you and in the evening you were often asleep by the time he would join you in bed. There were days when you weren’t seeing each other at all. He was busy with training for his fights but also with fucking his concubines. You had found out about all of them from your servant girls.
The most important ones were three scary cannibalistic harpies. The servants were terrified of them because they could end up as their meal any time. There were also other women in your husband’s life but they were regular pleasure slaves and they did not matter as much. With his harpies he seemed to share some sort of bond.
Of course. Now it made sense. How could you even compare to such creatures? However, you did not even want to. You just hoped Feyd would finally be reminded – by his uncle or the medic – that he had to fulfil his duties and produce an heir.
You felt lonely and rejected. Your duties were not many and you quickly realised that most of them were nothing but a show off – just like your husband’s fights in the arena. It was probably because you were a woman and a new addition to the family. The Baron would never actually put you in charge of anything important.
Your only companions were your servant girls. You grew attached to them but they were no friends. Not because you thought of them as less but because of their timid personality. They were terrified of The Harkonnens and they were often trembling whenever they spotted your annoyance. Such a dynamic could not be a base of any real valuable friendship although your heart was breaking for them.
They had told you that the people of Giedi Prime liked you. You were not like your husband nor his family and you looked different because of the pigment of your skin and your hair. Sometimes, to your new black Harkonnen attire you would add a jewellery or a flower crown from your homeworld. The citizens of Giedi Prime adored the additional splash of colour. You expected Feyd-Rautha to scold you for that but he did not. He seemed not to care at all about you and what you were doing.
You had tried everything to get his attention and to seduce him. You had started to wear more revealing nightgowns to bed but he would ignore you. You had walked in on him taking a bath on purpose – pretending it was an accident. He hadn’t even flinched.
You had been asking him things about Giedi Prime and The Harkonnen history – making a fool of yourself by asking him things you had known already. He would always answer dryly and coldly; often without even sparing you a glance. Then he would go on ignoring you.
You had tried to move closer to him in bed at night. Pretending to be asleep, you had adjusted your body slowly until your arms touched. He had woken up abruptly and moved aside, stealing the blanket.
You nearly gave up but there was one more idea you were thinking of. You wanted to share a hobby with your husband. It could not be sex because he refused to touch you, which made you feel so unattractive that you didn’t even think of flirting with other men to cause his jealousy. His coldness made you feel ugly.
No, his other hobby was the blade. And you sometimes observed his training and they always made you miss your home. On Morana the warriors would train day and night just like him. You had often observed them with your father as he was telling you grand stories. And perhaps you were a lady, but you were your people’s Grand Duchess and you could handle the blade. Or so you had thought.
You found one of the generals of The Harkonnen army who was from your homeworld. He looked different than the rest of them because of his longer, braided hair and tattoos on his face that were your people’s spiritual symbols. However, like most of the important military men from your homeworld, he had been sent to Giedi Prime as a young boy to be trained under The Harkonnens. Such boys were some sort of a tribute in the same way your natural resources were. All those years spent under the black sun had made his natural skin colour a few tones paler. But amongst The Harkonnens he still looked the healthiest.
“General Bohumil,” you approached him one day after watching him train with other soldiers. He was putting his blades away as he raised an eyebrow at you, surprised to see you wandering around this part of the fortress.
“Slava, Grand Duchess (Y/L/N), My Lady Na-Baroness Harkonnen,” he bowed down. You smiled at the way he addressed you as it brought back memories of your homeworld where you were addressed as The Grand Duchess and with the word slava meaning glory as a sign of respect. “What brings you here, My Lady?” He asked.
“I was wondering if you’d find some time for me,” you began, a little nervously as he furrowed his brows. “To train me.”
“Train you, na-baroness?” General Bohumil hesitated. He was looking for the right words not to insult you in any way. “What does your husband think of such an idea, my Lady?”
“I don’t think he cares about what I do at all,” you admitted honestly with a shrug of your arms.
He would never say that but you could see the look in his eyes. You were a spoiled and bored noble lady in his eyes and he’d only waste his precious time on you. However, he was too scared to say no. Your question was not a proposition, it was an order. That was the way of The Harkonnens and that was the way your father ruled on Morana, too.
“Alright, my Lady. I can show you the basics,” he nodded. “We can start tomorrow. But I warn you, you can bruise or hurt yourself,” he added.
“I am aware. Those are natural consequences of a combat, General,” you smiled at him. “I will find you tomorrow,” you nodded and went back to your quarters, very pleased with yourself.
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The first week of your trainings – and you had insisted on them to take place every day – General Bohumil was only making you stretch and prepare your muscles for the future extortion. No whining about it could cause him to change his mind. But after the first week you were finally given a blade to hold. It was quite short and light but very swift to move. The handle was wooden with your people’s spiritual symbols engraved on it. It was a traditional blade of the warriors from Morana and it made you feel so proud to be your father’s daughter to wield it. It made you feel as if you were home again.
You were also given a shield-like device that would protect you from hurting yourself or from the General hurting you in an accident. You noticed that he wore one, too, probably expecting you to clumsily wave the blade around and possibly cause some harm with it.
“Repeat the sentences after me, my Lady,” General Bohumil began to show you the most basic moves. You nearly rolled your eyes at how easy they seemed to be but you wanted to be an obedient student and to prove to him that you were not just a bored noble lady. You really wanted to learn.
He corrected your posture and the position of your feet as he lifted your elbow and then he began to show you the same sequence again.
You had many traits that were considered to be positive – it could be seen now, in the way you obediently performed your duties, how you desperately tried to make your marriage work and keep both of the families proud. You cared about your family’s honour, you were aware of the responsibility placed upon you. You would never sabotage your union; you were loyal and proud.
But you also possessed some traits that were considered to be negative – impatience was one of them. You didn’t want to keep repeating the same basic sequence a million times all over again, feeling like a child with a toy sword. You wanted to feel the adrenaline already like your husband when you watched him in combat or the warriors on your planet. Not listening to General Bohumil’s warnings, you started to spice up the sequence with the moves you had only seen in the gladiator arena before.
“My Lady, please, that is too advanced. We will get to it in the right time,” he sighed, trying his best to contain his anger. As a military man he was all about discipline and if you were a common soldier, he would lash out at you, you were sure of that. But you were his Grand Duchess and his Na-Baroness and he couldn’t even scold you. He could only calmly try to explain.
But you wouldn’t impress Feyd with the basic combat moves. You were sure that if he caught you now, he would laugh with contempt. No, you had to be better than that. And you hated to wait.
“This stupid shield,” you turned the device off as General’s eyes widened, “it’s distorting my view,” you whined.
“My Lady, please, turn it back on,” he pleaded. “Your eyes will get used to it after a few weeks of training, I can assure you of that.”
“A few weeks?!” You sneered. “When you talk to me using such long amounts of time, I get discouraged already. You think I’m not good enough to master this art faster than that?”
“It’s not about your personal skills, na-baroness, I assure you. Every man needs time to get better,” he swallowed thickly as he watched you play with the knife in your hand. “Please, turn the shield back on.”
Like a spoiled child, encouraged by the fact that your little hand tricks with the knife came easy to you, you took a step ahead and attacked him. In one swift movement he defended himself as he crossed his knife with yours but you could feel he was not using his full force.
You tried one of the tricks you had seen while observing the fights and you tried to quickly take a step back and attack him once again but straight into his ribcage this time. However, you were not experienced enough to try such a move and the knife clumsily slid through your hand. You hissed out of pain as it sliced through the leather fabric of your pants and through the tender flesh of your thigh.
The General’s eyes widened as he turned his shield device off and approached you quickly. You were in so much pain, you were gritting your teeth but you refused to let out a scream or to sit down. You didn’t want him to see you like this although the tears were already pricking your eyes and you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your leg.
“Na-Baroness!” There was a worry in his voice but he used a scolding tone, not being able to hold himself back anymore.
“Don’t even mention it. I know,” you drawled through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault, I know.”
He nodded his head, relieved that you were not blaming your injury on him.
“You’re hurt, my Lady. Let me escort you to the medical wing,” he insisted.
“No, thank you. I will go there myself,” you told him. “I will be back when it’s healed,” you added and limped out of the door as quickly as your pain allowed you, too.
You wanted to be alone so you could finally start crying out of pain, although you made sure to do it quietly. You were thankful that the medical wing was close to the training section of the fortress for strategic reasons.
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Your servant girls had picked you up from the medical wing. They had been looking at you as if you were crazy but they hadn’t dared to say a word. Your thigh was now disinfected and bandaged and your servants helped you to change into a nightgown as they recommended you to go to bed earlier than usual and get rest. They left you alone in your chamber and assured that they would be nearby if you needed them.
But you weren’t sleepy. You felt ashamed and humiliated as you kept overthinking your stupid behaviour. You knew one thing only – you didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to find out about this accident. He would think of you as weak and foolish… and he wouldn’t be wrong.
You were laying on the bed and reading a book, making sure that your leg was covered by both your nightgown and the duvet. When Feyd entered the bedroom – earlier than usual – you started to suspect he had found out about your accident and wanted to see with his own eyes. You pretended not to pay any attention to him but you watched him from the corner of your eye as you struggled to focus on the book. He sat by his desk and sighed while reading some letters that had been placed there in the morning and you realised it was his time to perform his na-baron duties as he was supposed to deal with the paperwork. He hated this.
Knowing that he was already angry at the fact that he had to answer the letters, you were trying not to bother him at all and you controlled your own breath so it wouldn’t be too loud. On the other hand, you had to admit that Feyd-Rautha had never aimed his anger at you… so far. You had known about his nature before and although you were not scared of him, you had expected him to get violent at times. That had never happened, though. 
Sometimes you wished it had. Because at least he’d react anyway to your presence instead of treating you like air.
Deep in your thoughts, you lost your focus and dropped your book with a loud thump sound on the floor. You froze and glanced at your husband’s shoulders. He stiffened and you quickly leaned in to grab the book, forgetting completely about your new injury as the duvet and your nightgown pulled up and revealed your bandage.
Once you straightened your back with the book in your hand, you noticed the exposed thigh and quickly covered it, hoping that Feyd had not seen it. You looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him staring at you intensely.
“What is it?” He asked with squinted eyes.
He talked to you so rarely that you nearly startled at the harsh and unpleasant sound of his raspy voice. You wondered if you’d ever get used to it.
“This? A book, dear husband. Something about the politics,” you chuckled nervously as you waved your hand, playing a fool.
Feyd stood up and approached the bed as you watched with terror in your eyes. He aggressively tossed the duvet aside and your skin got covered with goosebumps. He lifted up the hem of your nightgown and you hated to admit how electrifying his fingertips felt on your thigh. He had never touched you like that before.
“Who hurt you?” He asked after seeing the bandage again. His cold eyes stared into yours with a burning gaze.
“What do you care?” You asked and shrugged your arms. “It’s nothing,” you assured. “An accident.”
“I care,” he assured you but without any delicacy. “As your husband I am responsible for taking care of you and your honour,” he pointed out. “And as my wife you are my property. Whoever raises their hand on you, raises their hand on me and the Baronship,” he added.
“I did it to myself,” you bit on your lower lip and he tilted his head, visibly in disbelief. “If you paid more attention to me, you’d find out more things about me and you’d know by now that I tend to be clumsy sometimes,” you hissed at him and tried to cover your thigh again but he kept his hand there.
“I do pay attention to you,” he stated. “I observe you. I know when you’re lying,” he clenched his jaw. “Why are you defending the person who hurt you?”
“I’m not lying,” you protested.
“But you’re hiding something from me,” Feyd was relentless.
“Then we are only fair,” you put the book down as you looked at him angrily. “Your whole life is a secret kept away from me. Can’t I have mine?”
“Women on Giedi Prime do not have the same freedom as women on your planet do,” your husband reminded you. “A wife belongs to her husband in a way he will never belong to her.”
“What a relief then that I am not your wife,” you raised an eyebrow and he pursed his lips as he gave you a questioning look. “Because you have not consummated the union and refused so far to perform your duty and secure our bloodline.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Feyd snorted and looked away. “Stupid woman.”
“I do realise I am a disappointment to you. I am not one of the Imperial Princesses and I am not as interesting as your concubines. Not important enough, not attractive enough,” you decided to finally take your chance and tell him everything you had been feeling lately since it was the first opportunity to have some sort of conversation with your husband. He still refused to lay his eyes on you again. “I feel lonely, abandoned and rejected. Homesick. I want to be a good wife. I want to be a good na-baroness. But you’re not even giving me a chance. Out of boredom, I asked one of the generals to teach me how to fight and I hurt myself during training. Yes, it was pathetic of me. Go on, laugh. Make fun of me,” you encouraged him ironically. “At least it will be the very first reaction from you given to me in a long time.”
“Stop it! Stop,” Feyd-Rautha barked at you as he stood up and turned his back on you. He clutched his hands on the chair by his desk.
“Does the sound of my voice repulse you, too?” You asked, angrily. Now, when you finally let all these things out, you didn’t want to stop.
“You don’t understand!” He exclaimed and turned around to look at you with so much intensity that you curled up on the bed, feeling small and vulnerable. After all, he was a strong warrior and you were only a wounded prey. Like one of the rabbits in the forests on Morana, hunted by the hound dogs.
“Then explain it to me,” you whispered. “You owe me that at least.”
“I hurt everything I touch,” Feyd’s confession was sudden and it shocked you both. After a long while of silence between you two, he continued. “Just like him. It’s what this whole family is like.”
“I thought you liked to hurt,” you pointed out.
“Not you,” he answered nearly inaudibly. It was difficult for him to confess those things. You blinked a few times in disbelief.
