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fuwahua · 18 days ago
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Joke
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ Tktober Day 24: Joke
Tags: Alberose implied (Albedo/Sucrose), crush, terrible dad jokes
“Erm… what did the thermometer say to the graduated cylinder?”
“What?”
“You may have graduated but… but… I’ve got… m-many degrees!”
“Ah, haha.”
“Mister Albedo, please take this seriously!”
Albedo offers her a (genuine!) apologetic smile, the kinds of which that would send her heart aflutter any other day if not for the multitude of fake smiles and laughs he’d offered her a second ago. Sucrose smothers her face in her hands, embarrassed red burning through her parted fingertips.
She was never one for humor, not that she hated dad jokes or anything of the like! But they didn’t evoke any laughter (or wincing, as Timeaus was often to do) from her. Albedo, however, seemed to have awakened an adoration for jokes after the visit of Collei and her friends to Mondstadt; in the weeks since their leaving, Albedo had bought 3 joke books from Margarite, attended the Cat’s Parlor’s open mic night (and watched Six Finger Jose tell knock knock jokes for 15 minutes before someone shoved him offstage), and discovered Glory was immensely clever at coming up with dad humor. It was nice to see him smiling so often now and Sucrose had. Um.
She wanted to be a part of it. A reason he smiled.
“You’re doing great, Sucrose.”
“I’m doing terribly.” Sucrose moans, shaking her head. What had she been thinking of when signing up for next week’s open mic?! A whole fifteen minutes, dedicate to just her, her of all people, telling jokes? Dad jokes, at that? “Mister Albedo, why didn’t you stop me?”
“You’re doing better than you think, I promise.”
“But you’re not laughing!”
“I was.”
“You were fake laughing.” Her ears droop as she speaks, squeezing her eyes tight as images of Albedo’s reaction to Cyno’s jokes in comparison to hers flash through her memory. In comparison to that reaction, hers was… lacking. “I’m truly no good at this, really.”
“Sucrose, can you raise your arms for me?”
She blinks, startled at the sudden request. Still, she does, nodding to Albedo. “U-um, yes!”
He smiles, reassuring. “Can you close your eyes? And don’t open them, please.”
“Of course! I will do just thahahahat?! M-misteheher AlbehehEHEHEDO?!”
Sucrose flinches, eyes reflexively opening by surprise as fingers dig into her armpits. Albedo’s gaze meets hers, lips quirked, and her cheeks flush red at her blatant inability to follow the instructions. Her eyes snap shut as she squirms, arms trembling. “W-whahahaat?”
“We’re conducting an experiment.” Are they? On her? She yelps as he flares his fingers wide and then rubs the center of her underarms with his thumb, crooking deep into the groove. It tickles, relentlessly, and she squirms.
“Do you feel that?”
Of course she does! She nods, gritting her teeth before another bout of giggles force them open, shaking her head as Albedo’s hand shifts to her sides. Oh no, oh no! “I dohahaha! W-whehehehy?”
“You’re laughing, correct?”
“YehehehEHEHEHES!”
“Perfect. Hold just like that for me, please.”
Does she have a choice? Sucrose gasps as the hands travel her upper body, scratching at her stomach, her waist, even skirting over to the small of her back where she bounces on her toes to unsuccessfully dislodge the hands. They linger there, scratching above where her tail would be if she had one, and she yelps. Albedo hums, almost undetectable beneath the shrill shout of her laughter, and her face burns unmistakenly. “P-PLeahahahIahahase!”
“How does this make you feel?”
“HwahaHAHA?”
Albedo’s breath grazes her ear, and she gasps, quivering, before her arms snap back in a fresh peal of laughter as his hands dart back up to her ribs. “We’re in Mondstadt square. I’m tickling you. You’re laughing. How does this make you feel?”
“I-it fehHEEHEhels,” Sucrose chokes out, shaking her head. Embarrassing, overwhelming, electric? The vision comes to her mind easily—Sara from Good Hunter across the street, eyes on them and her reckless laughter. Timeaus’ quirked lips at the scene and his deliberate scooting over the other side of the Alchemy table to avoid them, focusing on his experiments instead. Herself caught in Albedo’s arms, eyes squeezed tight, and the persistent itching that runs its way through her body with every wriggle of his fingers. That her ribs are more sensitive than her arms and every nudge and bump between them has her gasping, yelping, and that Albedo’s hands are surely stuck there beneath her clamped arms. That her mouth is wide open in wild laughter, improper. And yet—and yet—
“H-HAHAHAPPEHEHEHE! I FEHEHEHEL H-HAHAHAHAPPY!”
“Good.”
The tickling ends as abruptly as it started and Sucrose sags in relief, hands pressed against her aching ribs. Albedo’s hand rests against her back instead and she squeaks, ears flapping in alarm before realizing that his grip is steady, not teasing, as it rights her. “Are you alright?”
“Y-yehehehes?” She flexes her wrists, her feet. No changes, not when she was only tickled for a matter of minutes. Still, her face remains warm, and she swallows. “Um, w-why did you do that?”
Surprise flickers in his gaze before he speaks. “You were worried that I was fake laughing.”
She nods, still confused. “Yes?”
“Think objectively, Sucrose. If this was an experiment we were running, how would we measure what is a fake laugh and a real one? How would we measure the effectiveness of your humor?”
“That—”
“You weren’t laughing before I tickled you, an act that has nothing related to jokes. Does that mean your laugh was fake, then?”
She swallows, the pieces beginning to click. “It… was an instinctual reaction at first.”
He nods. “At first, yes. Yet, when I asked how you felt, your response was happiness. Did fake laughter lead to real laughter? Or was your laughter real from the beginning, even if you didn’t intend on laughing? Sometimes, the line between what’s fake and real isn’t as clear as we’d like to think.”
That… that makes sense. Sucrose ponders as familiar sequences fill her thoughts; even though she wouldn’t volunteer to be tickled, it honestly wasn’t terrible being beneath the hands of the man she liked. And wasn’t that why she’d signed up for the comedy show—out of a desire to make him happy, even if she thought she wouldn’t like it? It was true that Albedo seemed to react differently to Cyno’s jokes than hers, but how much of that memory was real, and how much warped by her own emotions? Rather than focusing on immeasurable factors, it’d be more effective to focus on what was right in front of her.
Like herself, and the man who’d spent his weekend listening to her jokes.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one willing to push herself for the other. She shifts, gaze flicking back to meet his, and Albedo smiles. It’s bright, maybe even brighter than when he laughed for Cyno. She beams.
“I get it!”
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balletfilmss · 11 months ago
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LOVERS LAKE
✸ pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader
✸ synopsis: you & luke escape to the lake and away from counselor duties!
✸ warnings: pre-tlt, established relationship, kissing, me believing whole heartedly that i can fix him
✸ authors’s note: ignoring that it’s literally christmas & this is so summer-coded, charlie bushnell brought back my original series luke obsession so here you go 🙈
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the lake was arguably the best place to be at camp half-blood, even for someone who hated the water and was all but dragged their by somebody else who loved it.
that someone was you, and the somebody else was luke.
that boy loved swimming in the lake like the stars love sitting in the sky, and the only thing that made it better was when you were there with him.
between knowing that fact and the pleading look in his pretty puppy eyes, how could you say no?
so now you and him were in the lake together, on a rare escape from your responsibilities as counselors during rec time. you may or may not have been hiding from your campers by staying hidden by the boathouse that stored the camp’s supply of canoes.
you were clinging onto the wooden dock while your boyfriend swam about, still putting on your angry facade at him after he threw you in the water initially.
was the way he scooped you up in his big strong arms and grinned like a little kid when he jumped in with you absolutely adorable? yes. did that mean you were going to let him get away with it? absolutely not.
pouting with your arms wrapped around the dock leg, you watched as the boy’s head disappeared underwater, not missing the mischievous glint that lingered in his eyes beforehand.
and just as you had expected, a wet head of dark curls popped up just beside you. just to be annoying, he shook his head like some kind of dog and laughed when you scrunched your face up at the flying drops of water.
the little loser laughed at you. now you were definitely mad, and would’ve crossed your arms and harrumphed if you weren’t still holding on to the dock like you’d die if you let go.
“are you ever gonna leave that poor dock be and actually come swim with me?” he asked, batting his pretty long eyelashes like he was pleading for you to do what he asked.
“go away.” you grumbled, looking away from him.
“aw, c’mon sweetheart.” he cooed, his tone teetering between teasing and sincere.
you felt familiar hands wrap around your waist as luke pried you away from the dock, ignoring your words of protest.
“you are literally going to drown me.” you frown as you have no choice but to hold onto him.
look, it wasn’t that you couldn’t swim, it was just that it was going to take one hell of a monster chasing you to make it happen.
“oh my gods, i am going to die.”
you were now out of arm’s reach of the shore, left with nothing but your boyfriend to keep you afloat. dam it.
“would you relax? i’m not gonna let you drown.” he chuckled, smiling at your antics as he kept both you and himself afloat.
“well you pushed me in, so you may as well.” you responded, sticking your chin up in dramatic negligence.
“hey, it was push you in or get caught and have about seventeen campers join us. which would you rather have?”
the first option, obviously, but you weren’t going to tell him that.
instead, you stuck to the silent treatment, which meant luke was left to his last and final resort.
“guess you leave me with no choice then,” he feigned a regretful sigh, even though you both knew he was ecstatic to do what he was thinking.
“wha- no. no no no no!”
luke had let go of your waist for no more than two seconds before you had screamed and clung onto him for dear life, your arms tightly wound around his neck and legs around his waist.
“i’m going to kill you, castellan.” you grumble, unable to see his reaction as your cheek was pressed against his.
there it was again, that gods damned chuckle of his that made your heart do little somersaults.
“love you too.” he said humorously. but when you didn’t reply with the same phrase, it was his turn to pout.
“hey.”
between the pout in his voice and the poke he delivered to your sides, you knew that your inattention had had just the effect you wanted.
this was the dance the two of you had done several times before. he’d annoy you, you’d ignore him and then you would relish in the way he turned into a lost puppy when it lasted for ten seconds too long, proving once again just how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.
“hey. hey. hey.”
he poked you again and again, repeating the same word in hopes that you’d look at him, but you remained relentless.
“i’m not forgiving you that easily.” you insisted, as if your faces weren’t inches away from each other and water wasn’t the only thing between your body and his.
once again, he knew you too well to know there was little truth to your words.
he pressed a kiss to your cheek in hopes to get you to finally turn your head and look at him. again, nothing.
“hey, pretty girl.” he whispered, growing desperate and excruciatingly impatient. “would you at least look at me?”
feeling as though you’d drawn it out rather excessively, you listened and looked at him.
immediately, your lips were captured by his in a sweet kiss, the lake water seeping in between and tainting the flavor.
when he pulled away, luke wore a smirky kind of smile that made you want to kiss him again just to get rid of it and the giddy little feeling it gave you.
“am i forgiven now?”
he was, but instead of saying that, that was when you splashed a wave of water in his pretty little face.
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theangrypomeranian · 2 years ago
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every day YouTube recommends the Stereo Hearts x Zaalima remix to me and every day I am thrown back into Barryl hell ugh don't be fooled I love it lmao
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kasagia · 6 months ago
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Right Hand VI
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You're tired of listening to others and of being afraid of prophecies that don't make sense and that were made up by someone else. Your present belonged only to you. And hell knows, you're going to take your future too. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; I was listening to 'Down Bad' by Taylor and I used quotes from a few of them; TEXT NOT CHECKED - I' barely managed to write it on time' I've just ended it and wanted to post it for you, since you are waiting for it so long; it took me ages but I hope you will like it; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~ Epilogue ~•♤♤♤•~
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Feyd rarely felt pain he didn't like. The years spent on Giedi Prime—or rather, years of enduring his uncle's methods of making him a true Harkonnen, his worthy successor—made Feyd love pain. He found pleasure in it—something he had to learn if he wanted to survive.
But it didn't bring him any satisfaction or pleasure when you pierced his chest with one of his swords. He feels pure pain. Anger, betrayal, and hurt.
He hates the way he falls limply to his knees in front of you. He hates that he still looks at you like you're a saint. He hates that he hopes you'll at least look him in the eyes, as if that would bring him some kind of salvation. He hates how lost he feels now and how he's slowly losing awareness of his surroundings. He hates that even though you stabbed him, all he can do is stare at you, clinging to the sight of you more than to his life.
"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N."