“Why not me?” You asked, carefully.
“You’re supposed to be my wife. But I… I don’t know how to be a husband,” he looked at you again. You could swear that his sickly pale cheeks flushed slightly. “I was never… taught,” he explained.
“I didn’t expect you to be,” you admitted. “I knew life with you would be difficult. I knew you enough to know that. But nothing could prepare me for being… ignored. Completely,” you made your own confession as your heart pounded in your chest. You moved closer to him and reached your hands out, taking his gently and he didn’t even flinch. He just allowed it to happen, so you squeezed his cold fingers. “I am sorry I am not the wife you wanted.”
“It is not about that,” Feyd looked into your eyes. “And I do not ignore you. I let you be here. Sleep in my bed.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that was already a sign of affection,” you rolled your eyes.
“Protection,” he fixed you. “I don’t trust anyone here. They all work for my uncle,” he lowered his voice. “And as my wife, you are under my protection. If you want to learn how to fight,” he sighed and let go of your hands to sit on the edge of the bed again and reveal your bandaged thigh, “although I do not approve of that, from now on, it will be me training you. Do you understand? I don’t want any other man to teach you. I would never let this happen,” his fingertips brushed on your bandage and you felt a shiver go down your spine.
“I understand,” you nodded, trying not to smile too widely. Not exactly how you had imagined it but your plan to get your husband’s attention seemed to be working.
Feyd looked at your face again as his hand caressed your hair and cheek. You got startled at that at first but then you relaxed under his touch.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how to act around… a wife,” he admitted. “All I know is that she should not be treated like a common concubine.”
“So that is why you prefer to be around them. Because at least you know what to do,” you pointed out and he nodded. “You could have told me that.”
He laughed at your words, grinning with that black smile of his. It made you chuckle, too, as you realised how stupid your words were.
“That’s right. The Harkonnens don’t talk about their feelings,” you guessed.
“Our what?” Feyd squinted his eyes at you as his face became serious again. “I don’t know anything about the arrangement between your father and my uncle. But the way you acted on our first night together, it made me realise you are not here by your own will. It brings me pleasure when my concubines fear me but I do not wish for my wife to be scared.”
“I’m not scared of you, Feyd-Rautha,” you assured him. “I have never been.”
He looked a little surprised by your confession.
“You admired me then,” he seemed to be proud of himself.
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” you cooled down his enthusiasm. “You annoyed me,” you explained and he gave you a scolding look. However, he was more disappointed than angry. “You’re a spoiled Harkonnen brat.”
“Look who’s talking. Like you’re not a spoiled little noble lady who decided she wants to learn how to wield a knife out of boredom,” he pointed out.
“I know, I do not deny. Perhaps we are not a bad match at all,” you giggled and his eyes sparkled again. “I’m not used to warriors cheating in the arena, you know.”
“He says it is not the time yet to show my real abilities,” Feyd explained himself quickly, a little embarrassed that you pointed out his cheating. Honour was important to him and it was his weak spot.
“In the bedroom as well?” You raised an eyebrow, surprising your own self with your boldness. “Perhaps you have not been taught about being a husband but you surely know what your main duty is.”
“You’re eager,” he smirked.
“I am not a concubine but I am a woman like they are. I have my own needs and desires. You do not make it easy, ignoring me after coming to bed late at night, smelling like fresh sweat, blood and leather,” you pointed out.
“I fuck like I fight,” he warned you as his pupils darkened. His face was now so close to yours that you felt his hot breath on your mouth and his eyelashes tickled your cheeks.
“Is that a promise?” You whispered.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he snorted at you and you felt your cheeks heating up.
“You’re right. You have to show me,” you teased.
“No,” he moved back suddenly and you felt a sharp pain in your heart. He was so close… you nearly had him. “I don’t trust myself around you,” he admitted. “You will show me,” he told you as you raised your eyebrow.
“Me?” You swallowed thickly as his words.
“I’m yours,” he said. “Do whatever you wish with me. If a child is what you so badly want, to make your parents happy, to make my uncle happy,” he explained with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “then go on, explore, have fun. At your own pace.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realised that he was inviting you to initiate an intimacy between you two. You panicked as you had never expected that he’d want you to take a lead in the bedroom.
“I do not want to have a child to make anyone happy,” you fixed him. “Anyone but me. I want to secure our position on Giedi Prime,” you explained.
“So dutiful,” Feyd smirked.
“We share some values, dear husband,” you nodded and moved closer to him with a soft hiss as your injury reminded you of its presence.
“Easy, wife,” he watched you and you smirked as you put your arms around his neck.
“Are you sure you’re not doing it because you’re avoiding the paperwork?” You asked and pointed at the desk with your chin. Feyd sighed and you giggled. “I knew it,” you bit on your lower lip and sat astride him.
The first thing you did was to take off his shirt. You had observed his body many times before and the sight of his hard muscles had been the most delightful one. You tossed the shirt aside and gasped softly at your husband’s smooth pale skin. You allowed your fingertips to explore every crease, every bump, every vein and every tendon. Carefully, you leaned in and breathed in his scent as your lips softly brushed his shoulder.
His body was a work of art. Daily workouts and trainings were working miracles. He was strong and flexible. The sight alone was enough to make you feel hot. You began to feel the wetness between your legs as you allowed your fingertips to explore the upper part of his body. You tangled your legs behind his waist and moved your hands to his back, feeling the bumpy skin full of thin scars scattered all over. You had noticed them before but only now you gained the courage to ask him about them.
“Was it him?” You asked and Feyd nodded, carefully watching your reaction. But you didn’t flinch or make a disgusted face. You were sad about it. The scars were old. He had to be a young and scared boy once, tortured by his uncle to turn him into the ruthless killing machine he was now.
You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his cheek.
“Turn around,” you asked and he looked unsure. “You said I could explore and play. I want you to turn around,” you repeated and he nodded, hesitantly, before moving away softly, making sure he wouldn’t hurt your injured thigh. Then he turned his back on you and looked behind his shoulder to see what you were about to do.
You put your hands around his waist and moved closer, still caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen, you leaned in and left a trail of soft kisses up and down his scarred back. From the short conversation you managed to have with your husband you quickly realised that what Feyd-Rautha had never known in his life was tenderness. You wanted to be the first and only person to give it to him. You were his wife and that was your job.
He flinched at the feeling of your soft lips upon his scars but then he relaxed. You lowered the hands resting on his muscular chest and put them on his hips as you shyly hesitated for a while before finally placing one of your palms on his crotch. Innocently peppering his back with delicate kisses, your hand started to massage his bulge through the fabric of his pants. He groaned softly and you froze.
“Don’t stop,” he scolded you.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” you took the hand away and moved back. “You told me I could do it at my own pace. I am not a concubine to order me around,” you reminded him and he turned around to face you again, surprised by your tone. “I am not a shy mouse, Feyd-Rautha. You seem to be aware that women on Morana have more rights. I was raised by a strong Tsarina.”
“Forgive me, I am still learning,” he answered with an amount of sincerity that left you speechless for a moment. As if he really tried to be a good husband.
“It’s quite alright,” you caressed his shoulder. “Lay down for me?” You encouraged and he nodded, quietly.
Feyd moved up on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and you crouched down, waiting for him to be on display for your needy hands. The fact that this terrifying warrior that nearly everyone feared seemed to be so obedient for you just because you were his wife was making you even more and more aroused.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmured as you caressed his chest again. “I mean it.”
“So are you,” he confessed as he looked up at you and you shyly lowered your gaze. “I mean it,” he repeated your words.
“I haven’t felt very beautiful lately,” you admitted.
“I didn’t know,” he confessed.
You didn’t want to talk about it now. You lowered yourself to his neck and sucked on the soft skin only to soothe it with a kiss right after. You went down with your kisses, making sure to leave it upon every inch of his torso before you finally found yourself facing his crotch. His pants looked very tight at the moment. Too tight.
Shyly but curiously, you unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his underwear, watching his hard cock twitching at the feeling of your hot breath. His size impressed you but also made you anxious. You helped Feyd to get rid of his clothes completely and tossed them on the floor before leaning in again.
You grabbed his length carefully as he hissed out of pleasure, trying not to think of all the concubines he had before you – concubines who knew how to please him way better than you did. You hesitated before placing a delicate kiss on the tip.
“Be patient with me, I am only learning,” you looked up, giving him puppy eyes. He was looking down at you with darkened pupils and haze in his gaze.
“Have fun down there,” he growled and threw his head back. You giggled and went back to the soft kisses and kitten licks as your hand pumped his length.
“I’m glad you didn’t take me on our wedding night,” you admitted. “This is so much more fun,” you squeezed his tip and he bucked his hip with a grunt as you watched the black precum leaking out.
You had been educated enough by your mother, servants, medics and all the explicit books you could find in the library. You smirked and licked him clean before lowering your head and taking him as far down your throat as you were able to. You kept yourself steady by holding his muscular thighs but when you felt his cock twitching a little, you let go quickly; your drool mixed with his thick black precum leaked down your chin. Feyd looked up with an annoyed expression on his face but he didn’t say anything this time.
“We can have more fun once I’m expecting. Now we can’t waste any of that, can we?” You tilted your head and pulled your nightgown up to your hips before moving up and lining his cock with your glistening pussy. You swallowed thickly at the sight of how hard and big he was.
“Take your time,” Feyd put his hands on your hips. “It’s a lot to take,” he bragged.
“Oh, so you think I can’t handle it?” You raised an eyebrow.
Just like when it came to wielding a blade, you didn’t like being told that you couldn’t handle something. You were an impatient lady.
“I am your wife,” you reminded him as you slowly lowered yourself. The feeling of his swollen tip brushing your clit made you shiver but you bravely kept a poker face on. “I was made to take your cock and carry your children,” you added. “No matter how big it is, I’m going to take it.”
Feyd winked at you and your heart skipped a beat at that. He could be adorable at times, you had to admit. It made you happy that you could finally experience this side of him. It was worth all the pain your injury had been causing you.
You lowered yourself some more, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he tightened the squeeze on your hips, surely bruising them, too. You hissed and shut your eyes as you threw your head back.
The pain mixed with pleasure, the overwhelming fulfilment with an endless desire to feel him even deeper, to fill you even further, to make you swell and heavy with his children. When you finally sat fully on his cock, you let out a moan of his name as your walls twitched and squeezed him.
“Easy, wife, take your time,” he reminded you. His hands were keeping you down, not letting you move for a while. He was giving you time to adjust to his size and you opened your eyes to look at him below you. You gasped at the admiration on his face. All those weeks of feeling unattractive suddenly vanished from your memory.
You were a daughter of your planet. Morana was known for its fertile soil like you would be known for bearing his heirs. You were his goddess at that moment but you didn’t feel the need to be cruel towards your subject.
“I want you closer,” you breathed out and he nodded, sitting up very carefully, making sure not to hurt you. Once his back rested on the pillow behind him, you clinged to his chest and joined your lips with his in a kiss as your hips began to move slowly.
Feyd’s hands moved your hips and helped you to find the right pace and rhythm. Soon enough you were bouncing on that big cock with ease that came with desire. Feeling that you didn’t require so much of his help anymore, one of your husband’s hands moved down and rested on your bandage. His touch was unusually gentle and you moaned into his mouth, not breaking the hungry kiss even for a second.
After all those weeks of being left abandoned and touch starved, you just wanted to devour him. Nothing mattered; certainly not your wound, not the sweat, not the exhaustion. Your only goal was to chase the high that was coming.
Feeling that your movements became chaotic, Feyd cupped your face and groaned into your mouth as his own hips picked up the pace, taking control over you. You trembled and let out muffled cries of pleasure as he rutted roughly inside of you through your orgasm. Not long after you felt his thick black cum spilling deep inside of you as both of your bodies relaxed.
You broke the kiss and tried to catch your breath. Your husband wiped all the tears off of your cheeks and laid your head on his shoulder gently. You hugged his chest and cuddled him like that in silence.
“Do you remember what you promised?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “That next time you want to train, you’re coming to me.”
“Yes,” you smiled to yourself. “But I am only learning,” you added, shyly. “I don’t want you to laugh at me.”
“If you’re a quick learner with the blade like you are in the bedroom, then you will soon laugh at me,” he assured you and caressed your back as you giggled into the crook of his neck.
“You’re a quick learner, too, Feyd-Rautha,” you looked up as he looked down, confused. “How to be a husband, I mean,” you explained.
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You watched the servant girls painting your husband’s beautiful body with the black war paint as you caressed your swollen bump through the fabric of your dress. They finished their job and took a few steps back with their heads kept low. One of them handed you the bowl of the black liquid and you approached him as he smiled.
You dipped your finger in the paint and drew one of the symbols of your people on his chest. He looked down, questioningly.
“And what does this one mean?” He asked.
“It ensures good favours of the gods and victory in battle,” you explained softly.
“You know that he hates it when you do that,” Feyd reminded you. Baron Harkonnen would prefer you to become a Harkonnen and give up your old ways completely instead of teaching Feyd more about your culture.
“I know,” you looked up. “That’s why I do that.”
In the beginning you had been indifferent to his uncle but the more you found out about him and the damage he had done to your husband, the more you hated him.
Feyd nodded at you and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.
“Na-Baron, five minutes,” one of the servants reminded him of the time left.
“I will bring you the hearts of my enemies,” he cupped your face as he looked deep into your eyes while making a promise.
“I have only one enemy,” you reminded him, “and he is not in the arena today.”
Feyd nodded quietly. He put his hand on your swollen belly and caressed it.
“Take care of your mother for me for a while,” he said and you chuckled with an eye-roll.
You watched him put the last pieces of clothes and take his blades. You couldn’t wait for the day when he’d become The Baron and he wouldn’t have to do it anymore. Even though the fights were fixed, you still feared for his life. And to think you had used to find this practice unhonourable. Now you were glad that his combats were cheated.
“Slava, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you blessed him.
He turned his head around for the last time to wink at you playfully and give you his black grin.
“I’ll be right back.”
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MASTERLIST
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psychedelic-ink · 8 months ago
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘
ㅤㅤjoel miller x plus size!f!reader
genre: romance, flowershop au, jackson era, minors dni
word count: 7k
summary: you own a small flower shop in Jackson, when Ellie comes to visit, your life inevitably becomes tangled with the man who cares for her; joel miller.
warnings: age gap, piv in the middle of a flower field, no one sees, praise kink, some angst because joel, oral (fem receiving)
a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while and honestly, life has been kicking me in the gut lately with everything its got.
This originally was a commission, reader had a name and I've been working at it for months but sadly the person who commissioned be backed out last second saying they weren't interested anymore meaning I'm not getting paid for this work. Again, it's on me. Admittedly I've been slow on commissions due to my living situation and work and I should've taken half the payment upfront but trusting it was a joel fic I didn't really take extra precautions.
I decided to share it anyway, and the person who commissioned me said that I could. Any kind of writing has been hard for me to do lately and I really like how this one turned out. But since now I'm not getting paid for this work I decided to take out readers name and make some changes to the overall plot that I was given.
Sadly, I can't take any more commissions at the moment before finishing the ones I have left, but I'd be grateful for any kind of support you guys can give. I need to move out this summer (if I don't, I don't have a shadow of a doubt that my aunts will tell me to leave anyway) and I've been trying to save up as much as I can. Everything just has been a lot lately and I'm feeling anxious about my decisions and lost.
Again, any kind of support is greatly appreciated even tho I know I don't deserve it at this time:
my kofi
**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜
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You unlock the door to your quaint flower shop, the antique bell that you found and Tommy fixed chiming softly in greeting. Stepping outside, you're immediately embraced by the warmth of the morning sun, its golden rays dancing playfully on your skin. The air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, a delicate blend of fresh blossoms and earthy notes that fills your lungs with every inhale.
Dressed in a flowing dress, you feel perfectly in tune with the season as you begin arranging the colorful array of flowers on display outside your shop. The fabric of your dress sways gently in the breeze, a soft symphony of movement that mirrors the graceful dance of the petals.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and tilt your face towards the sky, basking in the gentle caress of the sun's rays. Above you, the cerulean expanse is dotted with fluffy white clouds, their shapes shifting and morphing with each passing moment.
With practiced hands, you arrange the blooms with care, each stem finding its place in the intricate tapestry of colors and textures. The vibrant hues of the flowers contrast beautifully against the backdrop of the weathered brick walls of your shop, creating a scene that's both inviting and enchanting.
As you work, you can't help but smile at the thought of the joy these flowers will bring to those who pass by. It’s been hard adopting to a new and broken world, but ironically, you have found your passion. Something to make you eager to get up in the morning. Of course your heart still ached for those you had lost, the suffering, but working on flowers, something living and growing and adapting just like you managed to lighten the weight on your heart. Whether it's a simple bouquet to brighten someone's day or a thoughtful arrangement for a special occasion, your creations have a way of spreading happiness and light wherever they go.
With the last of the flowers arranged to perfection, you step back to admire your handiwork, a sense of pride swelling within you. With a contented sigh, you turn to head back inside, ready to greet the day with open arms and a heart full of gratitude.
That is, until, you hear a surprised gasp. 
“Holy shit—” 
Turning around at the sound, you're met with the sight of a familiar face. A young girl you've seen around town quite frequently. You haven’t officially met her yet, but you know her name: Ellie. 
Realizing that the young girl has never visited your flower shop before, you understand the source of her surprise. With a warm smile, you approach her and greet her by name. "You're Ellie, right? Tommy's niece?"
Ellie nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright with excitement. "Yeah, that's me! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I've just never been here before. The flowers are... fucking amazing—"
She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth, looking towards you apologetically. The gesture makes you laugh.
"I'm glad you like them," you reply, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her reaction. "Feel free to take a closer look if you'd like."
Her eyes light up at the invitation, and she eagerly follows you inside the cozy flower shop. The atmosphere inside is warm and inviting, with shelves lined with potted plants and bouquets of flowers in various stages of bloom. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating the vibrant colors of the blooms.
As you lead Ellie further into the shop, you can't help but notice the curious glances she casts around, taking in every detail with a sense of wonder. The air is filled with the subtle fragrance of flowers, a delicate scent that lingers in the air and adds to the charm of the space.
"So, Ellie," you begin, breaking the comfortable silence as you approach a display of freshly cut flowers, "Anything you like? I’d be more than happy to gift you some."
Ellie's eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks around the shop. "Really? But there’s so many, how can I even choose?"
"Well, you're in luck," you reply, gesturing towards the colorful blooms around you. "I can just make you a bouquet of everything. Just pick out your favorites."
Ellie's gaze drifts over the display, her expression thoughtful as she considers your question. "Hmm, that's a tough one, they all look so fucking cool," she muses, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. "How about sunflowers and. . . daisies? There's just something about them that feels... I don't know, hopeful, I guess."
You nod in understanding, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Sunflowers are a wonderful choice. They symbolize warmth, happiness, and positivity. Definitely a fitting choice for someone as vibrant as you, Ellie."
She grins at the compliment, "Thanks,. So, what about you? Do you have a favorite flower?"
“That’s a tough one, but I’d had to say daffodils. They just make me feel right at home. . . even though home has become a difficult word.” 
She doesn’t answer you, at least not in a way that you would expect. She nods and says,
"Let's add some daffodils to the mix too. If that’s okay.”
“If course it is. I said any flower didn’t I?”
With Ellie's choices in mind, you set to work gathering the blooms she selected, expertly arranging them into a vibrant bouquet. Your hands move with practiced precision, the gentle rustle of petals and stems filling the air as you weave the different flowers together.
Each blossom is a work of art in its own right, vibrant hues mingling together in a harmonious dance of colors and textures. Sunflowers, with their golden petals reaching towards the sky, stand tall and proud at the center of the bouquet, symbolizing warmth and happiness. Daisies, with their delicate white petals and cheerful yellow centers, add a touch of innocence and purity to the mix. And finally, the daffodils.
Beside you, Ellie watches with rapt attention, her eyes shining, "It's so pretty," she remarks, her voice filled with awe.
You smile at her words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at the sight of her delight. "Flowers have a way of bringing joy and beauty into our lives," you reply, your voice soft with reverence. "They remind us to appreciate the simple things and to find beauty in the world around us."
Finally, the bouquet is complete, a stunning masterpiece that radiates warmth and joy. You present it to Ellie with a flourish, a sense of satisfaction washing over you at the sight of her delighted expression.
"It's perfect," Ellie exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement as she admires the bouquet in her hands. "Thank you so much. This is amazing."
"It was my pleasure," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness at her words. "I'm glad you like it. And remember, if you ever want to learn more about flowers or need some help with anything, you know where to find me."
Ellie nods eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious. "Definitely. Thanks again. This means a lot."
As Ellie turns to leave, a sudden thought seems to strike her. She pauses, her hand on the door, before turning back to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Hey," she begins, a playful smile dancing on her lips, "do you need a flower assistant? I mean, I’d be nice to work here, and you seem really cool."
"Well, Ellie," you reply with a teasing grin, "If you're serious about helping out around here, I'd be more than happy to have you on board."
Ellie's eyes widen,. "Wait, really?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You mean it?"
You nod, your smile genuine as you reassure her. "Of course. I could use all the help I can get, especially during busy times. And besides, it'll be fun having you around. Consider yourself officially hired as my flower assistant, Ellie."
A grin spreads across Ellie's face, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of working alongside you in the flower shop. "Wow, I don't even know what to say," she admits, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. 
"No need to say anything," you grin. "Just don’t be late."
As Ellie nods, a sense of anticipation fills the air, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. With a shared sense of excitement and determination, you and Ellie set to work, ready to take on whatever challenges and adventures the future may hold for your blossoming partnership.
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The next day unfolds with a golden hue, promising another beautiful day in Jackson. As you prepare for the day ahead, a sense of excitement tingles in the air knowing that you'll be mentoring Ellie, your newfound flower assistant. Ellie arrives earlier than you expected, her eyes oozing with sleep.
"Good morning, Ellie," you greet her with a warm smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "Ready for your first day?"
Ellie grins back, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I’m just not used to waking up so early."
With a chuckle, you lead her to the work table, where several potted plants await repotting. However, before diving into the day's tasks, Ellie's curiosity gets the better of her.
"How do you find all these flowers?" she asks. "I mean, with the infected and everything, it must be hard."
"I have a few spots outside of Jackson where I like to go to collect flowers. There's a field not too far from here that's brimming with all sorts of blooms."
Ellie's eyes widen and you can tell she's intrigued by the idea of venturing beyond the safety of the town's walls. "That sounds amazing," she breathes, her voice filled with wonder. "Do you go there often?"
You nod, a fond smile playing on your lips as you recall the countless trips you've taken to the flower field. "Yes, whenever I need to restock or find something special," you reply. "But I've also started growing some flowers myself. It's a work in progress, but it's been rewarding to see them bloom."
"That's so cool," she exclaims. "I'd love to see the field sometime, if you're up for it."
With a grin, you nod, "I'd be happy to take you," you reply. "But for now, let's focus on getting these plants repotted. We'll save the field trip for another day."
As if on cue, the shop door swings open, and a customer steps inside, a worn backpack slung over their shoulder. They approach the counter with a friendly smile, their eyes scanning the colorful array of blooms on display.
"Good morning," you greet them with a smile, your attention shifting to the customer. "How can I help you today?"
The customer returns your smile, reaching into their backpack to retrieve a small item wrapped in cloth. "I have something to trade," they explain, placing the item on the counter before you.
You unwrap the cloth to reveal a delicate piece of jewelry, a handmade necklace adorned with intricate beads and charms. It's a beautiful piece, clearly crafted with care and attention to detail.
Ellie watches with interest as you examine the necklace, her curiosity piqued by the exchange taking place before her eyes. "What are you trading for?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.
You glance at Ellie with a smile, impressed by her keen observation. "Well, Ellie, sometimes customers trade items in exchange for flowers," you explain, turning back to the customer. "It's a way for them to get something they need while also supporting the shop. As for how I decide what the flowers are worth, it's based on a few factors—like the rarity of the flowers, the time and effort it took to grow them, and of course, their beauty."
With a nod, you accept the necklace, carefully placing it aside before selecting a beautiful bouquet of flowers to offer in exchange. As the customer leaves the shop, their smile brighter than before, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you've made another person's day a little bit brighter.
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“Ellie, I’m not sure me bargin’ into your new workplace is the best introduction,” Joel says.
“You’ll be fine,” she says, dragging Joel by the arm. “Besides, weren’t you the one grumbling about not liking me spending all my time with a stranger? What else was I fucking supposed to do?”
Joel lets out an elongated sigh. “Language.”
He can’t see it, but he knows she’s rolling her eyes at him. The tiny, rundown flower shop soon comes into view and Joel can’t help but think of all the improvements he could make: the crooked step, the splintered door, the moss growing from the bottom of the woody exterior—
This shop won’t last next winter, he thinks with furrowed brows. And even though he’s been skeptical about Ellie spending all of her time here, he’s seen the improvement in her mood. Things just haven’t been the same since their return from the hospital, he couldn’t shake the distant feeling between him and her no matter how hard he tried. It had become something even he couldn’t fix.
But then, one day, she’d come home with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d ever seen, with a wide smile plastered across her young face. Then she mentioned the keeper of the shop. Ever since then, his interest had been piqued.
Approaching the shop, he notices a figure outside arranging flowers, your silhouette bathed in the warm morning sun. You appear younger than he anticipated, your beauty catching him off guard. The way your dress contours your curves adds to your allure, a sight unexpected yet captivating. A gentle breeze tousles your hair as you work, momentarily leaving him speechless.
Contrasting his hesitation, you bound up to the shop with your usual cheerfulness. "Hey there!" Ellie calls out. The woman turns at her greeting, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she sets down the flowers. "Good morning!" 
He hangs back, observing as Ellie effortlessly initiates a conversation with you. Your interaction flows with ease, suggesting a familiarity beyond your brief acquaintance.
While you chat, an unsettling feeling settles within him. There's an inexplicable pull towards the shop owner, despite his attempts to resist. Watching Ellie interact with you stirs a strange longing within him, leaving him more unsettled than before.
Before he can dwell on his thoughts further, Ellie snaps him out of it. "Joel, don’t be a stranger! Introduce yourself, she's the one I've been telling you about."
With a sigh, he steps forward, his approach cautious. As your eyes meet, a peculiar sense of recognition passes between you, as if you've crossed paths in another life.
"Hi," he manages to say, his voice gruff yet not devoid of warmth. "I'm Joel."
As he clasps your hand, a spark ignites between you, a connection unfurling with each passing moment.
“Joel?” you say slowly, as if tasting his name in your mouth. “Joel as in Tommy Miller’s brother?”
Your hand feels soft and delicate as it clasps his own, and he can't help but notice the subtle tremor in your fingers. It's a small detail, but it speaks volumes, hinting at a vulnerability that he hadn't expected from this beautiful stranger.
"Yeah, that's me," he responds with a nod, offering a friendly smile in return. "Tommy's my brother."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joel. Ellie speaks very highly of you."