He feels you unhook your poisoned dagger from his arm. Feyd thinks you're doing it to finish him off. Poetically kill him with the weapon he gave you. He closes his eyes and waits for the final stab or throat slit. But nothing like that happens. He doesn't have the strength to turn around and see exactly what you're doing, but your words alone are enough for him to imagine the scene that is happening behind him.
"I may not be a Harkonnen, but I've picked up a few of their habits. If you want an agreement between us, show me your hand." After your words, he can hear a hiss from Atreides when you plunge the dagger into your joined hands, piercing them both through.
Feyd would have laughed mockingly if he hadn't spent all his energy on breathing slowly. He remembered explaining to you how contracts, such as arranged marriages, were sealed on Giedi Prime. The Harkonnens shook hands and pierced them with swords, thus signing a blood pact. This also applied to marriages and other such things. Blood bound them stronger than any words or signatures on paper. He cursed himself for the fact that, seeing your scared face at his words, he withdrew from this idea and decided to make a verbal agreement between you. He should be the one to bind you with his blood, not Atreides.
The steel in his body rubs against his lower ribs, but it does not damage any major organs. He tries to keep the sword in the exact same position you stuck it in, but he feels like he's going to faint from all the pain, the blood, and the fear for you that he feels now.
You made him so weak that even after you stabbed him, all he could think about was your safety and your well-being. Every shaky breath he took, every slow beat of his heart as he fought to stay conscious—it was all for you.
He just hoped like hell that you weren't lying a few moments ago, that this would all turn out to be just one of your games, and that you would soon end Atreides' life. But it's not like that.
"Let this blood be a symbol of our union." Your sweet, dangerous whisper reaches Feyd's ears.
He's raging with powerlessness and anger. That Atreides dog didn't deserve to mix his blood with yours. Only Feyd should be able to do this. Only his black blood should merge with your crimson, staining your joined hands as you swore allegiance to each other. His heart hurts more than the wound you gave him as he imagine how you and this desert rat are now echanging each other's blood.
If he hadn't been placed in such a vulnerable state by you, he would have ripped Atreides' heart out with his bare hands for daring to mix his blood with yours. A cold shiver runs down his spine at the thought of Atreides connecting with you in yet another way. A way Feyd was robbed too many times.
He tries to get up, but he doesn't have enough strength. All he can do is place his hands on the floor, trying to take the weight off his torso. The blade scratching his flesh bothers him much less than the fact that Atreides has the nerve to touch you or that you're blatantly ignoring him while playing whatever game you're playing right now.
"Leave him to me. I want… to repay him for all these years of fulfilling his wishes." The cool, composed tone of your voice that you used many times when the two of you dealt with inconvenient prisoners did nothing to inspire his hope or quench his rage.
You really betrayed him. You, of all people. How stupid and naive he was to believe you. He should have killed you the moment his eyes met yours. You were an intruder. A spy in disguise. His bittersweet end.
The door slams shut behind Atreides. Feyd hears your footsteps, the sand from your soles falling back onto the ground—the same ground where his black, thick blood is now flowing. You walk over to him; if he could focus enough, he would see the toes of your shoes.
You kneel in front of him, gently tugging on his head, causing him to rest on your shoulder. He can smell your blood dripping from your hand. You stain his head with it. Under any other circumstances, he would have appreciated how close you were to him, but now, with the sword rubbing uncomfortably against his insides, your touch doesn't bring any comfort at all. Even your lips pressed against his forehead cannot calm the volcano of emotions boiling inside him. But he is helpless. He is unable to do anything; he is completely surrendered to your grace. It wouldn't bother him a few hours ago. Now he hated it.
"I'm sorry." You whisper, then use the voice on him to tell him to fall asleep. When he drifts off to sleep at your command, he is already planning how he will take revenge on you. And hell knows you're going to pay him for it.
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"He'll be furious." One of your spies comments as she helps you carry Feyd's body out of the sietch.
Inessa was the only Harkonnen woman you could reasonably trust. She's done your dirty work many times, but... never THIS. You somewhat understood her concerns, but currently, when you both had to carry Feyd through the Fremen corridors and go unnoticed, you didn't necessarily approve of it.
"I am aware." You reply, looking around. Inessa and you somehow patched up Feyd's wound. Now you had to either drag him to the surface yourself and hope that someone would find him in the chaos of the fight or leave him with some of his soldiers.
You didn't like any of these ideas. But you had to do what you planned if you wanted to regain your freedom, even if it meant that Feyd would hate you for it for infinity.
"Fucking angry. I'm serious, Y/N." Inessa warns you again. You roll your eyes at her, for a Harkonnen she was very fearful.
You remember how her hands were shaking a few minutes ago as you both stitched up your new Baron. It was a makeshift dressing and still required treatment by a doctor, but it was enough to get Feyd to the ship and back to base. During this time, you will take care of everything here. You hope that by the time he wakes up, you will have finished what you set out to do. Otherwise, you don't see your future well.
"Just get him out of here." You grumble, turning into a side corridor, and encounter Harkonnen soldiers fighting the Fremen as they kill the last of them, their eyes shifting to the two of you. You nod at them. Without a word, they approach you and take Feyd from you. Inessa looks at you, worried.
"What if he wakes up?"
"You stuffed him with painkillers, and I ordered him to sleep. He won't get up until you're back on the ship." The woman sighs and shakes her head, looking at you intently as you speak.
"Y/N. You've had some… creatively stupid ideas, but this one is the worst of them all. He won't give up. You know it. So why are you doing this?" She asks, taking you off guard for a moment.
She was right. You could have returned to the ship with them, gone back to the safety of Giedi Prime, and let Feyd fight Paul alone. You could have let go and stopped participating in a war that wasn't yours. But at what cost? You've been obeying someone all your life. Bene Gesserit. Prophecies. Feyd. It's finally time for you to deal the cards. And you will do it. In your and Feyd's best interests. You just hoped that he could… forgive you, or see the reasoning behind your actions.
"For myself. For my freedom. For us. This is the only way to end the matter of Atreides, Fremen, and Arrakis. The only effective way."
"Don't you know it yet? You will never be free. We women will never enjoy men's freedom. There will always be someone to whom you must submit. You can't change your fate."
"Then I'd rather die trying." You say, turning on your heel. You don't look back to see her reaction to your words. You had too little time.
The burning sensation on your hand only reminded you of running out of it. The dagger that Feyd gave you must have also had an effect on Atreides. You don't know how advanced he is in Bene Gesserit teachings, so you had to hurry before he detected the poison in his body. Or, God forbid, neutralise it.
You wipe your sweating forehead with the sleeve of your hand as your body begins to fight the poison slowly accumulating in your body. The antidote rested safely in a small syringe hidden in the handle of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh. You just had to use it when the time was right.
You hope you will get everything done before you die.
You wander through the corridors without knowing where you are. You just have a feeling in the back of your head about where you should go. Besides, the escaping Harkonnens kind of showed you the way into the sietch.
Your hands are shaking as you slowly approach the main room—the one where the Fremen usually gather for large meetings and in case of an attack. Still, you thank Feyd for forcing you to attend the Harkonenn war meetings. At least now you are more familiar with the location of the Fremen's rooms and methods.
The closer you get to the main hall, the more Fremen women push past you, and you feel a little more confident walking through the crowd with them, confident that they are leading you to your place of harm in case of an attack. Even though the Harkonnen were already retreating from the area, some of them were still fighting the Fremen, who craved the blood on their swords and didn't let them just leave. You can only imagine the Feyd's wrath that they will have to face. His men didn't come... fully armed. Apparently it was supposed to be a quick action—get in and out with you, then launch a full attack and invasion.
You know that once he wakes up and heals up a bit, he's going to paint these halls with blood before he burns them to the ground.
Entering the main room, you immediately take a seat by the wall, watching all the Fremen gathering, carefully looking for Atreides among them. He probably had to make sure they "cleared" the halls from the Harkonnens. It makes you sick to think of them bragging about this as a victory over the Harkonnens. It makes you wish you had a little bomb with you...
"Are you already hiding in the shadows?" You shiver when you hear him whisper in your ear. You haven't learned to recognise his steps yet. They were irregular, different, and hard to detect and remember—as if he were constantly moving through the sand like a feather.
"The quicker I adapt, the better, right?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge. He shakes his head in amusement and watches the Fremen gather with you. It's strange that somehow no one has noticed him yet.
"I'm starting to understand why my cousin kept you so close to him."
"Cousin?" You ask in shock, turning your head towards him so you can look at him. This time he ignores you, not shifting his gaze from the Fremen.
"A little surprise. Maybe we all have a bit of Harkonnen in us after all?" He banters without giving you any of his attention. You snort indignantly, looking at the gathering people again.
"You look tired." You comment, wanting to tease him. You can barely keep yourself from stabbing him with your poisoned dagger a few times. But since he was talking to you so... carelessly, it meant he couldn't detect the poison. Good for you.
"I always am. I will rest when I sit peacefully on the imperial throne."
You would laugh at him if you could. He might easily sit on the emperor's throne, but he wouldn't be able to hold power over all the families for long. Certainly not if you and Feyd had anything to say about it.
Your heart clenches as you remember the moment you stabbed him. You had to. There was no other way to get rid of him long enough for you to take care of everything here. Also, he wouldn't allow you to do that if he knew what you were up to. Besides, if you didn't stab him, Atreides and he would get into a fight. Unfortunately, you weren't that confident in Feyd's abilities. He would be in a state of distraction if your well-being was at stake.
Besides, Atreides' words convinced you of this decision more than anything else.
More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.
If there was anything you could praise about Paul Atreides, it was his cunning. And you were sure that if Atreides was somehow going to defeat Feyd, it would be through intrigue and trickery. And then you weren't ready to save your baron. So you had to use drastic measures to get him out and allow yourself to function fully. You couldn't give Atreides any leverage or advantage over you. You certainly couldn't reveal what a weakness Feyd was to you.
"Hmm… you have to survive first." You answered thoughtfully. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to look at you. His intense, analysing gaze makes you burn as you have to endure his unwanted attention.
"With such a talented Bene Gesserit as MY right hand? I have not the slightest doubt. You proved your loyalty by killing my cousin. I have no doubt that you are capable of great things. However... this sudden change of sides is shocking, I must admit."
"Why? Because I chose something better for myself? It was the same with Feyd. I could either stay among the Bene Gesserit and hope they wouldn't send me to breed with anyone, or I could take matters into my own hands. And I don't like blindly entrusting my fate to someone else, Atreides."
"I see... you look good with independence, Harkonnen witch, but don't forget who you answer to."
"Of course, Fremen messiah." The nickname you give him makes me chuckle. He reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You look carefully at his bandaged hand, which you pierced with a dagger.
You find yourself comparing his hands to Feyd's. Harkonnen's hands were hard, rough, trained from years of using all kinds of weapons. Atrdida's hands were smoother, less stained by effort. Another difference between them was that Feyd would never let anyone bandage the wound you gave him. He would rather wear them proudly until the wound heals itself. You should think it's sick, but years spent by his side have taught you… to appreciate such gestures. Maybe you really had a completely different perception of normality?
Atreides' fingers trace your jaw, caressing it gently. You look into his eyes and immediately see the familiar gleam of audacity in them. He looked at you like you were a prize—a nice thing that he managed to take from his enemy, which he can now put on his bedside table and look at to remember his victory. Under any other circumstances, you would have bitten his fingers off, but unfortunately, you had to behave. But only for a moment longer.
"What do you think you're doing?" An angry, cold female voice echoes behind you. Before you know it, you're being pushed sideways against the wall. A dagger at your throat. You act automatically. You attack a woman, disarm her, and push her against a wall. But before you can put a dagger at her throat yourself, Atreides steps between you.
"What's necessary, Chani. I would suggest you not attack my guest." The woman glares at him, and for a moment, you think she's going to attack him or spit on him. Then her anger shifts to you.
"This Harkonnen witch has killed more of our people than any of them. She should be dead, not taken in as a guest." She growls furiously, giving you a distrustful, mad look. You understand her perfectly. If you were in her place, you would do the same. Only Feyd, unlike Atreides, couldn't stop you from hurting your rival.
"It's not up to you to decide her fate."
Chani gives the two of you one last hateful glare and pushes past Atreides, moving into the crowd, away from the two of you. You look at the woman carefully, analysing her gait and posture. Similar to Atreides. So you found his teacher.
"Your…"
"Concubine." He finishes, thus answering your question. You raise an eyebrow at him in surprise.
"I see."
"Jealous?" This time, you can't help but snort in amusement, giggling at his absurd question.