As you exchange pleasantries, he finds himself drawn to the warmth in your gaze, a warmth that seems to seep into his very soul. There's an openness about you, a genuineness that he finds both refreshing and disarming.
While you talk, he can't help but be captivated by the way your lips move, the gentle cadence of your voice. It's a strange sensation, this sudden fascination with a woman he's just met, but he finds himself unable to look away.
Your conversation is interrupted by Ellie's playful interruption, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from you, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of leaving your side. But as they follow Ellie into the shop, he can't shake the feeling that meeting you has stirred something within him, something that he can't quite articulate.
Entering the shop, he can't help but notice even more things wrong– the creaky floorboards, the peeling paint, the flickering lights overhead. It's evident that the place is in dire need of renovations.
Despite the less-than-ideal surroundings, Ellie's excitement is contagious, and he finds himself getting swept up in the moment. She points out various flowers, their vibrant hues and delicate petals bringing a welcome burst of color to the dreary environment.
"These lilies are my absolute favorite," Ellie exclaims, thrusting a handful of flowers towards him with a mischievous grin.
He can't suppress a surprised sneeze as the pollen tickles his nose, and they both dissolve into laughter,and momentarily, all his concerns seem to fade away.
But just as they're catching their breath, you enter the room, your presence once again capturing his attention. There's something about you that intrigues him, a warmth and kindness that draws him in effortlessly.
A sheepish smile spreads across his face as your eyes meet. You return the smile, your gaze gentle and understanding, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though you're the only two people in the room.
“Who helped you fix the place up?” Joel asks you as Ellie runs off to change the water of the vases. “
"Tommy actually," you explain. "He's been a tremendous help, especially with all the repairs."
Joel’s brows knit together and he ignores the way your smile falters as he speaks, “Well, leave it to my brother to do a shit job. This shop won’t last next winter.”
“O–Oh. . .” you hug yourself, thumbs moving along the contours of your arms. His heart sinks in, leave it to him to make someone feel bad.
“Not to say it can’t be fixed,” he continues abruptly. “I can help you out. Wouldn’t want Ellie’s new favorite spot to get buried under the snow.”
“Really?” you gasp, smile returning. “You would do that?”
“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I just. . . I just wasn’t expecting such an offer thank you. It means the world to me.”
Suddenly Joel feels stiff from how deeply you stare at him, and then he realizes how close they are, only a breath away between their lips. He turns his head, grunting, “Don’t mention it,” a stuttered breath leaves him. “Really. Don’t.”
Your growing smile surprises him, as does your not backing away.
“You got it, Mr. Miller.”
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Watching Joel work on fixing the roof of the shop, you can't help but feel a flutter of warmth stir within you. His muscles ripple with each movement, his arms bulging with strength as he lifts heavy beams and hammers nails into place. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, catching the sunlight and creating a halo of light around him.
You find yourself mesmerized by the sight, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him. His white tank top clings to his chest, damp with sweat, and the short-sleeved flannel he wears hangs open, exposing the tank top underneath. Every movement sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to your cheeks.
The sound of his grunts fills the air, low and guttural, and it sends a thrill through you that you can't quite explain. There's something primal about the way he works, a raw energy that draws you in and leaves you feeling breathless.
You watch as he reaches up to adjust a beam, his muscles flexing with the effort, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to run your hands over his warm, sweaty skin. The thought sends a shudder coursing through you, and you quickly look away, feeling flustered and embarrassed by the intensity of your thoughts.
But no matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your gaze keeps drifting back to Joel, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And as you watch him work, you can't help but feel a strange sense of longing stir within.
But for now, all you can do is watch and admire from afar, content to bask in the warmth of Joel's presence as he works tirelessly to repair the roof of the shop. And as you watch him, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself with determination as you clutch the bowl of freshly picked black mulberries and raspberries in your hands. With a quick glance up at Joel, who is perched precariously on the ladder, you gather your courage and make your way outside.
"Hey, Joel!" you call out, your voice tinged with nervousness as you approach the ladder. "I brought you some fruit and iced tea. Thought you could use a break."
Joel looks down at you with a grateful smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Thanks. That sounds great."
As he descends the ladder, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. With each step he takes, you steal glances at him, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him.
But it's when he reaches the bottom of the ladder and stretches upwards to take the bowl of fruit from your hands that you feel your breath catch in your throat. The movement causes his tank top to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of his stomach, and you swallow thickly at the sight.
As Joel settles down to enjoy the fruit and iced tea, you find yourself drawn to the empty spot next to him on the porch. With a nervous glance in his direction, you take a seat beside him.
The warmth of the wooden porch beneath you contrasts with the cool breeze that sweeps through, and you can't help but feel a sense of calm settle over you as you sit beside Joel. The silence between you is comfortable, broken only by the occasional sound of birds chirping in the distance.
“Lovely day, ain’t it,” Joel takes a bite of the freshly picked black mulberries, the deep purple juice stains his lips, a stark contrast against the ruggedness of his features, and you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.
The juice glistens in the fading sunlight, tracing a vivid trail along his lips as he savors the sweetness of the fruit. Each movement of his jaw seems deliberate, each bite a study in pleasure as he indulges in the simple pleasure of the moment.
A soft breeze rustles through the trees, lifting strands of his hair and sending them dancing in the golden light. But your gaze remains fixed on his lips.
The silence and sight makes you light-headed and eager to say anything, no matter how idiotic it might be. 
“Aren't you a little old to be doing this much heavy lifting?” 
“Aren't you a little too young to be lookin’ at me like that?” 
Your shoulders rise, blood rushing to your head as you look down. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. Butterflies flutter madly within you, the wings tickling the insides of your stomach. You only swallow. “Your lips are stained from the mulberry.” 
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 
He takes another one, biting down with his lips, he finds your gaze. You watch a tiny drop go down his chin. The two of you are close. So incredibly close. It’s been like this since he started working on the shop. A pull that is too hard to ignore. 
“Well,” he breaks the silence. “Better finish up before the sun sets.” 
Joel stands and your heart breaks a little. You blink from where you’re sat, staring at him, yearning for him. 
“Yeah. Wouldn’t want you trying to find your way home in the dark.” 
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“You know, I could’ve come here on my own. I always do.” 
“I know. Just wanted to make sure you have someone lookin’ after you.” 
“For someone to be known as a grump, you’re quite a softie.” 
“I’m leavin’.” 
“No—!”
Your fingers close around his arm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you find yourself frozen in place, your pulse quickening as you realize just how close you are to him.
Joel's gaze meets yours, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart race even faster. His eyes drop to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back up to meet your gaze. You notice the hints of a fading smile, “You were joking,” you say slowly, letting go of him. 
“That I was, wildflower,” he doesn’t move away and neither do you. Your breath catches within your throat, the moment stretching between your two like rubber. Before you can say anything Joel’s eyes flicker to something behind you and he smiles. “I think we’re here.” 
As you turn around, your heart skips a beat. The field of flowers stretches out endlessly, a sea of color and beauty that seems to go on forever. The grass has grown taller since the last time you were here, swaying gently in the breeze and creating a soft, rhythmic rustle that fills the air.
The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the landscape and setting the flowers ablaze with color. Reds and yellows, blues and purples, a riot of hues that dance and swirl in the gentle breeze.
You take a step forward, the grass crunching beneath your feet as you walk further into the field. The scent of poppies and blue hyacinths fills your nostrils, sweet and intoxicating, and you can't help but close your eyes and breathe it in.
The wind sweeps across the field, sending waves of grass rippling in its wake. The sound is soothing, a gentle whisper that seems to carry you away on a tide of tranquility.
For a moment, you forget about everything else – the worries and the doubts, the uncertainties and the fears. All that matters is the beauty of this moment, the beauty of this place, and the beauty of being here with Joel. 
With a rush of emotion swirling within you, you turn to Joel, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. He's still standing close, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.
Without thinking, without hesitating, you lean forward and press your lips to his. At first, Joel is taken aback, his body stiffening in surprise. But then, he caves, his lips moving against yours in a slow, tender rhythm.
His hands come up to cradle your face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. You feel his tongue on your bottom lip and open up for him eagerly, the taste of him feels like electricity shooting through you. Heat pools between your legs, Your breasts tingle with the mere thought of having his hands on them, nipples aching and hard. 
Joel breaks away briefly, then closes the distance again. Small hisses against your swollen lips over and over until neither of you can breathe. He hungers for it almost. And so do you. “Joel,” you whisper, eyes cloudy. “Please.” 
“Is that what you want, wildflower?” he drags his nose down the side of your cheek, facial hair scratching delightfully against the sensitive skin of your neck. “For me to fuck you here? Right out in the open?” his voice trembles. “Like animals?” 
“God, yes—” your insides clench. “I would want nothing more. Been thinking about you since the day I met you, your hands, your mouth, you as a whole.” 
His hands drop to your ass and he gives the tender flesh a strong squeeze, “You want me?” 
“I do.” 
You suddenly find yourself on the ground, the grass tickling your exposed legs and arms, the skirt of your dress rolled up to your waist. Joel’s weight is a welcoming comfort on top of you, another gust of warm wind blows. With a groan, he pulls down the sweetheart neckline of your dress, exposing both your breasts. While holding one, he kisses the other, drawing the stiff nipple into his mouth. He sucks harshly, your body jolting with pleasure. The soaking mess between your legs grows. 
“Joel,” you moan, back arching. “Fuck—” 
He swirls the tip of his tongue around the nipple and grazes his teeth against it. Calloused fingers play with the other. Your mind is swimming in pleasure. He brings the skirt of your dress further up and traces his lips down the fabric, when you look down, you see him between your legs, his eyes darker than normal as he stares into your soul. The tips of his fingers dance along the elastic of your panties, asking for permission. 
You breathe out a yes, barely audible, but he nods and tugs the fabric down. When he latches his mouth on to you, the world stops. His mouth feels divine. His tongue delves between your folds, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit. You shudder against him and he moans into you. The reverberations of the sound force a gasp out of you and you swear you feel him smiling. 
His fingers trace patterns along your thighs, teasing and stroking as his mouth works wonders between your legs. You're on the edge, the pleasure building up with each flick of his tongue. You reach down and bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding him where you need him the most.
Joel picks up the pace, his tongue moving faster, his fingers slipping inside of you. You can feel your body starting to tighten, the coil in your stomach about to unravel. You grip onto him tighter, your hips bucking against his mouth, and with one final flick of his tongue, you come undone.
You cry out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Joel continues to lightly lick and suck, drawing out your pleasure until you're completely spent. He makes his way back up to your lips, kissing you deeply as you both catch your breath.
“That was…” you trail off, unable to find the right words for the mind-blowing experience you just had.
“Amazin’,” Joel finishes for you.
You nod, still a little breathless. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your body against his. Joel's hands roam over your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his erection against your thigh, and you know that he needs release just as much as you do.
“Been so long since I’ve tasted somethin’ this sweet,” he rasps. “Thank you.” 
You hear the blood rushing in your ears, “You’re the sweet one,” you mumble, tenderly touching the scratchy surface of his cheek. “So sweet.” 
He smiles and as he kisses the curve of your palm, shuffles above you, starting to get up. A deep frown forms between your brows. “And where are you going?” you pout, wrapping your arms around him. You feel the outline of his length as he lowers himself once more, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.
“I thought you wanted to gather some flowers.” 
“Not yet,” you murmur, eyes glazed. “At least, not before feeling you inside me.” 
“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a whimpering breath, grinding himself against your bare cunt. “You really know how to get a man goin’.” 
“Prove it.” 
His eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite describe. His breath stutters, then, without even looking, he unbuckles himself, never breaking eye contact. Joel’s hair ruffles with the wind, yet he doesn’t even blink. The head of his cock catches against your clit, ripping a moan from your throat. He fills you with one sloppy thrust, the length of him stretching you enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 
“Joel—Oh my god—” 
“That’s it, good girl, takin’ my cock so well. Feels good?” 
Slack-jawed, you nod. He goes deeper. “Want you to feel me for weeks, wildflower. And I want you to think of me every time you come to this god—” thrust. “—damn” thrust. “—field.” 
You can only moan at his words, his hands grip your lovehandles, squeezing and pulling you closer to him every time he rocks forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin, he sucks. Your body convulses, shaking against him. 
Sparks ricochet through every limb of your body as you feel the heat pooling in your core. Joel moves his hand from your lower back to cup your breast, his fingers teasing and plucking at your nipple. The pleasure ricochets through your body, making you feel like you're on fire.
“Come for me, darlin’.” Joel growls into your ear, his voice rough and primal. “Come on my cock.”
His words send you over the edge, your body shaking and convulsing beneath him as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly. The world blurs around you, all your senses consumed by the feeling of Joel's body against yours.
"Joel—" you moan, your voice lost in the wind as you reach your peak. 
He groans in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. After one final, deep thrust, he pulls out and spills over your stomach, his body shaking against yours. You both ride out the waves of pleasure until finally, you collapse against each other, panting and spent.
You lay in the flower field, a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty bodies. Joel's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body.
"I've never felt anything like this before," you say quietly, almost to yourself.
Joel lifts his head to look at you, his eyes softening. "Me neither, wildflower. Me neither."
As the sun begins to set, you both lay there, entwined in each other's arms. The field has become a symbol of something more than beauty. And as long as those flowers bloom, you know your love for each other will continue to grow.
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A week. 
A week without hearing from him, seeing him, touching him. 
A painful week. 
It’s almost as if he never existed. As if the moment in your favorite field was nothing but your imagination. The only reason why you know it's real is because Ellie still comes by every day, and despite knowing it’s impossible, you still feel him deep inside. It only heightens whenever you have to travel back to the field to gather flowers for the shop. 
You watch as Ellie places more daisies into a vase. She’s been her usual self, joking around, telling you about all the details of her life. It’s hard not to ask her about Joel and how he’s been. 
Some nasty part of your mind whispers words of discouragement, telling you he only wanted you for your body, for your charm, and got what he wanted. Your heart clenches. It might be true. You were young after all, emotional, broken. He’d already gone through all that, killed to stay alive, for loved ones, gone through grief—why would he want to take on another’s problems as well? 
“Hey, Ellie?” 
She turns to you, eyes slightly wide due to the rasp of your voice, “Yeah boss?” 
“Can you watch the shop for a second, I have something I need to do that I forgot about.” 
You don't wait for her nod as you exit the shop. You know he’s home. He has to be. 
Luckily it doesn’t take you long to reach their house, your knock is loud and swift. You know you’ve taken him by surprise by the expression when he opens the door. His mouth is slightly ajar, his brows knit together. 
“What are you—” 
“I came to talk,” you brush past him, heading inside. Joel lingers at the door but soon after follows you inside anyway. 
He sighs, “What do you want to talk about?” 
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Us," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I need to know what happened, Joel. Why you've been avoiding me."
Joel's jaw clenches at your words, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "I ain't good for you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You deserve better than someone like me."
You feel a surge of anger rising within you at his words, frustration bubbling up to the surface. "That's for me to decide, Joel," you say, your voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not some fragile flower that needs to be protected. I can make my own choices, and right now, I choose you."
Joel's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You don't know what you're saying," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a mess, a broken man with too much blood on his hands. You deserve someone who can give you the world, not someone who can barely keep himself together. You’re young. You still have so much ahead of you—"
“No! That’s not what I want. I want you, you’re the only person who’s made me feel like. . . like myself. . .before. And wanted.” 
Your voice begins to shake, you see the hesitation within his body, hod his hand slightly moves forward to hold you, to touch you, but he doesn’t. 
“I can’t do this to you,” his hands slide into his pockets, he gestures to the door. “Get out.” 
The blood freezes in your veins, your eyes grow wide, your chest constricts, “What?” 
“I said to get out,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “Get out, please.” 
And you do. 
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“You need to get your shit together.” 
“Language, Ellie, dammit.” 
She glares at him from across the table. It’s an early morning, earlier than he’d liked. He’s been feeling hallowed out ever since your visit. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the betrayal. He knew that he’d broken something when avoiding you, something tender and not so easily fixable. 
But what was he supposed to do? You were young, he didn’t want to trap you, didn’t want you to throw the best years of your life for an old man like him. 
Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut. His head hurts. All he can think about is you, your body, how eager it was to take him, the delectable curves he couldn’t get enough of. 
He misses your taste on his tongue. 
“She’s miserable too, you know.” 
Joel’s eye snap wide open. “Who?” 
“You know who,” she shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s definitely upset and so are you—Just fix it. Don’t be an asshole” 
He let’s out a sigh, she’s right. He needs to fix this somehow. Joel stares at Ellie, her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn't realized just how much his actions had affected not only you but also Ellie. The weight of his own guilt settles heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the mess he's made.
"Yeah," he mutters, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."
He runs a hand through his hair, the tension in his muscles making every movement feel heavy and strained. He knows he needs to make things right, to somehow find a way to mend the rift he's created between you and him.
But how? How could he possibly make things right after everything that's happened?
"I'll talk to her," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll fix it."
Ellie nods in approval, her expression softening slightly as she looks at him. "Good," she says, her tone gentle. "Because I don't want to see either of you hurting anymore."
She was right and he knew it. 
“The shop’s closed today,” Ellie says as he grabbed his jacket. “I don’t know where she is.” 
But he did. He knew exactly where you would be. The place he tasted you, the place he felt your body against him. 
Joel's heart sinks as he approaches the flower field and sees you sitting there, your shoulders hunched over as you hug your knees to your chest. He can hear your sobs from a distance, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.
For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do or say. But then, with a heavy sigh, he pushes aside his doubts and makes his way towards you.
As he draws closer, he can see your whole body trembling with the force of your emotions. His heart aches at the sight, knowing that he's the cause of your pain. He kneels infront of you, gently touching your wrists.
"Hey," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Joel."
You startle at the sound of his voice, lifting your head to look at him with tear-streaked eyes. For a moment, there's a flicker of surprise in your gaze, followed by a wave of raw emotion.
"Joel?" you choke out, your voice thick with tears. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to find you," he says, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't stand the thought of you hurtin’ like this."
"I thought... I thought you didn't care," You sniffle, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. 
Joel reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. "I care more than you know," he says. "I made a mistake, a big one, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to. .  .I didn’t think I deserved someone like you."
"I missed you," you admit softly, tears still streaming down your cheeks.
Joel's heart clenches at your words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bury your face against his chest.
"I missed you too, wildflower," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."
He hears the smile in your voice. 
“You already do.” 
1K notes · View notes
theyluvkarolina · 3 months ago
Text
౨ৎ PLAYING FAVORITES ౨ৎ
masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!
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SUMMARY౨ৎ Oscar’s daughter has favorites. And sadly, he isn’t one of hers, in fact her favorite happens to be her favorite American, Logan. He says it’s fine and that he doesn’t care… but actions speak louder than words.
PAIRING ౨ৎ Not really a pairing, but reader makes multiple apperances 🩵
WARNINGS ౨ৎ Sadie being a menace
A/N ౨ৎ got requested more sadie, the more sadie you shall receive. i was writing this before the logan news and i’m absolutely distraught. i decided to start from the group up and include logan to feel a bit better hurt ❤️‍🩹
Part of the Dad Oscar mini-series 🩵
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“Sadie, are you ready to see Dad drive fast?” You asked, adjusting her little McLaren cap as I held her hand to the garage.
“No.” Sadie says bluntly in her toddler way, her lips forming a small pout as she clutched the tiny stuffed koala Oscar had bought her from her a year ago from Australia.
You couldn’t help but blink at her straightforwardness, crouching down to be at eye level with her. “No? Not even to cheer him on?”
Sadie shook her head with determination. “No. Wanna see Logan.”
Sadie’s pout deepened, and she hugged her koala closer to her chest. “Logan’s funny.”
“Yes, he is. But you know who else is funny? Daddy. Remember when he made silly faces during breakfast?” You suggested.
Sadie tilted her head, considering this for a moment, before shaking her head again. “Logan’s funnier.”
Before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching, and there was Oscar, already in his race suit, with a forced grin on his face, clearly overheard the conversation. “Hey, little miss,” he greeted giving a kiss on your cheek before crouching down beside you and holding out his arms for a hug.
Sadie looked at him for a moment, then back at you, before finally deciding to toddle over and give him a quick hug. It was short, sweet, but not as enthusiastic as the ones she usually reserved for Logan recently.
Oscar’s smile faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, lifting her up in his arms. “Guess I’ll have to up my game if I want to be the favorite, huh?” he teased, though there was a trace of something more behind his words.
“Daddy’s funny,” Sadie said, almost as if she was trying to console him.
“Yeah?” Oscar’s eyes lit up with hope, but Sadie quickly added, “But Logan’s funnier.”
You winced, but Oscar just laughed it off, giving her a playful tickle. “Well, Logan better watch out then, because I’m coming for his title.”
This was going to be a long day for Oscar.
`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑
The buzz of the McLaren garage was background noise to Oscar as he watched his Sadie, toddle around with a bright smile on her face. It was a year after her first ever Grand Prix… and safe to say you and Oscar have definitely learned a lot from it. Normally, her little smile would make his heart swell with pride, but today, it was bittersweet. The reason? Logan Sargeant was the source of her joy, not him.
Logan, Logan, Logan. that was the name coming out of her mouth the past month.
Sadie had been enamored with Logan since the first time she was born. Who wouldn’t when their godfather was her dad’s best friend who happened to have the same job?
She would light up at the sight of him, smiling at every chance she could excitedly in her toddler way, always eager to be scooped up into his arms. And Logan, the ever-charming American, was more than happy to oblige.
Oscar leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching as Logan lifted Sadie into the air, eliciting giggles that echoed around the garage. He tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him. So what if Sadie liked Logan more? It wasn’t a competition. He was her father, not Logan. Surely she likes him more.
Right?
“Hey, mate. You good?” Lando’s voice snapped Oscar out of his thoughts. His teammate had appeared beside him, eyebrow raised in concern.
Oscar forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”
Lando followed his gaze to where Logan was now letting Sadie play with his cap, much to her delight. “Looks like someone’s got a new best friend.”
Oscar’s smile faltered slightly. “Yeah… guess she does.”
Lando didn’t miss the hint of disappointment in Oscar’s voice. “You know she still loves you, right? Kids go through phases.”
“I know, I know,” Oscar replied, trying to sound nonchalant as he rolls his eyes. “It’s just… I didn’t think I’d be playing second fiddle to Logan, of all people.”
Lando chuckled. “Well, at least she has good taste. Logan is fun… in his weird American way. Baseball, football, hotdogs and stuff like that. But you’re still her dad… no one can take that from you.”
Oscar nodded, though his eyes were still glued to the scene in front of him. Logan was now teaching Sadie how to high-five, her little hand smacking against his with enthusiasm. The sight should’ve made Oscar laugh, but instead, it made him feel… left out.
“Maybe,” Oscar said quietly, “…but sometimes it feels like I’m just not enough for her.”
Lando looked at him, surprised by the admission. “Oscar, she’s a 2-year-old. It’s not about you being enough or not. She just likes Logan because he’s fun and new. Trust me, when she needs comfort, when she’s upset or scared, it’s you she’ll run to.”
“Did you indirectly call me old and boring?”
“You know what I meant!”
Oscar wanted to believe that, but watching Sadie beam up at Logan made it hard. He knew he was being irrational, that he shouldn’t let a child’s innocent preferences get to him, but the sting was still there.
“…Zak is calling me over.” Lando gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he spots the CEO waving a hand over. “Just keep what I said in mind. She loves you Oscar. Sadie’s just happy to see a face she rarely sees. Good luck in quali, yeah?”
Oscar nodded as Lando walked away, but his focus was still on Sadie and Logan. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—jealous of his best friend, of all people. It was silly, really, but he couldn’t shake it.
As the preparations for Qualifications continued, the garage was abuzz with activity. Oscar was trying to get back into the right mindset when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.
“You look deep in thought,” You said, coming up beside him with a warm smile.
Oscar turned to her, managing a half-hearted smile. “Just thinking. You know how it is.”
Your eyes followed his gaze to where Sadie and Logan were now playing with a small toy car. “She seems to be having a blast with Logan.”
Oscar sighed. “Yeah, she’s been obsessed with him lately. It’s like I’m invisible.”
Your expression softened. You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not invisible, Oscar. Kids can be unpredictable. Logan’s just the new fun thing right now. It doesn’t change how much she loves you.”
Oscar looked at you, the weight of your words hitting him. “I know you’re right. I just hate feeling like I’m second place.”
“Oscar,” You said, lifting his chin with a gentle touch. “Sadie is 2 years-old. I think you need to remember that Sadie’s attachment to Logan doesn’t diminish her love for you. She’s just interested in her godfather she rarely sees. If anything, it just means she’s comfortable with the people around her, and that’s a good thing. Remember how she went from hating everything Lando did in the free practices to loving him at the end of the day? It’s the same thing. You’re her dad, and that’s a role no one else can fill.”
Oscar took a deep breath, letting your words sink in. Your gentle touch and reassuring smile helped ease the knot of insecurity that had settled in his chest. He glanced back at Sadie and Logan, and the sight of his daughter’s unrestrained joy started to warm his heart, even if the jealousy still lingered a bit.
The buzz of the garage continued around you both, and Oscar gave a thoughtful exhale, a much needed one. “Thank you, lovely. I guess I needed that.”
You gave him a soft smile, then glanced over at Sadie. “Logan might be fun for her at the moment, but remember that she’ll always be the one calling you dad.”
Oscar’s lips curved into a grin at your comment.
Yeah. Dad does sound pretty nice.
“Dad!”
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xxsabitoxx · 9 months ago
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Hard to Get | Dad Sanemi
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One thing about babies is the fact that they are either very snuggly or they want nothing to do with you. That was something Sanemi learned the hard way, as his little daughter began her rebellious phase and no longer wanted her daddy’s cuddles.
“You’re a little brat.”
He crossed his arms, trying to look upset with her but the grin on her face was melting his heart. She was clever, she knew she was cute, and she knew damn well her daddy was a sucker for her. “She takes after you, Nemi.”
You grinned at him, watching your baby happily toddle towards you with open arms. “Yeah? Bull! I don’t play hard to get.” His cheeks puffed, pouting sadly as he watched your little girl snuggled into your embrace.
“You? Don’t play hard to get? Sure, Sanemi.” You scooped her up, rocking her like she was tiny again just to hear her little giggles. “I don’t play hard to get, you’re crazy!” Sanemi was standing his ground, which wasn’t surprising. You only rolled your eyes in response, kissing your daughter's head before setting her down.
"Our daughter is a carbon copy of you, my love." You nearly sang it, laughing softly as she toddled toward Sanemi's open arms before quickly bouncing out of his reach again.
"You little-" Sanemi's face had morphed into one of amusement as he moved from a sitting position to a crouch. Your daughter's giggles turned to tiny shrieks of laughter as her father crept towards her.
You watched as your husband slowly chased your little girl, her tiny little legs carrying her as fast as she could write into your open embrace. "I can't save both of us from daddy." You're laughing with her now, scooting backward as Sanemi dramatically stalks towards the two of you. "I'll give you a five-second head start."