"I would sonner be jealous of a sandworm than of you. What is bewteen us is just an agreement. Don't forget that, Atreides."
"That's why I like you. Give me a moment. We'll talk later. Don't go anywhere. I will find you."
He puts his hand on your shoulder. You assume he thinks it's a gesture of reassurance, but it's not for you. You anxiously wait for him to move away from you so he can speak to the crowd of Fremen.
You shiver as you briefly make eye contact with Chani, who is standing at the other end of the room. She's still seething with rage. You're not entirely sure why she's so devoted to Atreides, but after thinking about it longer, you realise what her reason is for being so protective over him. You would probably do the same things for Feyd as she did for Paul. However, you would be... more ruthless towards your rival. You wave to the woman, smirking. She looks away from you, focusing her gaze on Atreides.
You study him as well, carefully observing him as he speaks to the Fremen. He is imperious and powerful, but also arrogant and conceited. His overconfidence that he acquired among the Fremen—the belief that he was the chosen one—will lead to his death. You will lead him to death. Otherwise, no one will stand a chance against him. He had one significant thing that could ensure his victory: a huge crowd of people who blindly believed that he would bring them salvation if they obediently followed his every request.
And maybe you would feel sorry for these people and try to help them if your own freedom and future weren't on the line.
You play with the handle of your dagger. You press a small button. A small ampoule with a needle falls into your hand. You hiss, injecting the contents of the ampoule into your arm.
Atreides was right. - You think, listening carefully to the man's speech to the crowd. - More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.
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The faint hum of the ship's engine gives Feyd a clear indication of where he is. He opens his eyes and looks around the room. He's in the bedroom of one of Harkonnen's ships. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looks at his bare chest. He furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise when he sees no wound or bandage—just a tiny, sealed scar in the area where you pierced him with the sword.
"Where are you going?" Your quiet, protesting whisper makes him freeze. After a while, he feels your warm hands on his shoulders as you pull him back into the soft sheets and into your arms. You cuddle up to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Stay. We still have a lot of time before we land on Lankiveil, so you can spend it in bed with your wife. I doubt we'll find a moment of peace for ourselves when our little Na-Baron demands swimming lessons from you and a tour around the new planet, so use this little moment of peace."
Feyd's heart skips a beat when he feels your lips brushing on the skin of his neck and hears you calling yourself his wife. He allows himself to drown in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your gentle touch on his skin. He buries his nose in your hair, shuddering slightly as you place small kisses on his neck and lick his skin, teasing him. However, one thing was still bothering him…
"Little Na-Baron?" He asks, confused, when you lazily stroke his head with your fingers, drawing patterns on its pale skin.
"Our son. I pleased you so well last night that you forgot about our son, or are you just not awake yet, darling?" You ask him teasingly, opening your eyes to look at him for the first time.
Feyd is speechless when he sees the spark of malice in your eyes and the beautiful smile you give him. Your beauty, the calmness with which you lie curled on his chest—as if it were the most normal thing you do every day—and the strange warmth that spreads across his chest because of it make him lose his ability to speak.
You giggle, pulling him closer to you and placing a tender, gentle kiss on his lips. You moan, enjoying the feeling of his plush lips, sucking on his bottom lip as you claim him as yours. Feyd feels himself starting to harden just from the feeling of your lips on his and the teasing movements of your fingers around his nipples.
"I…" He tries to speak, but then he hears the baby's soft whimpering. He tenses up, unaccustomed to any interaction with children.
His gaze goes from the cradle placed in the corner of the room to you in pure panic, as he has no idea what to do with the crying baby. But you don't seem to care about the baby crying as much as he does. You groan in protest and pull away from him, burying your face in the pillow.
"Mhm... go to her, it's your turn." You mumble, not giving him a glance, as you hug the pillow instead of him. He starts to be a little jealous, but that feeling fades away, replaced by panic as the baby's cries intensify.
"Now you're letting me go?" He asks, hoping you'll change your mind and take care of the crying demon in the cradle yourself.
"I simply found a better use for you elsewhere." He huffs, leaning towards you and ruffling your hair. You punch him in the chest and force him out of bed. He rolls his eyes at you and turns hesitantly towards the crib.
He feels his legs shaking and his heart beating with nervousness. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is stressed and nervous by a crying baby in a cradle. He breathes deeply as he stands over the cradle.
His world stops when his eyes meet small irises that are a similar shade of blue to his. And his heart stops when he sees a little copy of you. Your child is undoubtedly a reflection of you. She only has his eyes, but the colour of her skin and hair, the shape of her nose, mouth, and eyes are all you. Feyd's heart pounds as he stares at the small miracle before him. Suddenly, the sounds reach him again. Panicked, he takes the baby gently, making sure not to accidentally hurt her, and in a few quick steps, he is by your side again.
"I… I think it is hungry." He says, reaching out towards you to hand the baby to you as quickly as possible.
"Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, did you just call our daughter it?" You ask angrily, sitting on the bed and looking at him furious. You sigh at his helpless expression and take your daughter from him. "Forgive daddy, Katerina. He doesn't usually behave like this." You mumble sweetly to the baby, trying to calm her down.
Miraculously, because Feyd can't call it anything else, you manage to calm down the baby in your embrace, her little lips pursing in dissatisfaction as she waits for you to feed her. Feyd swears she makes the exact same face you do when you're impatient or angry. His heart melts even more at the image in front of him.
Feyd sits on the edge of the bed, watching in fascination as you feed your baby. This scene seems... unreal to him. He had never experienced anything like this before—the feelings of warmth, safety, and boundless love and devotion that appear in him when he looks at the two of you.
He may have had vague memories of his mother singing bedtime lullabies to him and Rabban, but... he had never felt the way he did with you and your daughter. He had never felt that disarming feeling of home that made him allow himself to become vulnerable for the first time in many years.
He uncertainly reaches towards the child and gently strokes his daughter's head. The colour of her hair is identical to yours. Feyd's lips form involuntarily in a smile when the child reaches her little hand to his fingers, tightening his fist firmly. As she gently moves his hand away from her head, she does not let her grip on his fingers loosen. She was strong for a baby. She certainly had a warrior nature inherited from both of you. Feyd couldn't wait to train her...
He found himself thinking that all he wanted was to curl up in this bed with you and hold you safely in his arms before he would be brutally torn from this beautiful dream or vision.
He sits on the bed, looking at the two of you, when suddenly the bedroom door opens. The thud of small feet on the metal floor echoes around the room, and that's all the warning Feyd gets before the little white-haired boy lunges at him.
"Dad! Dad! We'll be there soon! I can't wait. Uncle Rabban told me that there are huge oceans that can swallow our ships if we land wrong! Is it true?" Asks the child, sitting on his lap and holding him tightly.
Feyd hesitantly wraps his arms around the boy, making sure he doesn't accidentally fall from his lap to the floor. His gaze quickly shifts to you in utter confusion. Rabban as a caring, mischievous uncle? What the hell was that supposed to be?
"Your uncle has a habit of distorting some facts, Feydor. I assure you we'll be fine. And Lankiveil is wonderful, isn't it, honey?" You ask Feyd, resting Katerina on your shoulder and making sure she burps.
"Yes. It is beautiful." He says, unconsciously running a hand through his son's hair as he looks at the three of you, unable to get over the shock and awe.
"I want a hug." Your son demands. You laugh as you pull him closer to you. When you see that Feyd isn't moving to join you all, you grab his hand and gently guide him back to the soft pillows. You lie there curled up, you with Katerina on your chest, Feydor between you and him as you wrap your arms around each other.
His son mutters something to his sister, but Feyd doesn't hear him. All he can do is stare at the three of you in amazement.
"Now sleep. Both of you. I don't want to hear any grumpy complaints about not getting enough sleep, okay, my boys?"
'It only happened once." Feydor mumbles, manoeuvring your and Feyd's hands to hug him tightly. "Besides, Dad was whining worse than me."
"I have no doubt that was the case. Your dad is a terribly fussy and grumpy man." You laugh and lean in to place a quick kiss on Feyd's lips. He strokes your waist, moving closer to you and your son as baby Katerina mumbles something in a language only she knows.
Feyd can only watch tenderly as his little family falls asleep, curled up in each other's arms. And he believes that this is the best possible future that can await him. He doesn't want the throne. He doesn't want to become emperor. He just wants to be able to fall asleep and wake up with you in his arms and your children running around. It's all he dreams about.
The younger Feyd would certainly laugh at him and mock him for such a trivial goal he had set for himself, but what more could he want with the title of baron and you by his side?
He saw perfectly well how the lives of his uncle and emperor turned out and knew the tragic fate of great people in power who decided to devote their entire lives to achieving the greatest possible influence. Feyd didn't want to follow in their footsteps. He wanted you. He realised, with horror, that this was enough for him—the vision or dream he had now was his ideal future.
"I love you." He whispers to your sleeping form before the darkness overwhelms him again.
He wakes up again on the ship, in the same room, and on the same bed. The difference is that your warm body is not pressed against his, and the throbbing pain from his stomach spreads uncomfortably throughout his body.
He groans, sitting on the bed and looking around. His hairless eyebrows wrinkle when he sees one of your spies with him. He automatically grabs the hidden knife and attacks your spy before she notices that he woke up.
"My Lord Baron, I can explain…" The woman says this as he presses the blade against her chest. She stops talking when he cuts off her access to the air by tightening his grip on her neck.
"Where is my right hand?" He growls, sticking to the remains of his control when he refrains from killing her. However, he does not stop himself from making a light cut on your spy's neck. Years of experience have proved that people were more willing to talk after he took some blood from them.
"It really wasn't my idea. She decided so. She knew that you would not let her do what she was planning, so she had to somehow... get rid of you from there, my lord Baron."
"Hm... that sounds like her, but... I would like to hear more about that plan of her. Say something useful and I might even spare your life." Feyd purrs, lazily dragging the blade down her neck to her collarbone, making a small cut.
He preferred not to hurt your toy too much. He didn't know how you would react to the loss of this particular spy. She must have been someone you trusted to entrust him to her.
But that didn't mean that Feyd couldn't land his anger at you on her for leaving him behind and completely unaware of your actions.
"Long ago, the Bene Gesserit had only one reverend mother. Their order was small then, but it was developing well. A certain ritual was invented to ensure that the most powerful of them was in power. It… is about the struggle of life forces. I don't know exactly how it's done, but… lady Y/N said that they both have to die for one of them to survive. She… she knew you wouldn't let her, so she had to make you leave that rat's nest so she could get the job done." A cold shiver runs down Feyd's spine. He needs a moment to compose himself and process your spy's words before he speaks again.
"They both have to die? What do you mean?" He asks, unconsciously tightening his already painful grip on the woman. His hand, the one holding the dagger, trembles slightly as he impatiently stares at her, waiting for an answer.
"I... they have to... they... their hearts stop beating and... the one who is stronger and has more life energy takes over the other's powers and survives."
"So... she may lose and die?" Fed sees your spy swallowing heavily after hearing his question. Thanks to this, he already knows the answer to it.
Strangely, instead of the huge, red fury and bloodlust, everything he feels is fear. Since he arrived at Giedi Prime, he has never felt fear. His uncle made sure that this emotion did not prevent him from reaching the ideal that his uncle demanded from Feyd. But at this point, when the vision of your dead body appears before his eyes, Feyd feels almost paralysed by fear of your life.
"There is... a little possibilty, my lord Baron."
This information is enough for him to make a decision. He stabs your spy in the stomach and allows her to sit on a bed. He reaches the exit in a few steps and opens the door with a bang. A doctor and two soldiers are waiting in the corridor. They look at him with fear in their eyes when he comes out, covered in blood. Before they can speak and probably inform him about his state of health, Fed is already growling at them and giving orders.
"Heal her and bandage her. She was only fulfilling my fiancee's orders." Fed tells the doctor. He is pleased with the surprise he sees on your spy's face. He intends to enjoy informing everyone about his 'engagement' with you. If you could have your plans, he could have some of his too. "Tell the pilot to turn back. And call more ours. We will burn these rats' nests to the ground."
With this promise, he leaves the room, ignoring the pain in his trunk. He must have found you before Fremen left with you for another hideout. He had to be fast and precise if he wanted to have you safe by his side. Maybe he should also ask the doctor for a sedative. Just in case you were stubborn enough to fight him instead of cooperating with him.
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"What do you think?" Atreides' question catches you off guard for a moment. You stop watching the Fremen as they prepare to leave the sietch and shift your gaze to Atreides, raising an eyebrow in question. "About them. About my speech there."