Taking the bait, you scooped your little girl up and bounded from the living room. It wasn't rare for you to play "chase", the two of you finding your little girl's laughter to be worth it every time.
You bounded off the engawa and into your lush backyard as Sanemi finished counting and followed after the two of you. You both probably looked crazy to anyone who would be passing, but your little girl's happy shrieks of laughter would get the point across.
"Gotcha!" Sanemi grinned triumphantly after a few minutes of chasing you, arms wrapping around your waist and falling to the grass dramatically. You were panting, melting into his chest as your little girl sat up on your stomach.
"Gain! ah-gain!" she babbles, the smile on her face making her little cheeks look even squishier as she stares down at her tired parents. "Again?" Sanemi sighed, one hand raising to block out the sun as he looked at her. He could feel you laughing, the back of your head bouncing slightly where it lay on his chest.
"You heard her, Nemi."
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wildwestdean · 9 months ago
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sweet and sour
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summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour
pairing: soldier boy x female reader
word count: 3.2k+
warnings: some (mainly) ooc ben, swearing, depictions of alcohol consumption, drunk reader, angst, mentions of drug use, allusions to past sexual behaviours, fluff, hurt/comfort, nicknames/pet names
a/n: okay so i haven't actually made it to soldier boy's appearance in the boys yet, but i had a burning desire to write for him anyway. so yeah just don't judge pls lol
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“What the fuck are you doing?” boomed a voice from behind you. 
You jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but turned with a grin upon recognizing whose voice it was. 
“Ben!” you giggled, meeting his confused gaze with bright eyes as you slightly swayed on your feet. “What’re you doing?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to fight off the smirk forming on his lips as he ignored your question. “Looks like you had a good time out, huh, sweetheart?”
You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the term of endearment, or the string of giggles that left your lips. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but it never failed to make you giddy - especially now. “I did!” you announced, before a frown suddenly took over your face as you remembered why you were in the kitchen “But now I want another drink, and I can’t find anythin’.” 
Ben just stared at you for a moment, taking in your rosey cheeks and glossy eyes; but most importantly, the frown that currently adorned your adorable face. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than for that frown to disappear. 
“Alright,” he sighed, heading over to you. “What do you want?” 
You watched as he approached, taking in his more casual appearance of a t-shirt and sweats - and, you noticed with a shy grin, a pair of old man slippers. He came to a stop just before you, and you paused as you stared up at his stoic face while he towered over you. You didn’t even hear his question, too distracted by his overwhelming everything to even realize he asked something. 
He softly called your name to rouse you from your stupor, repeating it a little more gruffly when it didn’t work the first time. “What?” you asked, blinking up at his annoyed yet smirking face. 
“I asked you what you wanted,” he murmured. 
“Oh,” you said, your face scrunching together as you thought about it for a few moments. “I dunno,” you determined with a shrug. 
“And you expect me to find something for you?” he asked curtly, his brows rising in disbelief.  
Your brow unfurrowed as you grinned up at him. “Yes, please!” you declared eagerly, oblivious to the fact that he did not want to cater to you. 
He clenched his jaw, extremely irritated with his urge to smile at the sight of your cheesy grin. “Fucking-” he started, before he cut himself off with a long sigh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine. Just go sit down or something.”  
“Why?” you asked sadly, the frown taking over your face again. 
“Why?” he echoed incredulously. “When I came in, you were trying to find a drink while just staring at the fucking glassware for over a minute. That’s why.”
“Were you watchin’ me?” you asked smugly, smirking up at him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean I can’t help find a drink!” you argued, completely missing his point. 
His blank expression faltered for a second, a flash of colour fleeting across his face so quick it may as well have never been there. Then he simply barked a laugh, which only deepened your frown. “I bet you wish I was, huh? And you know, that's actually exactly what it means, dollface,” he chuckled darkly, tracing his knuckles along your cheek before suddenly grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. “So sit this one out,” he said, ignoring your shriek of shock and protest. 
“Fine,” you grumbled, completely bewildered by the ease in which he manoeuvred you; as if it cost him zero effort. Which, of course, you knew to be true. 
“Good,” he said, smiling in satisfaction before ghosting a kiss against your forehead. “Now don’t fuckin’ fall off,” he warned as he walked over to the coffee machine. 
You watched him in confusion, your swirling brain trying to figure out why he was suddenly so much more affectionate with you. You were used to him teasing you, or returning your flirtations and banter, though this felt like more than that. Maybe he was just being extra nice since you were drunk. Or maybe you only thought he was being extra nice because, well, you were drunk. 
“Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, glancing over at you. “Why are you so frowny? I thought you liked your stupid girls’ night thing,” he added, leaning against the island with his arms crossed. 
“I do like my girls' nights! And I’m not frowny” you grumbled, almost offended he would suggest otherwise. 
“No?” he challenged, arching a brow as he took a few steps towards you. “‘Cause last I checked, this wasn’t your pretty smile,” he teased, tracing a thumb against your persistently downturned lips. Your smile naturally grew at that, and he beamed in response. “There’s my girl.” 
Your eyes widened at his words, and your reaction must have made Ben realize what he was doing. With slightly widened eyes of his own, he dropped his hand from your face as if burned and turned away from you once more, busying himself with making your coffee - exactly the way you liked it. 
You watched in silence, your feet softly swaying against the lower cabinets as your mind drifted in and out. “You don’t have any company tonight?” you found yourself asking suddenly.
“Think I’d be in here doing this if I had fucking company?” he asked hotly. “And I’m pretty sure you know when the last time I had company was,” he added bitterly. 
Through all the months of you living with Ben, you had noticed when his parade of bed warmers had started to dwindle down; and you had definitely noticed when it stopped altogether. Part of you likes to wish you had something to do with it, while the other part knew that was insane.
“Okay, grouchy,” you scolded with a chuckle. “Don’t act like it’s my fault.” 
“When the fuck did I act like it was your fault?” he snapped, growing exasperated. 
“Are you almost done?” you asked brazenly, ignoring his question. “I’m thirsty.”
“Coming right up, princess,” he sneered. 
You knew it was meant in a derogatory way based on his tone, yet you couldn’t help the warm tingle that spread through you anyway. 
“Here,” he grunted after a few minutes, nearly shoving the mug at you. He raised his eyebrows impatiently when all you did was stare down at it. “I better not have made this for nothing,” he warned. 
You gingerly took it from his hands, staring at it as if it was a foreign object; because, with a fluttering heart, you realized that he gave you your favourite mug - though you knew it was probably just a coincidence. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly, grinning softly at him before taking a sip. 
“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he hastily turned his back on you once more. 
“You seem extra grumpy tonight,” you pointed out, watching him intently as you happily sipped away. 
“Who fucking cares?” he grumbled, keeping his attention off you as he made himself a drink - a strong one. He had a sinking feeling that if he looked at you he’d feel all warm inside again, and he refused to let that happen. “Besides. Maybe me being extra grumpy has to do with the drunk girl currently sitting on my counter.” 
“Oh,” you said meekly. “I’m bothering you?”
“You always fucking bother me,” he mumbled, slamming the bottle down. 
“I don’t mean to,” you assured quietly, your vision growing blurry with unshed tears. “I thought we’ve been getting along,” you added sadly. 
“Me putting up with you isn’t us getting along, dollface,” he sneered. 
You inhaled sharply at his declaration, your tears finally breaking loose and running down your face. “I can just leave you alone, then,” you offered, your voice a mere whisper. 
Ben made the mistake of glancing over at you, and the pang of guilt he felt inside his chest really pissed him off. He begrudgingly made his way over to you, standing between your swaying legs as he tried to meet your gaze - but you refused to acknowledge his presence. 
“Look at me,” he ordered, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze on him. 
“No,” you said, closing your eyes. 
He let out an honest chuckle at your stubbornness, and if you had been able to see him, you would’ve noticed his eyes sparkle with affection. “Look at me,” he said again, much softer this time as his thumbs wiped away your tears. 
You let out a resigned breath, slowly looking up at him. 
“There she is,” he cooed, a small smile growing on his face. “Hey, darlin’.” 
“Hi,” you replied solemnly, your face scrunching ever so slightly in confusion over the interaction.
He didn’t speak for a while. Instead he just stood there, staring at you with your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell to say next. 
“Look, just- stop crying, alright?” he said awkwardly, almost nervously. 
“Is that your idea of being comforting?” you asked dejectedly, almost laughing in disbelief. 
His grip on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, before loosening again. “You and I both know that offering comfort isn’t my thing.” 
“You could at least try,” you muttered snidely. “I’m tired of being the only one of us who tries.” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped, letting you go and taking a step back in order to glare at you. 
You scoffed, frustratingly swiping away angry tears that began to stream down your face. “It doesn’t matter.” 
A heavy silence blanketed the two of you, and you picked up your mug to idly sip at it once more as he stared you down. He suddenly let out a frustrated huff, swearing and muttering under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed his glass. With disbelieving eyes, you watched as he left the kitchen without a second glance. You weren’t a stranger to arguments with Ben, but this time, it felt different.
You stayed where you were perched, silently finishing your coffee and trying to make sense of everything that happened. You worked yourself back up into another frenzy as you thought everything over, and by the time your mug was empty you slammed it onto the counter with so much force you were surprised it didn’t break. Hopping off the counter, you began to stumble your way to your bedroom while angrily grumbling to yourself. A new inferno was set alight within you when along the way you came across Ben, nonchalantly lounging in the den as if nothing ever even happened. 
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that inside?” you snapped, watching in growing contemptment as he merely glanced in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere, smoke billowing over his face.  
“Tell you what, princess,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the joint he held. “I’ll stop smokin’ inside, as soon as you start payin’ for this fucking place.”
Without so much as giving it a second thought, you marched over to him and ripped the joint from his hands. He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with curiosity, a smirk already forming on his lips.
“I said,” you seethed, grabbing the ashtray from the side table as you stared him down. “Stop.”
He stayed silent, watching as you crushed the joint in the tray before tossing it back on the table with a clang. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back an amused grin before he steeled himself. 
“I’ll go ahead and give you ten seconds to leave,” he announced calmly, though you knew him well enough by now to notice the hint of warning in his tone. 
“Or what?” you challenged, stubbornly crossing your arms. 
Normally, you knew when to stop trying to push his buttons, but you had just enough alcohol still coursing through you to keep on going this time. 
He leaned forward, his presence completely imposing despite the fact he was sitting and you were standing over him. “Do you really want to find out?”
You shifted nervously as you took in his expression, and you knew he was both pissed off and annoyed; then again, it was rare that he wasn’t. 
“Whatever,” you finally muttered, turning away to leave. 
It wasn’t due to you being afraid of him - yes, he was intimidating as all hell, but he had never once actually physically hurt you. Despite the many times the urge struck him, and no matter how much he despised it, he quickly learned that you’re the one person he could never lay a harmful hand on. No, you simply left because you were growing exhausted over this whole night, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. 
“Thought so,” he grumbled behind your back, snickering as you momentarily stopped in your tracks. 
“Oh, just go to hell, Benjamin!” you exclaimed, whipping the closest thing you could grab towards his head. 
He caught it easily, laughing heartily when he realized what it was. “Thanks, doll. This is just what I needed,” he teased with a grin, rattling the pill bottle as he held it in the air for you to see. “It’s the only way I can fuckin’ put up with you.”
You stared at him carefully, and you could tell just by the look in his eyes that he only said it to get another rise out of you, but you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip trembled as you fought back more tears. 
His face instantly fell as he noticed your reaction, and while it was his intention, he instantly regretted it. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the bottle aside and stood up. 
“What are you-” you began to ask as he made his way over to you, but he cut you off. 
“Just shut up for once,” he muttered, a trace of a lighthearted chuckle in his voice as he shook his head. 
You opened your mouth to fire off more insults when he shocked all the words out of your vocabulary by wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and even though you felt insurmountable anger towards him, you quickly found yourself melting into his touch, your arms tightening around his torso. A few moments passed by before he let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern along your back; a gentleness neither of you knew he was even capable of. 
“Look, I-... I didn’t… mean it,” he finally said. His tone was tight and awkward, and you knew it was a near impossible thing for him to actually admit. Honestly, hearing those words from him was nothing short of a miracle. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly, knowing this was the closest you would ever get to an apology from him. 
“How about we get you to bed, huh?” he asked lightly, trying to diffuse the situation. 
“Yeah,” you said, pulling away from him. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
You quickly left before he could respond, making it to your bedroom and locking yourself away in the bathroom to get ready. You took your time, carefully scrubbing away all the traces of the club, and the rest of the night, that you could before slipping into your night clothes. 
The first thing your bleary eyes noticed when you reentered your bedroom was Ben, paused in the middle of your room with a glass of water in his hand. 
“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, rubbing at your tired eyes. 
He let out a heavy exhale, looking at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Was just… bringing this to leave for you."
“Thanks,” you replied awkwardly, meeting him halfway to take the glass from him.
He stared at you for a moment, watching as you made your way to the bed and under the covers. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what. 
“I’ve been trying, you know,” he suddenly grumbled, unable to take the tense silence any longer. 
“What?” you wondered aloud, glancing over at him. 
His face was scrunched in concentration as he stared at something straight ahead, unable to bring himself to meet your gaze. “With you. To be… I don’t know… better.”
His words took you by surprise, and you felt a little guilty for making him think you never noticed. “I know that,” you admitted softly. 
“I don’t think you do,” he quipped, his voice more aggressive than he meant it to be. “You bother me all the fucking time.” 
“You know-” you began to argue, anger starting to simmer deep within your bones again. 
“Stop,” he all but growled, holding up a hand. “Just fucking listen for once.”
You glowered at him, folding your arms as you sank further under the covers, as if seeking some kind of protection, while waiting for him to continue. 
It took him a while to speak up again, and you almost thought he’d never continue, but he hesitantly explained himself. “You bother me… because you make me different.” 
“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively. 
“I don’t know,” he admitted, chuckling humourlessly. “I’m a dick. I don’t care that I’m a dick. But you- I’m around you, and I want to be less…” he trailed off with a sigh, unsure of how to go on. 
“Less dickish?” you offered, fighting off a smile. 
“Yeah,” he agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”
You hummed thoughtfully, thinking over your response. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly send me running for the hills, Ben.”
“I know that,” he said passively. “I just… I don’t know. Don’t think that I don’t try.”
He finally turned to look at you, and you could see the pleading in his eyes; the hurt. You sighed in defeat, sitting up and gesturing for him to take up the space beside you. He hesitated, raising a brow in contemplation before making his way over. You peeled back the covers for him, and he carefully slid in; cautious, as though he thought it was a trap. 
Neither of you were sure what to do next, and after a few minutes of awkward silence, you laid down to settle in for some sleep. Ben followed suit, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close; you instinctively nestled against him, relishing in the warmth he provided.  
“I hope you don’t think I’m drunk enough to forget that you were actually sweet tonight,” you said suddenly, your voice a playful whisper. 
He let out a chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek and forcing a small giggle from you. 
“Just don’t expect it all the time,” he declared, a playful undertone in his voice as well. “I’m mostly sour.” 
Though despite his declaration, his grip tightened to pull you in a little closer. 
“Well,” you said, closing your eyes and relaxing against him. “Sweet and sour does happen to be my favourite combination.” 
“And thank Christ for that,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. 
You smiled to yourself, hearing his words despite them sounding far away. You had a fleeting intent to respond, but your mind grew too heavy, and you quickly fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head - though, not before you felt him placing a lingering kiss to your hairline, paired with a murmured goodnight, sweetheart.
tagging: @roseblue373
1K notes · View notes
bokutosbabe · 4 months ago
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Now I'm Covered In You
(bllk boys as boyfriends)
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a / n — thought making another post in this form would be fun, so i hope you enjoy!
content — bllk characters x reader, gn! reader, pet names used in a few parts, sadly canon otoya i fear, misspelled words are there for a reason i swear, cheater! otoya and oliver, some characters repeated, lmk if i missed anything!
synopsis — bllk boys and what type of boyfriend they'd be
✿.。. “ how's one to know? ” .。.✿
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—The Romantic One
is always planning surprises for you, and i mean always. there's not a single week where you aren't being taken on 'adventures' that always lead you to a different restaurant.
what's the point in having all this money and not spending it on you?
they are constantly writing you love letters and poems. well, they try to anyway. they're not the best with their words and with many spelling mistakes, rather liking to show with actions, but they tried for you.
usually their poems end up something like this
' roses are red
so is my heart
my darling
my deer
my sweet buttercup
you taste just like a
tasty soda pop '
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ISAGI YOICHI, shido ryusei, jyubei aryu, ALEXIS NESS
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— The Player
you know the famous saying, "how you get them is how you lose them?" yeah that's exactly how this relationship is.
you'd been one of their many side quests while they had a relationship going on. eventually after they'd ended said relationship, they'd chose you as their next partner.
they do spoil you with many gifts, mostly after you catch them cheating on you for the umpteenth time, but you stayed because they 'loved you'
sure they told you they loved you, but that wasn't really the case when they'd broken up with you because you were 'boring' them.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ OTOYA EITA, oliver aiku
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— The Protector
is constantly worrying about you and is looking out for your safety.
with them being this 'big bad' soccer player, many people refuses to even look you in the eyes when you were with them. but if someone dared to hit on you when they walk off for a second? please pray for them.
some guy could be asking you for directions and he'd come up behind you and wrap an arm around you without even uttering a word. you didn't have to look at them to know the look they were giving the man was nothing but deadly.
some may call it controlling, but you knew them, they just wanted to keep you safe from all these men.
you had him, who else would you need?
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, rin itoshi, SHOEI BARO, tabito karasu
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— The Funny (insane) One
is constantly making jokes- some that aren't funny - but you laugh anyways.
everyone always asks you how your relationship is doing so well, and the answer is always, " i don't know," because you genuinely don't. yes, the two of you get into arguments, and sometimes the two of you get heated enough to have to take time apart from each other, but you always come back together.
how?
because they always forget what the fight was even about and come back into your space to show you some cat meme they believe you would like.
and the two of you laugh until you feel better again.
maybe you don't know how your relationship is so healthy, but you know why you're happy.
because they take the time to make you laugh.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ BACHIRA MEGURU, RYUSEI SHIDO, gin gagamaru, seishiro nagi
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— The Traditional One
dates. Dates. DATES!!
they took you on soooo many dates before officially asking you to be their partner.
they definitely give the vibes of "my mom taught me i needed to..."
just the best gentleman!
you need to step over a puddle? they're putting their jacket down over it for you (it wasn't necessary, but they insisted on it)
you talked about wanting to see a movie once? he's already bought the tickets.
if you get married? he's insisting you stay home
" a pretty face like you doesn't need to work, i'll provide us everything." in his words
will do anything for you, really.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ YUKIMIYA KENYU, michael kaiser (pls ignore the mom part), REO MIKAGE, oliver aiku (again)
✿.。. “ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bone ” .。.✿
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likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!
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papaya-twinks · 2 months ago
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Hiii!!! Love your work, everything I’ve read so far - 10/10, so good!
I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a Lando smut where his gf is obsessed with his neck & she loves kissing it & touching it & she’s not allowed to leave marks on him only his chest / shoulders for obvi reasons but he gives in and lets her leave like one faint little mark just for her satisfaction but PR noticed it & kinda counselled him on his sex life do’s and don’ts???
Warnings: mentions of sex, love bites (I hate the word hickey)
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
“Lando,” you groaned, sitting on your boyfriend’s lap as he rolled his eyes. “PR would kill me,” he said, a huff on his lips as you whined again. “It’ll be small,” you said, trying to reason. “Fine,” he groaned, having had enough of your whining.
It was a mistake. You hadn’t exactly meant to latch onto Lando’s neck and suck the sensitive skin on his collarbone. It was just hard not to, you know? What with his stupidly gorgeous body, and huge biceps and just…wow. He was hot. 
“I didn’t do anything!” Lando said as he walked into the PR office, staring at the two women standing there in annoyance, as well as Zak. “I swear, the power pot was Oscar, not me!”. 
Zak shook his head at his driver in bewilderment, rolling his eyes as he raked over Lando before landing on his neck. 
Shit. 
“I fell…” Lando started weakly, trying to come up with how the hell he could possibly have ended up faling so his neck hit something. “In that case, you can sit out the next race and we can have. Wreder el Zak said sarcastically.
“No, no, okay, fine! Y/N just wanted to do it, okay?” he grumbled. “Lando, for the last time, you can’t have love bites, or-,” the woman started. “I know, I know, I just wanted her to be happy!”. 
“Oh shush,” Lando said, as you looked up, watching him walk into the room. “I didn’t say anything,” you said as he mumbled under his breath, before placing a letter-like paper onto your lap. “This is your fault,” he said with a huff. 
Lando, please don’t come to work with: 
hickeys/love bites 
just bites in general 
bruises that look suspicious 
kiss marks on your face/anywhere 
lip gloss smeared across your face 
Thanks, and please keep the above in the bedroom, Zak and the team. 
“They gave me a damn cookie with it as well!” he said with a groan, simultaneously taking a bite out of his cookie sadly. He’d be losing that to you in a few seconds anyways. 
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sagesskies · 10 months ago
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been reading a lot of qt bl recently, and this idea struck me:
imagine you've just transmigrated into a world where you're the second male lead's best friend, when him and the fl enter a rough patch in their relationship because seriously, that guy flirts with way too many girls despite being in a committed relationship, and this time the fl has had enough and breaks up with him.
the 2nd male lead just has a downward spiral, because he was super dependent on the fl, and you, doing your job as his best friend, give him words of encouragement, as you were instructed by the system. but when he, unexpectedly, asks you to do more than give him advice, and instead help him in the direct process of fixing their relationship, you can't exactly say no when he's asking you so pitifully with tears in his eyes.
so, you help him, concocting schemes to win the fl over, sabotage the 1st male lead, and the like. this is way more than the original best friend did, where he just said some encouraging words and then proceeded to dip out of the plot till the emotional climax where he gets hit by a car and the female lead and 2nd male lead supposedly "make up" and "date again" at least, till the 1st male lead wins her back over.
you're able to actually get closer to him as well, past the shallow mask that all humans don, and get to know him as more than just 'a playboy with unhealthy attachment issues'
you learn that he likes to play the guitar and sing, that he cries when watching romance movies, that his favorite color is purple, that he dreams of making a career out of his music, and that nobody ever believes he can.
but when you place your arm around his shoulder, and look deep into eyes and tell him that you do, you believe in him, you see the way that his eyes widen in surprise, and how tears start to well up in his eyes, but completely miss the way his cheeks start to redden.
you actually miss a lot of things. how he always remembers your coffee order, how he knows the way you like your eggs made, how he remembers your favorite show and movie, and knows your handwriting by how you write your m's.
you also miss how he wraps his arm around your waist, drapes his jacket over you when you get cold, and likes to loop his arms around your shoulders and cling to you like a koala does to a tree.
what you do notice is how he's stopped talking about the female lead as much, how he only asks you how you're doing, invites you out not to plan something but to instead just hang like friends would, and when you bring up how the female lead has started dating the 1st ml he just blinks, and then says "Okay, good for them," like he wasn't bemoaning how close they were only three months ago.
and what you are forced to see is that the only person he's feeling possessive over is you. he's always texting you, asking where you are, who you're with, and what you're doing. he's glaring at anybody who even breathes in your direction, and one time your friends told you he threatened them to leave you alone.
slowly, you start to distance yourself from him. you decline his offers to hang out, you avoid him on campus, and have even gone so far as to mute his notifications because he's been sending you so many messages.
the system is alerting you of his unnatural behavior, and you tell it that you're very aware, and trying your best to get the story back on track. but by god, is he making this so hard.
it all comes to a head when you hear pounding at your front door, the sound muffled by the heavy downpour of rain, and when you open it you're, sadly, not surprised to see that it's the 2nd male lead, clothes soaked and sobbing, he's telling you he misses you. that he doesn't know why you're avoiding him, but whatever he did he's sorry for it.
"Just don't ignore me, please [Name]," he whines, "If you do, I might die!"
how will you get yourself out of this mess now?
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melancholymetropolis · 3 months ago
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“Lord have mercy,” the plump woman clenched the couch cushion tighter. “Logan. . . Please. . .”
Seated on the floor between her separated thighs and bunched up sundress was a man pulling her panties to the side. The wolverine’s hot mouth fanned the moist folds of her glistening cunt causing the woman to shiver. His deep brown eyes flickered up to hers, a question in his gaze. The woman took her bottom lip between her teeth and gave the older gentleman a slow nod. Every rational thought had drifted away the moment Logan captured her lips in a heated kiss.
To think it all started with a pyrex dish filled with homemade lasagna.
As a woman born and raised in North Carolina, Y/N L/N knew a thing or two about Southern Hospitality. She has distinct memories of her mom baking muffins for the new families in the neighborhood and offering juice boxes to any child playing in the sweltering heat. She was early for every council meeting, funeral and church picnic there was. 
Y/N's mama was the kind to spread love everywhere she went and managed to wear down even the grumpiest assholes there ever were.
Sadly, Y/N didn't have that gift.
At least she thought she didn't.
Logan Howlet was the grumpiest man she'd ever met. He didn't speak to anyone, always kept his head down and pretended not to hear the crappy things people said about him. He frequented the liquor stor as if it were a second job, but never smelled like liquor somehow. 
He had all but slammed the door in Y/N’s face when she offered him the glass dish. The younger woman thanked the heavens his roommate, Wade, swooped in to rescue the tilting dish from crashing on the patio floor.
The man's dripping tongue slid from her oozing center to her aching bud. The plump woman groaned loudly from the action and leaned further onto the arm of the couch. With one leg thrown over his shoulder and the other attempting to keep her balance, Y/N realized how obscure the position— fuck it through whole situation was.
One minute she was at the door, dropping off Wade's monthly pan of lasagna and the next Logan was pushing her against the kitchen counters, kissing her silly. He didn't bother ripping her dress off completely. Just broke a few buttons to gain access to her heavy breasts. One of his hands was gently squeezing the mound as his tongue tapped at her bud. 
The soft muscle swirled around her clit before the lips latched onto it. The older man sucked on the bud tenderly, whilst gripping her thigh so tightly she was sure it would leave bruises the next day. The sounds coming from her lips didn't feel light her own as the ripples of pleasure moved along her nerves like dancers. The plump woman took her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched his move against her womanhood. The salt and pepper hair atop his head nestled between her brown skin was something out of a dream. The sounds of his throaty groans as his sucked her cunt had turned her brain to goo and somehow made her even wetter.
"Take them off," Y/N said, suddenly. "My panties. They're getting in the way."
"Yes, Ma'am! Although, that will be a little hard to do considering Wolfy's posi--- oh shit! You absolutely weren't talking to me like at all," an annoying familiar voice sounds causing us to freeze in place. "But, I wish you would start to because I am about to bust just----"
"Either get the fuck out or come over here and put that mouth to use," Logan snapped, rising to his feet and staring pointedly at Wade. "Because I do not have the time for your bullshit today."