"Are you looking for praise?" You mock, taking a closer look at what exactly he's putting into his bundle.
"I'm looking for a second opinion. Objective. Analytical and thorough." He replies, tying the fabric as he waits for your response.
"They will do whatever you want. Isn't that enough for you?" You ask, licking your lips as you choose your words carefully. You can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Paul wipes them away with his hand, not yet aware of the poison that courses through his veins.
You wanted to make sure as much as you could that when the moment came to defeat him and take his life force, there would be no shadow of a doubt that you would emerge victorious from the duel between you. After he went through the Reverend Mothers ceremony, you could try to perform the old ritual of reclaiming power between you two. This hasn't been done for centuries. So you hoped that everything you remembered from the old scrolls was true and that Atreides wouldn't surprise you with anything.
Even if he was a Kwisatz Haderach, you're still going to defeat him. No one and nothing will decide your fate.
"For now, yes. But in the future, I will need their full devotion. After all, I won't be the one to rule them on Arrakis." You raise your eyebrows questioningly, curious as to what his big plan for the future might be.
"Who do you want to entrust them to?"
Silence falls between you as you both look at each other intently. You know he's judging you, wondering how much he can tell you and how much he can hide from you. And you have to be convincing enough to gain even a little bit of trust from him. You know that stabbing Feyd helped you a lot with that. No matter how much it hurt you to do it.
"To be honest, you have the best skills to serve as Governor of Arrakis. The only question is, will you be equally faithful to me?"
"Me? Why?"
"They're already afraid of you. Besides, I saw your power—you're quite a powerful Bene Gesserit. Even if you don't like being called that, you can't cheat or change your destiny, no matter what."
"But... it is not all about power and fate, though is it?" You ask, slowly approaching him. "It is... something more there. Much more than we know." You whisper, looking at him with your most captivating gaze. Feyd would have killed him and tortured you if he saw you flirting with someone else... but luckily he wasn't here. And you had to somehow lower Atreides' guard.
"Indeed." He mumbles back and takes a step towards you. His fingers gently caress your jaw, tracing it until his fingertips brush against your lips. "My mother told me legends about the birth of the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. A woman who could bring thousands to their knees with a wave of her finger, tamed the most bloodthirsty of all beasts. Stilgar... has suspicions that you may be the mother of the one, the one to come. Of course, this conflicts with his perception of me as the chosen one."
He spoke the truth. You were the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. But not because you were born according to their program. You simply had potential, and they had way too much time and no obstacles to train you differently. You were supposed to be their perfect pawn in their game, to provide them with the Kwisatz Haderach. And now… you will kill the one who was supposed to be him.
"Even so, you don't lose power. They still listen to you. More than anyone else." You say, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips. He licks them, holding your jaw tightly as he leans slightly towards you.
"I may be my father's son, but I'm not going to make the same mistakes. You know, it is much safer to be feared than loved because... love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails."
"The prince Machiavelli." You say, knowing a quote from the book. You're a little surprised that he would read something like that. He also seems amazed that you know what book he took these words from.
"Indeed. Hmm... Maybe you're not that cruel and bloodthirsty Harkonnen witch people think you are. After all, you're a bit educated." Under any other circumstances, you would have kicked him in... his tender place for this. But now you have to smile sweetly, comforting yourself only with the thought that he will soon die at your hands.
"Believe me, Atreides. I am everything they talk about and more." You mumble before leaning in to connect your lips in a kiss.
Kissing him is… different from kissing Feyd. Less intense, less hot, and less passionate. With him, you don't feel that familiar thrill of excitement you feel every time Feyd literally devours you. This kiss is... too polite. There's not an ounce of desire in him, at least not on your part. You try to be persuasive, though, caressing his lips, but it's not the same plush softness of Feyd's lips. Your mind refuses to be fooled, and you realise with horror how deeply your new Baron has managed to get under your skin when you haven't been able to enjoy the kiss of any other man.
Atreides reaches for your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth. At least he was the only one having fun out of the two of you. You place your hands on his shoulders, slowly pulling your hidden dagger from your sleeve as you let the man kiss you and explore your body with his hands.
You almost sigh with relief when his lips finally leave yours. He moves to kiss your neck, and you decide that this is the moment to start the ritual.
"Stay still. Don't move or speak." You use the voice on him. He stiffens in an instant, his eyes widening slightly as the steel of your poisoned blade presses against his neck. "You were right. It's better to make them afraid of you than to love you."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see him grab his hidden knife. But before he can stab you, you place your hands on his temples and recite the old formula, beginning the ritual. You feel yourself slowly starting to lose strength. You both kneel to the floor, life draining from the two of you.
It has begun. - you think as darkness takes over you.
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This... is different from what you expected. Nowhere is it written what happens after the connection between the brains of the Bene Gesserit combatants is made. Or what kind of test are the two of you being put through to find out which one of you is stronger. You thought you and Atreides would stand in some imaginary arena and fight until one of you killed the other.
At least you would prefer this to the burning pain that overwhelmed you. You feel like you're immersed in pure, wild fire. All your nerves were burning. You felt your body, but at the same time, you were far from it. And all you could see and hear was blackness, screams, whispers, and songs in a language foreign to you. You feel like you've gone mad. Any pain you've felt doesn't compare to what you're going through right now.
You feel every cell in your body tear apart, and at the same time you remain in a void, unaware of anything except the feeling of pain.
But you endure it.
And suddenly, everything disappears. For a moment, you feel or hear nothing. It's just you and your consciousness as you anxiously await the turn of events.
Then various images begin to appear before your eyes—visions of the future and the past. You see every possible course of events that could occur and every single scenario that may happen. In some visions, both you and Feyd die; in others, it's just him or you; and in others, you both live to old age together. One element is constant. Only one. And you shudder every time you see the familiar figure of your future son ascending the throne as the Emperor and taking care of the entire world, restoring balance and peace.
All of Atreides' power has passed onto you. You knew everything. All possible futures. And they scared you more than you thought they would. And you feel completely different than you thought you would...
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After some time and tens of thousands of visions, you return to your body. You begin to feel everything around you—the soft sheets beneath you, the softness of the pillow beneath your head, and the quiet beeping of the machines keeping you alive.
You struggle to open your eyes, hissing as the light hits your eyes. You look around, expecting to find a familiar hospital room, but instead you find yourself in Feyd's chambers. On fucking Giedi Prime.
"Welcome among the living." Feyd's hoarse voice reaches your ears. You turn your head towards him—too quickly, making you feel a little dizzy—but you open your mouth to speak anyway.
You have a terrible coughing fit, and your throat is drier than it has ever been on Arrakis. As you curl up on Feyd's bed, coughing up your lungs, you see him quickly fill a glass of water from the corner of your eye. He sits next to you, pulling you against his chest. You lean your back against him and drink the water greedily.
Feyd gently strokes your back, watching carefully as you drink the water. His gaze is watchful and attentive as he makes sure you drink the last drop from your glass.
When you finish, he takes your glass and walks over to the table to set it down. A cold shiver runs through you as you feel the absence of his presence. You remember how the last time you saw him, he was unconscious and injured. Because of you.
"I was more expecting to be chained to a wall in a prison cell. Or to have your harpies hovering over me and waiting for you to cut me up for them." You say jokingly, teasing him. But he doesn't laugh. You see him tense at your words before he slowly turns to face you.
"I had such an idea in my mind a month ago, when I found you pale as death in the arms of the equally dead Atreides. But I guess enough time has passed for me to get over it… or I just killed enough Fremen and doctors and Bene Gesserit women who couldn't bring you back to calm myself down."
"Month?" You ask, swallowing thickly as you bravely endure his stern glare.
"Mhmm… a month, two weeks and five days to be precise. This whole time, you were either losing your pulse or screaming until your throat was torn. Also, you had a fever that we barely managed to break down, and you were pronounced dead a few times, but who cares, right?" He asks casually, but you can clearly see the rage bubbling inside him despite his obvious concern for you.
"Oh… that's… a while."
"A little bit more than a while." He growls at you, playing with his dagger—the exact same one he gave you. You shudder as you see how much the blade has bent from the blood of the people you used it on.
"What about Atreides?" You ask, confused, wondering if it was really a good idea to bring this up now. Especially since he is playing with a poisoned dagger in his hands. And you used up the antidote to it (apparently) a month ago.
"I have his head. Do you want it on a silver platter, or should I just frame his tongue and hang it on the wall? Maybe right next to yours for being a liar and a traitor?" He asks furiously. But that's not what scares you the most. He's calm. Too calm and composed. And this was often how his anger manifested itself before he killed his victims.
"I... you know perfectly well that I had to do it. If I had done it differently, his... skills would have been lost. And I... now I see everything. I can prevent everything, I can make everything fine. Isn't that a big advantage for you? Have an oracle next to you?" You ask, slightly nervous about what he's going to do next.
"Depends on what this oracle wants to show me and what it doesn't want to show me. But since you know everything and the entire future, you probably know what I will do now." He says and heads towards the exit.
Your heart clenches, and you feel an inexplicable panic as you see him walk away from you. You can't stand how cold he was towards you. You have to do something. You can't just let him go.
"Feyd." You call after him and get out of bed to follow him. When you're on your legs, you lose your balance, and you would have fallen to the floor if Feyd hadn't caught you in his arms.
You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as you breathe quickly. You look at each other for a moment, allowing yourself to immerse yourself in the closeness of the other one.
Feyd places his hand under your knees and picks you up in bridal style. He puts you on his bed again and pulls away to leave. You grab his elbow tightly and hold on, forcing him to stay by your side as you give him a desperate, pleading look for him not to leave you.
Feyd sighs, sitting next to you on the bed. He leans towards you and rests his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against yours. And you feel really calm for the first time in years.
"You have no idea... I have killed men for smaller things than that. The only reason you're still alive... is because I prefer to destroy you myself. Without the help of any sick rituals or poison. You'll be begging me to kill you, little witch. I'll make you go through the same damn pain you put me through. You'll be begging me to stop making you scream. Oh, and I'll make you scream much louder than becasue of this stupid ancient ritual."
You know he's mad at you. And he has every right to do so. But you can't take his words seriously. Not when you have irrefutable proof of the depth of his feelings for you. As he said, he killed for less. If he wanted to, he would have gotten rid of you or hurt you by now. But he didn't.
"I'll happily scream because of you, my Baron." You reply, placing your hands on his cheeks. You stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs, trying to memorise every little bit of his skin.
"I… I'm serious." He growls at you. He places his hand on your neck and squeezes it gently. You smile and press a kiss just near the corner of his mouth.
"Me too. Do it. Show me how loud you want me to scream for you." You challenge him, placing small kisses on his face.
"Y/N... I should have killed you ages ago, woman. You poisoned my mind, you stabbed me with a sword, you left me alone to deal with the mess you made, you forced me to worry about you while you slowly died in front of me day by day, and I couldn't do any-fucking-thing. So tell me, how can I get past this? Why is it that all I want to do is fuck you until I feel like you're really alive and around me?"
You bite your lip, trying not to moan at his words. You lick your lips and lean towards him, kissing him. He moans into your mouth and tries to pull away from you, but you grab his neck and pull him towards you. Your heart speeds up as your lips caress his as you give all of yourself to him in that kiss.
You gently massage his scalp and lie down on the pillows. You pull him with you as he starts to kiss you back. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pulls away from you with a growl and presses his forehead against yours, trying to calm down for your sake. After all, you had just woken up... too bad his cock wasn't as sympathetic to you as you rubbed against him.
"I… my mother was a Harkonnen, you know? Maybe that's why I was so drawn to you. Like calls to like or something like that." You gasp, remembering the memory you saw. Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise. A shiver runs across his skin, realising the power you've taken from Atreides.
"What else do you know?" He asks, caressing your cheek. You turn your head and press a kiss on the palm of his hand. You surprise him even more, but he's not going to protest when you show him affection. This was very rare in his life, and the fact that this small, voluntary gesture of adoration was coming from you made him even harder.
"That I don't want to lose you for some visions that may or may not happen. That you love me and that these months have been torture for you. That you hated me as much as you needed me to come back to you. That I… only want to think about us. I only care about our future, and I'm willing to watch this world burn if it means I can hold your hand until the end. with no fear that fate will make us hate each other. That I want you to be the only prophecy I care about."
"What about your escape from fate? You never wanted… to be part of this Kwisatz Haderach thing. Will you run away from me when you see that the path we are following leads inevitably to what you were so afraid of?"