"I'll take option numero dos, Alex," the taller gentleman practically skipped to the couch. "If it is okay with the lady?"
"I'm. . . uh. . . I'm fine with it?"
-------------------------
this scene has been stuck in my head since I seen the film last weekend.
fun fact: I used to be a MASSIVE Marvel fan before the pandemic and secretly wrote Steve Rogers fics.
if you want a full piece, comment or send an ask.
Been thinking of writing some throuple stories. Thoughts?
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me-writes-prompts · 11 months ago
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:-"You left me. I have nothing to say now." Reuniting lovers angst prompts-:
(Umm yes? Obviously. You want angst. I'm giving you angst. Enjoy!!!!AHHHHHHHH I LOVE THESEEEEE😩😩)
By @me-writes-prompts
"Good to see you again, [surname]." (NOT THEIR GIVEN NAME OR THE NICKNAME THEY USED TO CALL THEM BUT THE DAMN SURNAME, SHIT'S ABOUT TO GET REAL)
“You know, you could’ve at least said a last goodbye.” They say accompanied by a sad humorless chuckle.
“Oh, hi. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
When they leave you and your friend’s the one who supported you. So, when they are back, your friend gets protective of you.
“Did you really think we could rebuild what we had? Rebuild us?”
"I need time to adjust to your existence again."
Those longing stares but not being able to do anything about it, because you don't want to repeat the same mistakes
Telling them to leave you alone, even though you just want to be in their arms
When they smile sadly at you, and you just have to physically restrain yourself from wanting to kiss them
"I'm sorry, I-" "Isn't it a little late for an apology?"
"We could've worked out, if only you didn't act like a jerk and left me."
"Please, I want to make up for what I did in the past. Just please."
"Can we...be more than this? I was an idiot for leaving you, but now I want to make this right. Make us right."
"It feels like...like I'm here with you, but I'm also not here because my present-self is still haunted by my past self, past you, past us."
Them trying to do everything and anything to make it up to you
"I need time, okay? I can't do this right now."
"You should've at least told me why you thought I was better without you. But, no, you just left, like I didn't matter to you. Like, it was only you that needed to make decisions for both of us."
"It's not fair. You're not fair. You can't just come back in my life and expect me to get all lovey-dovey with you. That's not how it works, that's not how life works."
Those accidental touches that have you flinching because it's just been so long since you've touched them. OR you crave touching them more.
"I was a fool for leaving you. But I hope this fool can get a second chance to love." They say with a sad smile, trying to hold in their tears/or maybe full on sobbing.
"It was a misunderstanding, and I get it now. I'm sorry, I should've talked to you." "A single sorry can't make it up, [name]." "I know, and I'm willing to do everything to earn your forgiveness."
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captainsophiestark · 5 months ago
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Head of the Family
Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Anthony and his wife are moments away from leaving for their wedding anniversary second-honeymoon, when the demands of the family threaten to delay their departure significantly.
Word Count: 2,446
Category: Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I smiled, already pushing open the door to my husband's office even as I knocked. We were due to leave for a month long anniversary trip together, and I'd just finished securing the last of our preparations. Now, the final step was rounding up Anthony from his duties as Viscount.
If it had been up to him, I knew he would've thrown every last piece of paper in the trash if it meant leaving with me a moment sooner for our trip. But most of his family relied on him to run the estate for all their wellbeing, and he had to make sure things would stay in order even while we were away. When I stepped through into the room from the hallway, I found him leaning over a stack of papers on his desk, one hand tangled in his hair and the other scribbling away. He didn't even look up as I entered the room.
"Apologies, my love," he mumbled, still writing as I shut the door gently behind me and crossed the room to his desk. "I am almost done, and then we will be free to shut out the world once again and enjoy our time, just the two of us, however we like."
"I truly cannot wait," I replied, a devilish smirk pulling at the corner of my mouth as I settled in to perch on the edge of his desk. "Is there anything I can do to help speed along the process?"
"I wish, but sadly there is not. Fortunately for both of us, this is my last document to complete, and once it is done we will be free to leave."
As if Anthony's words had summoned her from the ether, as soon as he'd finished speaking, a knock came at the door to his study. A moment later, without waiting for a response from Anthony or myself, Eloise pushed open the door and stepped inside.
"Oh good, you are both here," she said, her shoulders noticably relaxing when she caught sight of me. Anthony paused his writing to close his eyes and sigh as Eloise crossed the room and plopped into one of the chairs directly before Anthony's desk. I fought a smile. "I have a... slight situation, which I need to make you aware of."
I bit the inside of my lip to hold back a laugh or a sigh, although I wasn't sure which my body would've manifested. I adored Eloise, but in this family, 'situations' most often meant 'boarderline scandal', and I had a bad feeling whatever Eloise's situation would entail may delay Anthony and I's departure much longer than either of us wanted.
"What is it, Eloise?" I asked after getting a hold of myself, making a point of keeping my tone even and patient. She glanced nervously from me to Anthony, who had resumed work on the document before him.
"I need both of your attention, actually," she said, a slight edge of irritation in her voice directed at her brother. "That is, if it isn't too much trouble."
Anthony let out a sigh, the duration as long as it took for him to finish writing his last notes on the last document standing between us and our vacation. He set it aside, then finally turned his attention to his sister.
"What is it, Eloise?"
"I may have... a bit of a problem on my hands." I raised an eyebrow, and I could see Anthony working his jaw. Eloise glanced between us, and I tried to keep an open expression on my face to encourage her. It must have worked, because after a moment, she continued. "It seems there is a Lord who took my jokes about marriage more seiously than I intended. I think... he may be coming to you to ask for my hand very soon, and you must tell him no."
"Eloise-"
Anthony barely managed to get his sister's name out before the door to the study came swinging open again, this time revealing Francesca striding through the door.
"Oh, I am glad I caught the both of you before you departed for your trip," she said, looking to me and Anthony before her eyes at last fell on Eloise, and she frowned. "Is this not a good time?"
"What's one more?" said Anthony with a tight smile. I hid a laugh behind my hand. Anthony was always the dutiful older brother, although he wasn't always good at hiding his occasional irritation with the role. Fortunately, his sisters either didn't notice or didn't care.
"I need to speak with you about wedding arrangements, Anthony," said Francesca, taking a seat next to Eloise. "Especially since the two of you will be gone for so long, I do not want to leave all the planning to the last minute if I can avoid it."
"Alright, well-"
This time, an almost cacophanous noise from the hallway served as the interruption. As if they'd known we were gathering, and that Anthony and I were almost free of our responsibilities, the remaining four Bridgerton children living in the house appeared, practically wrestling through the door and paired off in arguments. Hyacinth made it to us first, Colin trailing right behind her, neither of them giving their seated sisters a second glance as they addressed Anthony.
"Colin intends to marry someone!" Hyacinth cried over the noise of the rest of us. "We made a bet that if I bested him at pall-mall, he would tell me who, but now he is refusing-"
"Hyacinth, enough!" Colin broke in, shouting over his sister to no avail.
"He is going to have to tell you at some point anyway, Anthony, so it may as well be now so as to honor the terms of our bet-"
"I am not required to tell you or anyone else in this family until I desire to, Hyacinth-"
"Except that you made a bet, Colin, and are now being a sore loser."
Anthony sighed, his attention turning to the last pair, Benedict and Gregory, while Hyacinth and Colin continued to bicker before him. I reached out and gently rested a hand on his shoulder, although I doubted it did much to help.
"I told Benedict I want to learn what it takes to run a household like this," Gregory said, taking Anthony's attention as his cue to start explaining.
"And I told him to come ask you," Benedict said, flopping comfortable into a chair to one side of the room, closer to me. He leaned back, getting comfortable as he watched the scene playing out before him, not reacting to Gregory's scowl.
"But I want to learn sooner rather than later, so it has to be him!" Gregory continued, giving Benedict another stink eye. "He's going to be taking care of things while you're gone, and with the two of you, who knows how long that's going to be!"
I stifled a laugh as Gregory gestured to Anthony and I. He was right, we did have a tendancy to extend our trips beyond their planned length, in the name of spending more time just the two of us.
Anthony took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then snapped back to attention with a huffy sigh.
"Alright, Gregory-"
"What? Gregory? I was here first, and I assure you my issue is more pressing," Eloise broke in. Anthony turned to her with a clenched jaw.
"Fine, Eloise, then tell me-"
"Hyacinth, really! That is unladylike language! Anthony, did you hear what she just called me?"
"I meant it, and I will say it again if I must, Colin!"
Anthony growled, ripping his attention from Eloise to the next sibling in line. Everyone continued to talk over each other, the noise in the room rising as rapidly as Anthony's frustration. Normally, I would've been proud of him for taking the calmer, more patient approach with his siblings, but clearly that wasn't going to work in this case.
I let the chaos continue for another few moments while I counted to ten in my head. When it showed no signs of slowing down, and in fact seemed to be spiralling even more out of control, I put my fingers in my mouth and let out a long, earsplitting whistle that I normally reserved for getting someone's attention a long way off in the vast countryside outdoors.
Everyone in the room stopped mid-sentence and whirled around to look at me with wide eyes. I looked right back, head high and one eyebrow raised.
"That is quite enough, from all of you," I said, my tone at a normal level and much calmer than any of the Bridgerton siblings. "First of all, Francesca, I'm afraid your wedding plans will have to wait until we return. Think about them and plan what you can, and I promise Anthony and I will both make time to go over everything with you the minute we are back in this house."
Francesca nodded and gave me a small smile.
"That works just fine. I did not realize how... pressed upon by my other siblings you would be in the final moments before you leave."
That got a round of insulted outbursts, but they all quieted down again and returned their attention to me when I pointedly cleared my throat. Francesca had always loved me for my unique ability to at least temporarily usher in peace in the household.
I turned my attention to Benedict, with slightly narrowed eyes.
"You," I said, letting the word hang in the air for a moment. Benedict had the decency to look concerned. "You are going to let Gregory shadow you. He wants to learn, so let him. It won't hurt you any, and if he feels he still has more to learn when we return, then Anthony can take him."
Benedict huffed and crossed his arms, so I kept my stare on him for a few long moments. While it wouldn't matter much whether he followed through on our promise while we were gone, for all our sakes I didn't want to come home to find they'd been fighting and having issues the entire time Anthony and I had been away. After a moment, Benedict rolled his eyes, but also nodded, which was enough to satisfy me.
"Good. Then Hyacinth, Colin does not have to tell you anything about whom he is intending to pursue if he does not want to. And, like the rest of us, we cannot do more than simply guess."
Colin crossed his arms and smiled, looking quite satisfied with himself, but I maintained significant eye contact with Hyacinth. So far, she had correctly guessed the affections of all of her siblings before any of the siblings in question were ready to admit those affections, even to themselves. With Colin especially, I knew she had an idea who he was intending to pursue, and she didn't need his confirmation to be confident in being correct. We'd all seen how he'd been acting around Penelope lately.
The corner of Hyacinth's mouth quirked up in a quick smile, and she gave me a nod. I returned the gesture, then turned at last to Eloise.
"Finally, Eloise. Since when do you need your brother to empower you to turn a man down? You know you have our full support, with whomever you decide to reject or accept."
Eloise raised an eyebrow and cut her stare towards Anthony. I heard him sigh beside me, but when I turned to him, he nodded his agreement with my statement, so I continued.
"El, if this man has truly gotten it in his head to marry you and you do not feel the same, simply tell him so. If he proposes, turn him down, knowing full well that your family stands behind you. Since when have you needed your brother to speak your mind for you?"
Eloise scoffed and scowled, then stood and squared her shoulders. She shot an especially strong glare at Anthony as she spoke.
"I don't."
Anthony flung his hands out at the unwarranted hostility directed his way, but Eloise and I ignored him.
"You are absolutely right you don't. If you need our help you will have it, Eloise, as you always have our support. But I know you, and I know you are capabale of telling this man to leave you alone without help. And I think you may even enjoy it."
The corner of Eloise's mouth turned up again, more noticably this time, and she nodded. With all the siblings' various issues sorted, they were much calmer, nodding their thanks in my direction and largely ignoring poor Anthony as they filed out the way they'd come in with much less chaos. Once the door to the study closed behind the last of them, I turned to my husband with a smile. The intensity of his stare almost made me melt on the spot.
"Have I told you lately that you are, beyond a doubt, the perfect woman?"
I laughed, leaning into Anthony as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his lap. His hand found its way to the back of my neck, gently pulling me into a heated kiss. I let myself be swept away with him for a few moments, indulging in the kiss and resting my hands on his chest, but pulled away with a laugh as Anthony's hands started wandering places inappropriate for his office, when his siblings had just barged in a moment ago.
Anthony frowned and let out a dissatisfied grunt, attempting to tug me back into his chest, but I didn't let him.
"Anthony, we are about to leave for our travels together, celebrating our time as husband and wife. We will have plenty of opportunity to continue this somewhere we cannot be interrupted by your family."
"Damn them," Anthony breathed, leaning forward to match my movement. "I only care about you."
"Hmm, and I you, my love. But consider this: every additional moment we delay our departure in this house, is another moment one of your siblings may return with a new problem for us to address."
Anthony paused, considering my words for a moment. Then, he sprang up, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me with him.
"You make an excellent point. I think it is time for us to away, Mrs. Bridgerton. We can finish our other business in the carriage on our way out of town."
I laughed as Anthony pulled me after him from the room, leaving all the work and pressure that came with being Viscount in the office behind us. His family, despite their earlier demonstration, could manage perfectly well without us, at least for a time. And we'd each more than earned a break for just the two of us. As always, everything here would be waiting for us when we returned.
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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen
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