His doubts are absolutely right. But that doesn't change the fact that you need him close to you right now. That you need his reassurance that everything will be fine, not his resentment. And you know it was wrong of you to demand from him things like that, but... nothing about your relationship was healthy anyway.
"Fuck it if I can't have us. Fuck it if I can't have you." You say and pull him in for another kiss. He moans in shock into your mouth but quickly responds to you with equal passion. You gasp as he grabs your waist tightly and lifts you up, making you sit on his lap.
"You said you love me." He gasps as he slowly removes your nightgown that he dressed you in himself.
"I did... I also stab you." You say as your hands reach up to start undressing him as well.
"You did. And you killed Atreides." He purrs against your jaw, placing kisses and hickeys there.
"I did." You groan, your hands shaking as you try to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.
"You handed me over to our people."
"I did. You are quite heavy." You giggle as he blows on your neck, tickling you, before sinking his teeth into it. You dig your fingers into his back, pulling him close to you.
"Why did you do this?" He asks, pulling away from you to look at you carefully, gauging your reaction, making sure you were always on his side, and doing everything for your mutual good. For his good.
"Because I decide about my fate. Not Bene Gesserit, not any Atreides, not you or anyone. Only me. And I want you. And love you. And need you. But only as my equal... and if you will have me."
"I won't let you go anymore." He warns, laying you down on the bed and towering over you.
"I will never want to leave." You promise, looking into his icy blue eyes and stroking the scar on his lower stomach—from the wound you gave him.
"Good."
"Good."
"Say it again."
"Good?" You ask teasingly, pressing kisses to his neck and giving him a few hickeys, marking him as yours with more than just his scars.
"No. You know what."
"I love you."
"About damn time." He growls, devouring your mouth. You moan as he bites into your lower lip. You both don't hold back anymore. Feyd marks you like a map, as if he wanted to memorise all the sensitive places that made you moan and writhe in pleasure, pressing into his muscled body.
You forget for a moment the whole world, everything you've done for him, everything you both should have discussed—all you can think about is Feyd. About wanting to be closer to him, about needing him as desperately as he needs you. So how can Feyd resist you when you're so willing to take him in? When he had dreamed of this moment for years? When can he finally satisfy his desire for your body?
He trails his kisses lower, gently taking your nipple into his mouth and cupping your other breast, massaging it. You moan, scratching his scalp, throwing your head back against the pillows, and grinding your hips against his.
You're both starting to get annoyed by the underwear that's preventing you from clinging to each other the way you want. Feyd rips your panties off of you, wasting no time in pushing his fingers into you. You whine, thrashing around on the bed, wanting more and yet too sensitive for anything else. You open your eyes and gasp at the sight of his full, erect length rubbing against your thigh. Feyd pinches your nipple, making you moan and shifting your gaze to him.
"Eyes on me, little witch."
"But... ach!" You moan as his fingers speed up inside you, tears forming in your eyes as your hips move in time with the rhythm of his fingers as you chase your orgasm.
"Listen to your Baron. Eyes on me." He pauses to slap your pussy. You moan, biting your lower lip. "And don't hold back any sounds. Or I'll punish you like I should have since you woke up."
It's very hard to keep your eyes open for him. Especially when his fingers massage your clit so perfectly and fill you up. You reach your hand to his hard cock on your thigh and rub it gently.
He growls, kissing you hard and punishingly, as you try to speed things up and make him lunge at you in a frenzy of lust, when he wants to tease your pussy and punish you accordingly first.
For a month he waited by your bedside, bravely holding you through the stages of your screams and high fevers, making sure you were alive, breathing, and your heart was beating in a rhythm he had memorized. He deserves to have some fun with you...
"Feyd... please..." Your moans, the kisses you place on his jaw, and the way your fingers caress the scar on his muscled stomach—the one you gave him yourself—make him lose his restraint, which was already frail and weak. At least that's how he explains his desire to immediately fulfill your wish.
His arms wrap around you tightly as he gently pushes into you, making sure his entire alabaster length will fit inside you. He stops, cursing in his tongue and resting his forehead against yours as he gives you a moment to adjust to his length. Finally. He finally feels you all around him. And you're tighter than he dreamed.
"Damn… you little witch…"
"I know..." You gasp, wrapping your arms around him, and kiss him hungrily, basking in the feeling of fullness as his length perfectly fills the void inside you. It's warm. It's nice to feel him so close to you. It's nice to be with him. You moan as he starts to move slowly, testing how far he can go.
Feyd growls, picking up his pace when you don't protest, his hips bucking wildly against yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.
He grips one of your hips and cups your cheek with the other, making sure your eyes are focused on him. He kisses away the tears streaming down your cheek, licking them off your face. He kisses you fervently and hungrily, catching every moan and grunt you make as his hips grind against yours. A wet sound echoes through the room, occasionally interrupted by a moan from either of you as you finally come together in the most primal, animalistic way, demanding each other.
"Mine. Only mine." Feyd growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful Baroness. Fuck. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around his chambers.
"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. I will never let you escape again, I will never again let you out of my sight for more than a second, I will never again let you fight against the world and fate alone. We are the two sides of the same coin... WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.
You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss.
And for that moment you knew what cosmic love really meant. And you would fight with anyone to be able to experience it whenever you wanted.
"I love you." Feyd whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple and tightening his grip around you.
He slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you, still holding you in the iron grip of his arms. You lazily snuggle into him and trace the scar you gave him with the fingertip of your finger. Guilt grows within you, and for a moment, you think that he purposely allowed this scar to remind you of what you did.
You decide to talk to him about everything tomorrow. It was just the two of you for now, and you were going to enjoy this as long as you could. You place your head into the crook of his neck and take his hand in yours. You tangle his other hand in your hair and snuggle into him, sighing as you feel his touch, warmth, and scent around you.
You both fall asleep cuddled together. And for a moment, you allow yourself to be in bliss of his touch and closeness, not worrying about any politics or issues that you should discuss instead of... giving in to something you have wanted for a long time.
From now on, you decide your fate.
Only you and Feyd.
That's why you make sure that your first child will be a daughter.
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sageryuri · 7 months ago
Text
NEW YOU, JAKE SIM.
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pairing jake sim + afab!reader.
genre fluff, angst, smut.
summary all hell breaks loose when you, the heir to the throne, decides to run away to begin a new life. luckily, you experience a surprise encounter with jake sim, which brings upon freeing adventures and sprouts a taboo relationship between a princess, and a poor criminal.
word count 10.7k (unedited).
warnings i’m sorry for the beomgyu slander 😔, jake refers to reader as princess as much as he can really, suicide mentions, family toxicity, NSFW MINORS DNI!!! (fingering fem!receiving, handjob, oral male!receiving, unprotected sex, light choking), death mentions.
an tis here!! took me awhile but i always prevail. ty for all the support <3
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Royalty never lived up to the expectations that outsiders had anticipated. None of the money, gowns and experiences would live up to what those people would always have — complete freedom.
They could travel whenever they desired, do what activities they desired, be with who they desired; ultimately being who they wanted to be. You were stuck on the inside of a kingdom, and despite its tremendous size, it could never live up to the feeling of adventuring outside of the castle walls.
You had been unsure what you had done wrong to deserve something so terrible, but you had been enforced into a marriage that you would never agree to. In fact, they were so enthralled by this marriage, that you were not allowed to leave the premises so you couldn't meet anyone else until you had fallen in love.
Though, you don't think anyone could fall in love with Choi Beomgyu. He was idiotic, vain, rude and every other possible negative adjective you could think of. Even those who matched his asininity would barely be able to cope in his presence.
However, you sense you're the only one who doesn't fall for his 'charms' since everyone else seems to fawn over him whenever he appeared. Of course, you had to be the one who would in be betrothed to him in the end.
You had simply had enough.
As it was, you weren't a fan of your life before the marriage had been finalised. You weren't suited to the position of a queen nor did you want to follow that lifestyle. All that you wanted was the opportunity to be free.
What could be any better than making a plan to run away?
This was probably the fifth ball you had attended this month; you weren't sure why they had them so much, because they all had the same step-by-step procedure as if it was some form of experiment.
You would watch as your parents made their way around, greeting the same people, the same way, as if they hadn't seen each other a week ago. It was comedy-worthy how absolutely fake every single person here had been.
Within minutes of being there, you had already made your way over to the buffet table where your only friend, Julia, had been encouraged (practically scolded by your mother) to stand.
Her mother had been your babysitter as a child since it was rare your parents would find the time to actually spend any moments with you. Julia was the same age, so had grew up alongside you. It was interesting how opposite both of your lives had turned out to be despite being brought up by the same person, just with different blood.
"God, this is just as boring as I'd imagine it to be. Look at them all, it's like a food chain. I'm shocked nobody had cracked yet." You stand next to her, avoiding the gaze of everybody else in the room as you usually would.
"You shouldn't speak that way, you never know who is listening in." Julia had always been nervous when it came to your public conversation, considering she'd likely receive more of a punishment then you would, however, she leans into you more, "I would have to agree though. I could not point out a singular person who genuinely looks interested in their conversation."
"I mean, look at that herd of girls over there. They've been squawking with each other all evening, but I definitely saw Emily pointing fingers at Destiny last week." You nod your head towards the group that stood near the entrance, all chatting with one another as if they wouldn't talk behind each other's backs any other time of day.
Your eyes shift along, expecting to find another group of people to roll your eyes at, instead encountering quite a surprise. There's a servant that you don't quite recognise; brown shaggy hair, the same familiar white uniform that appears to be loose fitting, but seems to still look just right.
Surely, you think, you would have remembered someone like him.
"Julia, do you recognise him? I'm not quite sure he's ever been here before." You ask, she looks in your direction with furrowed brows as she takes in the man that you're looking at. She squints her eyes, thinking, then shakes her head.
He hadn't done anything to imply he was up to something suspicious, but you had a strange feeling about him. Feeling entranced by him, you try to think of a normal excuse so that you could speak with him — but your parents get to you first.
"Darling! Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere!" She beams at you, rather fabricated considering her eyes seem to be filled with annoyance since you had been staying distant from her the entire ball.
Unfortunately for you, Beomgyu slides into the conversation with his horrifically flirtatious smile that only forms disgust in your mind. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on it; Julia stifles a laugh when you side-eye her.
"It's nice to see you again, my love." He smirks at you, your mother almost clapping her hands in excitement as she watches, "Care to dance?"
Your mind searches for any excuse to refuse his offer, but your mother's fiery gaze barely gives you the option to think. You hate to be like everyone else in the room, but you give your best smile and place your hand into his.
Considering this would be your last time making your mother happy, you may as well allow it to happen.
The moment you reach your bedroom, you fall into your bed with a long groan. To be expected, the dress and makeup had taken at least an hour to remove, reaching almost one AM by the time you were in your chamber.
Minutes later, Julia wanders in her room for her 'nightly duties' — gossiping with you after a exhausting day. She conforms to you, jumping on your bed as you had.
"You look worn out- well, I'm not surprised after that." When she says that, you know she's referring to the excruciating dance that you had the dishonour (to yourself) of taking part in, "How was that enchanting dance?"
"I'm not sure if he was nervous or it was just natural, but his hands were incredibly sweaty! Normally I wouldn't judge, but surely you wouldn't hold someone's hand for that long when they're practically slipping off." Julia bursts into laughter at your response, tears spilling from her eyes.
You're going to miss Julia. In honesty, she was the only person that could keep you here and you wish you could take her with you. It would be too dangerous and risky, so you would have to give her the best.
"Julia... I was hoping you could help me with something." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and she looks at you expectingly, eyes boring into yours, "I'm really not sure how you will take this thought of mine, but it's truly what I think will be the best. I want to leave, and go far way."
Her mouth opens, no words to be spoken but it is clear she has many things to say.
"I know I should have mentioned my feelings to you earlier, and I am sorry for my selfishness. This is something I need, and I want your help, if you could." You look at her with hope, praying that there was something that she could do for you.
She sighs.
"I know a way that you'll be able to leave, quite easily." She states, she watches as your eyes light up and you become more absorbed in the conversation, "I know that they don't allow you to go into the basement of the castle. It's because there's a passageway through and door that leads through to the outside. It hasn't been used in many years."
In your mind, you recall every time someone had tensed up or began stuttering over their words whenever you got too close to that basement door. It was as if they knew that you had been planning to do something drastic, such as running away.
"How on earth would I get there if they're so cautious about me going in? It doesn't sound too wise." You sit up from your previous position, walking over to your wooden desk to take a seat. Allowing your head to fall into your hands, you question whether this was possible.
"Well... At particular times of the day, the guards leave their stations. Usually during your late dinners, actually- and around 4AM in the morning when they begin preparing for you to awake. If you can get out of the diner tonight, I'll show you." She whispers under her breath at you, just in case anyone had been deciding to listen in at the wrong time.
You have never hugged someone as tightly as you had with Julia. Within minutes, you had gone from having zero idea of how to get to your own paradise to having a knight in shining armour that so happened to be your best friend.
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The dinners with your family were the worst part of being a royal; you had to spend an extended amount of time with them. Despite being your blood, they never felt like they were. Realistically, they likely didn't care for you that much, you were created for an alliance.
Even if it hadn't been explicitly stated, there was no doubts that it was the reality.
If you had to admit anything, the dining hall was gorgeous. The walls are as tall as can be, painted portraits and landscapes scattering every wall. Candles are sporadically placed around the room, as well as in the large hanging chandelier.
However, the gigantic table in the centre just made the dinners much more awkward.
"I see you talked with Prince Beomgyu at the last ball. I'm glad the two of you are getting along well." Your father speaks up for the first time during your dinner and to no surprise, it's involving mentions of your 'future' marriage partner.
"Barely..." You mumble under your breath, just loud enough for them to be able to hear, but low enough that they were unable to tell it was intentional.
You needed a reason to be able to leave, since they would never allow you to go to your room when you wanted to. On many occasions, you remember how whenever you argued or became upset, they would just let you to leave so they would't have to acknowledge the needed confrontation.
"Why can't you just be kind to him? He has done nothing but treat you right and you have hardly said one word to him." Your mother places her cutlery down and glares at you, as if you were someone she had become enemies with.
Just one more day.
"Me and all the other women he has been trying to court. I'm going to bed, I'm not hungry anymore." You retort back, standing up and storming your way out of the room. As expected, they don't follow you or say a word.
Quickly, you walk back to your room to see Julia already waiting inside for you, "We have to move fast. We have enough time but I'd rather we get in and out so we don't get caught, if all goes well, you could get out tonight." Julia grins with mixed emotion; ecstatic you're finally getting what you deserve, upset that she'll likely never see you again.
"I don't think I could ever thank you enough, I love you, Julia." You want to give her another tight hug, but there is not enough time in the day. Instead, she pulls you along to take you to the sacred basement floor.
Your heart thumps harshly in your chest as you stand in front of the door. Julia pushes it open slowly to avoid loud creaks and squeaks.
As slow as you can, you walk down the stone stairs that lead down to the basement. It is barely lit, just bright enough to be able to see where you are placing your feet on the stairs. Eventually, you reach a dingy room that is filled with miscellaneous items.
"I... don't see a door anywhere." Your eyebrows furrow as you walk around the room, squinting through the darkness in order to try and find this supposed door. In fact, you don't think you can see any other way out of the basement apart from the door you had entered from.
"It's hidden for a reason, look here." Julia remarks, you turn around to look at where she is standing. She taps her foot onto a particular area of the floor, which appears to sound more hollow than the rest of it.
The floor isn't easy to see, so you get onto your knees in order to touch around, feeling how the stone flooring feels like wood instead. With a large grin, you stand up and hug Julia one last time.
"You go back to your room now so that they don't see you down here, I can think of an excuse for myself if anything happens. It's already unlocked and goes straight out." She pulls back, her hand resting on your cheek, "If this is the last I see of you, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're my closest friend and I hope I'll get to see you again in the future, much happier than you are now."
When your eyes begin to fill with water, you make your way back up the stairs and towards your bedroom and attempting to look as innocent as possible. Patiently, you watch the hours on the clock go by.
You begin to feel like the moment isn't real; not when it reaches 3AM and your hands are shaking against your door handle. The large door feels more intimidating than usual, as if it had started to grow along with your draining anxiety throughout the waiting process.
Hastily, you move through the many corridors without giving another thought because you may just second guess yourself and decide this was not your smartest idea.
As Julia has reassured you, you didn't bump into any of the royal guards — you realise they aren't the greatest, since they appeared to be nowhere in sight. You likely could have done this months ago when you began considering the idea.
This is the quietest you had ever heard the expanse of the castle to be, if it had been this way all the time, you would have liked it more. Instead, you were stuck with the family talking your ears off every second like nails on a chalk board.
You reach the basement, feeling around on the floor until you find the door again. A proud smile appears on your face when you feel the handle, though as you're pulling it up, someone or something on the other side seems to be opening it too.
"Huh?" You gasp out, almost flinging backwards when the door opens at lightening speed, revealing a very familiar face, "It's you!"
You remember him perfectly, his face was hard to forget. Opposed to his clean appearance when you had seen him at the ball, he looks muckier and he definitely wasn't wearing royal attire this time.
"Who the hell are you?" His expression displays confusion and his voice is almost aggressive, as if he isn't the one coming in from the outside; despite the tone, the thick accent that is diversely different from your own sticks out to you clearly. No one in the area sounded as he did.
"Me? Why on earth are you sneaking into the castle? Do you have a death wish?" You whisper-shout at him, mirroring his distress towards you. He doesn't respond, looking just as baffled as you are, "How long have you been doing this for? God, the security here is dreadful."
Suspecting you had been too loud because the man before you interrupted the original plan, as you had likely done to him, the sound of feet thundering above you caused your stomach to drop and your body to freeze up.
"Shit, shit, shit!" His eyes widen and he examines the room, biting his bottom lip when he can't think of anything. He sighs and puts his attention back on you, "Whatever you're doing, make your decision now or you're dead meat. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today."
He holds his hand out towards you, urging you to take it so he can help you down into the pathways below you. After a mere thought of going back and the sound of banging on the basement door, you close your eyes and take his hand into yours.
The path becomes a blur the faster he pulls you through, but you feel a weight lift of your shoulders the further you are away from that door. Finally, you feel the cold breeze of the outside, a simple experience that you had not truly felt in many months.
You don't think you could explain to another human how incredible you felt in the moment, and with the adrenaline pumping through your body you couldn't feel any better.
Eventually, your running comes to a halt when you're dragged into a run-down cottage hidden behind moss, grown out leaves and grass. It's nothing, minuscule, compared to your old home, but you like it.
Funnily, you had almost forgotten about the man who had saved your skin, now panting with his hands on his knees. He stands straight after a minute or so, looking you in your eyes that are as wide as a deers in front of headlights.
"This, uh, this isn't where I live. I just come here when I finish up my business, which you impolitely interrupted. You want to tell me what you were doing? You seemed pretty desperate to get out of there." He walks over to a desk next to the bed, which was on the verge of falling apart, and pulls out a handkerchief from the open draw.
Even though his own face was covered in dirt and sweat, he makes his way over to you and dabs away at whatever had made its way onto yours. Then, he shoves it into his back pocket before stepping back from you.
"I'd much rather know your name first. You know, you don't make yourself appear very trustworthy being so sneaky." You fold your arms over each other, giving him an accusatory look. In return, he just laughs and you look away so you wouldn't feel hypnotised by his smile.
"You're very feisty. I'm Jake, Jaeyun, whatever you want to call me. Now, you." Now knowing his name, you think that it fits him flawlessly; you wouldn't attach any other name to his pretty face.  There is a chair next to the desk which he pulls out to take a seat on, pointing his hand out towards the bed.
You noticed he had a habit of using gestures instead of his words.
"Well Jake, it's nice to meet you." The bed isn't comfy at all, but you know you should appreciate there is even one in front of you in the first place, "I needed to leave, my parents didn't really put me in the best situation, so I took it upon myself to get out of it before it was too late."
"Well, shit. You're the princess aren't you? You're worth a lot of money, you know." When you don't laugh, eyes somehow becoming even wider than they were previously, he shakes his head while he stands to place a hand on your shoulder, "I'm joking, don't look so terrified. The bed won't be up to your standards, but you're free to sleep and we'll figure something out for you in the morning."
"What about you? Mustn't you sleep?" You question, you still feel uncomfortable sitting on the bed, not wanting to attempt to sleep while he is wide awake near you. Not that you didn't trust him, but it only made you feel more awkward.
"I'll be okay. Don't worry, I'm not going to chuck you out while you're sleeping, you can breathe. And don't be so tense, you can trust me, princess." He grins at you, the light from the lantern made him look ethereal, though your heart still beats fast with conflicted feelings.
The conversation ends there, he turns the chair around the face the desk which was opposite the bed. You aren't sure what he is doing, but you feel better with him looking away. Hesitatingly, you find yourself falling into a light sleep, being awoken by the slightest noise.
You don't sleep very well that night.
The pain in your back is hard to ignore, you aren't so used to having such a springy and old bed. For a second, you expect to see Julia opening up the door to your chamber, but you are instead met with Jake walking back through the rusty door.
"Good morning, princess. I brought you some new clothing back, I imagine that cute nightgown of yours isn't so comfortable for the day." Jake holds up some clothing, what your parents would refer to as 'peasant attire'. You can feel your cheeks heat up since you had forgotten you had left wearing your nightgown in a rush.
"Thank you... for the- for the fresh clothing. I appreciate your kindness." Happily, you take the clothing from his hands. They're warm, as if they had been laid in front of a fireplace for a few hours. The new feeling of warmth after having to be used to the cruel, cold cottage brings you joy.
"No worries, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you when you're ready." You reply silently to him, with a nod of the head, then leave to go into what appears to be a bathroom.
In the mirror, you see what the last day had done to you. There's only specs of dirt left on your face, you imagine it had been significantly worse before Jake had cleared it away. Bags under your eyes show clear, causing you to let out a long sigh.
Having to get used to no longer being pampered and cared for anymore was looking harder than you anticipated. You had barely considered the cons of your actions. After a few moments of processing the past day and making yourself appear more presentable, you leave the bathroom to see Jake waiting for you, reading a book.
"I can take you somewhere that's alot safer than here. It's probably not what you want at the moment, but it's probably the best you're going to get for now." Jake places the book down and diverts his eyes to you. His eyes rack over your body, not in a sexual manner, just to examine the fitting of the clothing.
"Could you tell me what you meant by 'business'? I haven't associated myself with those people for a long time, so I won't get you into any trouble. I don't mean to intrude, but you practically know my story." Anxiously, your hands clasp in front of you and you can't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes yet.
"Well, I guess I'll trust you. Me and my family aren't very well off, if you couldn't tell. It's not east to get jobs, and even the boys who do have jobs barely get a penny." He sighs, you begin to feel bad for asking, "Surprisingly, assigned waiters and waitresses get paid enough for us to afford what we need and I'm nimble enough to get in there and fake the job. I wouldn't have done it without Julia."
Your brain short-circuits and your head shoots up to look at Jake. Confused, he looks between you and the wall at the sudden change in body language, waiting for you to speak.
"Julia? You know Julia? We were close and she never mentioned you, she even acted like she didn't know you when I asked. Did she not trust me?" Your eyebrows furrow as you start to question yourself, and everything that you had experienced.
Jake only grins at your concern and shakes his head in disagreement.
"She was always so cautious, I did tell her not to bring this up, I'm sure she was worried of others listening. She helped me- alot. Wouldn't have done any of this without her.” He reassures you, the two of you decide to end this particular conversation there.
Thinking back to his proposition, you collect whatever you have left of your belongings and place them into a straw bag which had been placed next to the bed. Jake nods towards the door with a barely noticeable smile.
The door opens and you wince at the sun burning into your eyes. It radiates through your skin when you take your first step outside. Your hands grip harder onto the bag as you follow behind Jake to your next stop in your journey.
Neither of you take it upon yourself to start conversations. You don't have a problem with him and he has no issues with you, but it's obvious that there was a silent agreement that you would try and help each other and part ways.
At least that was how you had taken the last few hours. This was a new, blooming path for you, and you couldn't allow anyone to hold you back. No matter how much you may start to enjoy Jake's company, he had a family he cared deeply for and you had places you wanted to go.
After an hour or two, stopping off for the occasional rest, you encounter another cottage. Larger than the last, and taken care of. Flowers grow all around in bright colours, the brick the cottage is made out of being painted a gorgeous beige and darkened smoke peering out of the chimney.
After being at awe at how beautiful you found the cottage to be, you then see two younger boys tending to a garden filled with various fruits and vegetables. They look up, confused by your presence, but their faces light up once they see Jake.
"Jae, You're back! We were starting to get a little worried about you." They both come running towards Jake, diving into his arms as he hugs them closely to his body. You can't help but smile at the love for each other that beams from them — you almost begin to feel jealous.
"I have a come back rate of 100%, I'm invincible at this point, Won." Jake places light kisses on the top of their heads, and then their attention lands on the elephant in the room, you, "Yeah, uh, this is a recent friend of mine."
Once you give your name to his brothers, they seem to put the puzzle pieces together. The taller ones jaw drops while the other's eyebrows fall into anger.
"Sim Jaeyun what the hell have you gotten yourself into! Heeseung is going to be furious!"
Heeseung was in fact furious.
The eldest had spent about twenty minutes stalking around the cottage's main room rebuking Jake for doing something so impulsive, like allowing the runaway princess to take refuge in their home without speaking with the rest of them.
You almost stood up to leave them alone due to feeling rude and awkward, but Jake and his brother’s Jongseong and Riki were adamant on letting you stay since you had nowhere else to go. Somehow, they convinced the rest of them.
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Over the month you had been living with the seven boys, something in your mind had switched. In such a short amount of time, all of them had become prominent figures in your life and it felt like you had been there forever.
One thing that you couldn't push through was the different between how you felt about Jake compared to the rest of his brothers. The touches between you both always lingered longer and you would always notice the way he would watch you while Jungwon taught you how to correctly tend to the garden.
It was a quiet day, most of the boys were tired and taking the hours to rest, most of them sleeping apart from Sunoo who silently read a book at the dining table, and you who had been sowing away to a shirt Sunghoon had accidentally ripped.
The constant silence, apart from the sound of pages turning and the fire crackling, was broken by a loud yawn as Jake opens his bedroom door. Sunoo doesn't spare him a glance, but you look up from your needle and thread to give the man a sweet smile.
"Good morning- well, afternoon, princess." He beams, making his way over to you. Both of his hands lay on either side of your shoulders and it takes everything in you not to tense up at the sudden touch.
"What did I say about calling me princess, Jaeyun?" You murmur, still trying to concentrate on the shirt in front of you. Jake's head is now placed upon yours, and you wonder if he's trying to or is blissfully unaware that he's flustering you to the highest degree.
"That I should stop calling you princess- but it suits you so well! And I think you should keep calling me Jaeyun, I like it." He replies, you roll your eyes and give up with your task. Jake moves away from you, so you turn around in your chair to face him.
"I'll think about it." You smirk at him, he opts to sit next to you and lay his head onto the table as if he had still been tired, "I thought you would be sleeping all day."
"Well... I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride in our sailing boat. I could teach you how to use it. It's too warm for me to sleep." He responds, his head being hidden in his arms consequently leaves you unable to see the pink shade that spreads across his cheeks.
"That would be nice, I've always wanted go ride in a boat- my parents never let me do anything." Finishing up, you finally stand from the chair to stretch your legs, cracking your fingers due to the ache in them.
"You can do anything that you want now. They'll always be looking for you, but we can get you far enough that they won't be able to find you." Jake purses his lips, looking away from you before continuing, "Though you’re always welcome to stay here."
"You know that I can't." You hadn't meant to sound so cold.
Jake becomes more and more despondent every time you reject his offer of staying with him. The others boys had grown fond of you, just as he had, you were safe and free from the sickening hold of your biological family.
Alas, you wanted excitement over tranquility.
The lake behind the house could have been the most perfect sight. Somehow, the water had stayed as clean as it could be, you could see the bottom of the shallow areas. What you liked the most was the natural decoration of trees and flowers, moments like this could convince you to stay.
As expected, the boat is still attached to the pier. It was rare they ever used it, often just fishing from the pier itself, but the warm day warranted a little change.
You and Jake walk side by side in a comfortable silence, something the two of you had grew to enjoy. Over years, you had gotten used to constantly being surrounded by noise that the serenity of the cottage on rest days felt strange — you never got rest days.
At first, any kind of silence was uncomfortable, though you hardly realised it had become pleasant.
Jake gets into the boat, holding out his hand to carefully help you in. He leans over to reach for the oars, and you take a seat across from him, "How am I supposed to teach you from all the way over there?"
"Where else am I supposed to go?" You raise an eyebrow at him. He shows off a flirtatious smirk and pats the little area that is left in front of him.
Jake did a brilliant job at making you frantic; you'd never experienced a relationship such as this, apart from Beomgyu, who you would rather never hear of again.
Slowly, you take your seat in front of him, back pressed snugly against his warm chest.
"Hold tight, I'll hold my hands over yours and show you how to do it properly." The two of you seem to be holding hands a lot lately. He tries to hold your hands as daintily as he could to ensure his tight grip wouldn't hurt you, and begins to row, "You're a natural."
"I guess I'm simply just good at everything." You joke, and you finally let the stiffness in your body go, moving with your thoughts to distract yourself, "I wonder how Julia is doing... I feel awful for having to leave her."
You had worried for Julia every single day. There had been no news, at least not that the boys had heard of yet; by now, you expected a large-scale search where guards and soldier would be loitering around every corner, but not one had been seen in the area. You wondered if she was safe.
"You had no choice. I'll always wish her the best, she really did everything she could for me, for us. We had a real hard time last year." He replies, staring off into the distance as he continues to row the boat, you're barely putting in any effort.
"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Whenever it seems to come in to conversation, everyone gets quiet and moves on." You ask, almost hesitantly.
Parts of you disliked that you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. It wasn't your business, and a topic they had been evading conversation about since it happened. Though you cared about them, and want to take care of them.
"We were really struggling, the worst it had been. It was like everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. We had no food and we were freezing. There was a lot of pressure on all of us, and I guess Hoon just couldn't take it anymore. I had to jump in to pull him out of the water and I can still remember how hard he had sobbed in my arms."
"Oh Jake, I'm so sorry. None of you deserved that kind of life, you're all so loving and kind. I'm glad you all had each other, I can't imagine what you've been through." At some point, you had moved to turn your body around to face him. You had never been so close to his face before, yet it felt so familiar.
"Without Julia I'm not sure we'd still be here, so fucking up the system was our best choice. I guess I would never have met you either if I never went through with it- and I sure would have regretted that." He grins, and you can't help but return it.
"All of you are so strong, you're amazing, Jaeyun." You remind him, and hope this will be something he and his brothers will always know.
There are continuous shifts in the air whenever you are left together, as if every moment brings you so much closer, but formed a theory that there wasn't a moment where you hadn't known Jake Sim, like he was everlasting in your life.
It’s cut short when Riki comes running down from the cottage, almost tripping over his own feet. His face isn't entirely visible from the length away, but your stomach drops as you sense something is wrong. Just minutes ago, he was fast asleep.
As fast as possible, Jake rows himself back to the pier where Riki is stood, taking deep breaths. He appears bothered by something, and his concerned attention seems to be on you the whole time.
"You guys- you're going to end up in big trouble. Jesus, some guards just turned up at the door, pretty much just as you reached the pier. They didn't recognise you from so far away, we told them that you were going far out and couldn't come back, but they said they'll come back later to talk to you."
You are so, so scared; you can feel your body begin to shake as what you had been anticipating finally happens. It had been so long, that you had started to consider the idea that they swiftly moved on from you. Unfortunately, it could never be so easy.
It didn't take long for you to start sobbing, the original feeling of shock and fear subsiding into anxiety and sadness. Jay has you wrapped in his arms as you shake, everyone has seated themselves down apart from Jake, who aggressively wanders around the room.
"Jaeyun, stand still. You're just making her feel even worse shuffling around the room like that." Heeseung glares at his younger brother, standing up from his seat to walk towards him.
"Yeah? Well what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what the fuck to do!" Jake shouts, not so loud, yet it still makes you jump enough that Jay holds you ever so slightly tighter. Looking over, Jake and Heeseung are standing face to face.
"Stop shouting at me and get your goddamn act together, she needs us, she needs you. You want to help her? Then we need to talk and figure out where we go from here." Heeseung snarls at Jake, who lets out a frustrated groan and nods his head.
This was the first time you had seen them truly upset with each other. It's due to one of your own problems too, which makes you feel entirely responsible even if you hadn't intended to.
"I have to leave."
All of their eyes divert to your direction, even Jay draws back from you a little. They all share the same expression, one you can't quite read in detail, but they are shocked by your statement.
"What? No, no, where on earth would you go? We can figure this out. Don't go until you're ready to move on." Sunghoon states, his thick eyebrows beginning to furrow in concern.
"If I'm not gone by the time they get back, I'm not sure what they would do to you all if they knew I was here. I could never put you all at risky like that- and I would dread to think about the things they would do to me too."
"Are you sure?" Jungwon mumbles begrudgingly, frowning at the thought of you leaving them all. He had grown closest to you, other than Jake, and even though he would never admit it to anyone, he had grown rather attached to your presence.
Simply, you nod your head and hold your bottom lip between your teeth to attempt to avoid any more tears. Sunghoon was right to make a comment on you being ready, because you were far from so.
"I'll come with you." Jake's voice causes you to look at him again, eyes wide and lost. He appears so sure of himself, "I'll get you somewhere far enough that's safe. I can't stay with you, but I can offer as much help as possible. None of us want you out alone."
After a serious talk, heartbreaking goodbyes and reassurance that you will always have a place to be, you and Jake are on your way. He reminds you of another cottage not so long away that the two of you can stop at for the night, similarly to when you had first met.
Jake had been carrying a leather, worn-down rucksack that was filled with miscellaneous items that would keep you going and had been profusely refusing your offers to carry it for a little to give him a break.
There's a constant guilt riding through your body with every moment, and Jake is able to tell, he seems to know you well enough now. He spends his time telling you stories of his youth, his current years, his brothers; beautiful moments to tell you that this is momentary, and all will be well soon enough.
An hour or two walk leads you to the cottage, and it's far from pretty. In fact, you think some of the roof is missing and some of the windows are smashed up. Not the ideal place to stay, but it'll work for now.
"Here, take this, you're freezing." He offers up his jacket, more so forcing it into your hands. He's cold too, but he'd rather be the one to get sick.
"Why are there so many abandoned cottages around here? It's such a waste..." You question after sitting down at a wooden desk chair, your legs recovering from the long walk.
"People like to move around, they'll just up and leave, go to the next town or whatever it is they're doing. Their old homes just get forgotten about, I guess." He shrugs, he's used to them being around, while you were thinking about how lovely it would be to renovate.
It wasn't difficult for you to fall asleep, so exhausted that all it took was closing your eyes.
You never had nightmares; not until tonight.
Everyone you had come to know was there, complaining about how you were an awful friend, daughter, partner, princess. Hearing sharp words from your family was something you had become desensitised to, but Julia and Jake broke your heart.
Jake sees you shuffling in your sleep, making small noises, a concerned expression across your face. He pouts from where he sits, gathering that you were having a bad dream.
Quietly, he makes his way over to you and sits on the opposite side of the bed. He finds himself studying your sleepy face, you were always bright and ignoring a few minor occasions, he never really saw you upset.
He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he ponders whether he should wake you up, but you're faster than him, shooting up as you frantically look around the room.
"Hey, woah! Breathe princess, you're okay, you're safe." Jake speaks so softly that the tension in your body dissipates immediately, your hand wraps around his for additional comfort and you look him in the eyes.
It feels right.
Jake's free hand moved upwards to rest on your cheek, you nuzzle into his hand happily and close your eyes. A few seconds pass, you decide to look back at Jake, who you hope is feeling just as you do.
When his thumb faintly rubs against your bottom lip, it was as if the subconscious block that had been holding you back snaps. Neither of you are sure who leaned in first, but it didn't matter.
His lips slot perfectly on yours; just like his hands, his arms, every fibre of his being. You feel slightly hesitant due to your lack in experience, though the softness of how Jake holds you tells you everything will be just fine.
He caresses your waist line as his tongue slips into your mouth, and you're sure you could kiss Jake's lips forever. In comparison, you’re gripping onto Jake for dear life, taking an awfully deep breath when you part from each other.
“I’m always going to keep you safe, you and the boys, you are my life. I’ll protect you even if it kills me.” He whispers against your lips, and a stray tear slips down your cheek as you both stay with each other, forgetting about your problems just for a moment.
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You hadn't been to another town before since you were a small child, being isolated away from others for such a long time. It's so lively and full of happy people, it makes you think about how quiet it had been at your old home as everyone in town had generally kept to themselves.
"Anywhere you want to go?" Jake asks, his hand still gripping yours tightly. Neither of you decided to mention the previous night, but you both have refused to let go of each other since you fell asleep, and Jake was feeling nauseated at the thought of you getting lost.
You had to admit to being anxious; there was always the chance that someone would recognise you even if they hadn't seen you since you were much younger. Not everyone was a good person, you would end up back at square one.
"I think I'd like to go to the lake, the old lady in the bakery really sold it for me." You hold up the bag that was filled with bread and sweet treats (you had to convince Jake not to steal any of them because the lady was so kind and you had enough money), "It's getting a little late, so I wouldn't mind going to the lake for a little while and then going to the inn."
The sky is filled with vibrant variations of pinks, oranges and yellows as the sun begins to set. It shines beautifully onto the lake as you and Jake walk along the path, content as you both munch on bread and laugh with each other.
Time passes so fast that you don't even realise how long you have been wandering around for, the dark skies soon tiring you out. Your eyes feel heavy, so you suggest going to the inn.
"You are a lovely couple, how long have you been together?" The woman behind the counter asks, grinning at your closeness as she takes the money from Jake's hands.
"Our whole lives, miss." Jake says, as if it has been a normal everyday saying. Of course, you become embarrassed and hide behind Jake's arm and the elderly woman coos at you as she passes along the key.
The air feels strange once you and Jake are laid in the bed together. Even though you are so far apart from one another, it's like the heat of his body is still reflecting onto yours. Whatever you feel in your body, you know it is unfamiliar to you.
You bite your bottom lip in hesitance. Taking a deep breath, you turn around to face Jake. To your surprise, he had already been facing you with his eyes open, watching you.
"You can't sleep either?" He asks, his voice becoming raspy from the lack of speaking. Even though the room is so dark, he manages to look just as gorgeous as usual, even with such tired eyes.
"I'm thinking." You reply quietly, Jake nudges further so that he is closer to you.
"What are you thinking about?" He takes his hand, moving a stray hair behind your ear, hand now resting softly on your cheek.
When you don't answer, Jake's hand is quick to travel to the back of your head as he slams his own lips against yours. Your own hand makes its way into his hair, tugging lightly as your body shakes in anticipation when he lets out a low groan against you.
You clamber onto his lap, wanting to feel as close to him as was humanly possible. The emotions and hormones running through your body became so overwhelming that you could only let out whiny whimpers on his mouth.
His hand moves between your thighs, playing with your little clit in excitement, allowing you to grind against his veiny hand. He messes with you through your underwear, soon moving it to the side with a long groan. A long string of saliva links the two of you, Jake's jaw dropping as he looks at you.
"Didn't take you long to get so wet, you wanted me for that long, honey?" His voice drops octaves, his irises filled with a concept you could hardly comprehend; but you have never felt so much pleasure, "Can't believe I waited this long to see how pretty you look withering on top of me."
"Jake!" You grip at his arm, nails practically digging into his skin, hips moving faster and faster as you feel the intense butterflies in your stomach. Tears brim your eyes as you experience the new feeling, almost bursting as your slick covers Jake's hand.
He can barely take in the situation himself. He's hardly done anything and your eyes are already welling up and he just knows drool is going to start dripping from your swollen lips soon enough. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean.
"Off, too hot. Yours too." You start to pull at Jake's shirt, he rips your nightgown from your body, leaving you with the thin material of your underwear. Before you could think, his arm wrapped around your back to pull you into him, taking your left breast into his mouth.
His other hand reaches to wrap perfectly around the other, harshly nipping to get a squeal out of you, he slots himself comfortably between your legs, pressing you against his hardening cock. The man underneath you bites his lip hard, lifting up his hips into your core.
"Fuck, fuck baby, just like that." His eyes and hands are still concentrated on your chest, completely hypnotised by their feel and appearance. Jake is absolutely enamoured, and you're already cock-drunk before he's even gotten inside of you.
But it still just isn't enough.
When you lift yourself up and reach down to palm his length through his pants, Jake is sure his eyes roll to the back of his head. He could feel
the fire emits from you, from inside you, from every touch you gifted to his body. You're so desperate, and he's ready to give you anything you desire.
"Can I..." You whimper out, reaching over to the low waistband of his pants. Looking at your face, Jake doesn't want to rip his eyes away. Your own eyes are blown out and your pretty skin is begin to sweat, your hair managing to fall flawlessly in place like you weren't jumping his bones.
"You can do anything you want to me, baby. I'm all yours." He whispers into your ear, nibbling slightly at the lobe. Swiftly, you finally pull at his pants and he lifts up so that you can remove them completely.
It stands tall, wet and red, you can't help but wrap your hands around it. However, not wanting to make a mistake, you give him your best doe eyes to ask for help.
"It's okay, princess. Just move your hand up and down, just like that- fuck." You move your hand up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with Jake, whose eyes are beginning to close from the building pleasure, "Such a good girl f’me.”
Suddenly, you're sliding yourself down his body, your face against his chest as your back arches deliciously. Your tongue lands directly on the slit of his tip, Jake moans loudly and grips onto your hair.
He tried his best not to buck his hips upwards, though he gets even more turned on at your inherent skill to take him in your mouth with ease, the tiny tears in your eyes only make him even more feral.
Your smaller hands are moving nicely on his cock along with your gummy mouth and just the sight of you has him on the edge; a lethal combination. Not wanting to let go just yet, he gently lifts you from him with a dazed smile at your sudden concerned face.
"It's okay, baby- you're doing so, so well for me. Just want us to be able to cum at the same time, hm?" He's quick to model you into the position he wants, you on your back facing him, legs over his shoulders so he can see your fucked out, cute face, “Tell me when you want me to move, okay?”
Then, he pushes himself into you.
You expected it to sting at first, your nails digging and scratching against Jake who just takes it. He waits, albeit the ache he feels in his stomach, until you give him the green light to start moving.
"Go, please." You squeak out, and he does as his lady requests. Still hurting ever so slightly, but with every move comes a larger wave of pleasure. He's almost sure he'll have to slap a hand over your mouth or kiss you so you don't get kicked out, "Oh my god!"
"So fucking tight. My pretty girl, all this for me." Jake stutters out against your neck, sucking at it while your hand rummage around his body, his hair, dragging your nails against his back as he ravages you.
Embarrassment fills you as Jake examines your face and body below him. You try to turn your head, but he immediately raises his hand to grab you by the chin and force you to look back, then his hand makes its way right around your throat in a light choke, "Look at me, honey."
It’s such an intimate moment, both of you finally together as one, only seeing each other and nothing else in the world. He’s holding your cheek while his other hand wraps around your throat and you’re all other the place.
You reach your peak, convulsing so hard and desperate. Jake’s eyebrows furrow harder, hips faltering as he climaxes too, you feel the spurts fill you to the brim, close to bringing another orgasm out of you.
Ears ringing, he lies on top of you though trying his best not to put all of his weight down on your current fragile body. He strokes the top of your head, and you ask him to stay inside of you until you fall asleep.
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The alarm of the bright sun shining through the sheer white curtains has you waking up as soon as it hits your skin. You grab the sheets and hike them up your body, still naked after immediately passing out last night. However, it seems like Jake had cleaned you up before you awoke, no longer covered in sweat and cum.
Eyes closing again, you turn your body around and feel onto the other side of the bed for your lover, but only gripping onto empty sheets. You furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips, sitting up and looking around the room.
There is light sparkling from the gap under the bathroom door, you make the assumption he mist be in there, "Jaeyun? Are you in the bathroom?"
After a second or two, the door opens and there stands a half naked Jake, his lean torso and shoulders on full display for you. He grins as his eyes scan down your bare body, spending significantly more time on your tits.
"Now what a lovely sight this is first thing in the morning." He laughs, pressing soft kisses along the dark splotches on your neck. You roll your eyes with a smile, pushing him away a little so you could pick up your day clothing to get changed, "You could just stay like that for a few more hours, I'm not complaining."
"You're suddenly so perverted, have you been hiding this from me the whole time?" You ask jokingly, leaning against the doorway in all your naked glory. He looks at you like he has never seen anything as perfect, how he just can’t look away from you; the glint in them somehow tells you that it isn’t just lust in his eyes.
He doesn’t answer, shaking his head with a bite of his lip. Closing the bathroom door, you look at yourself in the mirror while you change, noticing the new glow in your skin — you’re sure there is a myriad of reasons why.
There’s a knock on the door to the room. strange, you think, but you imagine it may be someone complaining about the loud noises and squeaks throughout the night, so you finish putting your shirt on.
As your hand lands on the handle, Jake shouts.
“Get your fucking hands off me! She isn’t in here you, assholes! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He’s angry at whoever was at the door, the mention of a she makes you shake and back away from the door.
You search for a window, anywhere that could get you out — but the thought of leaving Jake out there broke your heart and you would rather get hurt helping him than leaving all alone.
Before you can even come down to a decision between your two options, the bathroom door bursts open, wooden panels and metal flying around the room. You could recognise the clanky soldier attire of your family anywhere, them staring you down with violent glares.
Having nowhere to go, Jake nowhere in sight, your only option is to follow their instructions.
Standing before your parents, hands handcuffed behind your back, may have been the strangest occurrence you had the glory of experiencing in your life. Their angry faces dawned on you that you had royally fucked up and should have thought about being more sneaky instead of trying to live out your romance dreams.
"You are a disgrace to this family." Your mother spits at you, staring right into your eyes with pure disgust, no remorse for what she had done to you your whole life.
"I'm the disgrace? You tried to force your only daughter into a whole marriage with a man she couldn't stand to be around. You never cared about me, I'm only here to carry on your shitty legacy." You watch as your father's lips press into a thin line at your words, his hands rub at the bridge of his nose.
"You're completely delusional. The marriage will go on and that awful man you had stuck yourself to will be hanged for his crimes." His words are like poison venom, your knees bucking in shock.
Jake would be hanged because you had feelings for him, those were the crimes in your family's mind; their biggest fear as they locked you into a marriage destined to be because it was uncontaminated by a non-royal.
"What- no, no, no! Please, please let him go. I'll marry Beomgyu, I'll do anything, just please don't hurt him. He has a family, he did nothing wrong." You beg hard, almost wanting to drop to your knees with praying hands so they would listen to your requests just this singular time.
"We can't let a man of his kind go, they'll simply have to suffer." She dusts off her hands, standing up from her undeserved throne, "Don't think we forgot about how Julia betrayed us too."
"You're all fucking sick, you're sick in the head!" You scream at the top of your lungs, throat burning and your vision becoming unclear as you are dragged away back to your bedroom.
You spend your next few days with puffy eyes, overthinking every moment. It had been the day of your marriage, a day that you would remember forever but for the wrong reasons. Julia and Jake had still been alive since your torturous parents thought it would be a splendid idea for them to watch.
"You look gorgeous, I'm sorry that this day is not going as you desire, I wish this could be much different." Julia's mother had been the woman to adjust your dress. It was easy to see the sadness and distress in her eyes and you could barely imagine how she must be feeling in the moment.
"Thank you. I'm sorry about Julia." You wince as she tightens the corset.
"There isn't much I can do about that anymore. I tried my best, and it only seemed to make things worse." She comes around to your front, smiling so bittersweetly that it hurts you.
No matter how beautiful the reception is, it just appears revolting to you. Especially when you see Beomgyu waiting at the alter for you, everyone smiling at you like you should be happy and Jake and Julia sat right at the front, handcuffed up with guards on either side of them.
Your father holds on to your arm as you walk down the aisle and it makes you want to throw up on the expensive carpet. When you reach the front, you're practically pushed into Beomgyu's arms and the audience, since it's for show, laughs.
You look at Jake and Julia, them both sharing the same facial expression as you had. Seeing Jake in this light broke your heart and if you weren't in such an awful predicament, you would have ran to him.
"Any objections?" The priests asks before he begins and you have to peel your eyes away from Jake who looks like he hasn't slept in days and is on the verge of tears.
"I object!" Everyone's head turns in awe at the disturbance. You have to rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing things correctly because Riki is standing up on top of one of the further back pews, "I think this place has some decoration."
A sizzling sound is heard from the corner of the building; then the whole left side releases a large explosion that causes the building to begin to fall. With no thought, you start to run towards the exit, alerting Jake and Julia to join you, ripping your dress in the process.
Beomgyu latches onto your arm.
"Let go of me. They’re all I have left." You attempt to say sternly, but your voice trembles as you look between him and the exit. This was your last chance and he was trying to take it away from you. You’re struggling to drag yourself away from him- but he just releases you and turns to leave himself.
Jake, Julia and Riki, even Jay who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, follow suit.
"What the fuck! Where the hell did you get explosives from you psychos!" Jake shouts with an energetic laugh, still running with his hands cuffed — you would have to figure out how to get him out of those once you were all safe.
"I don't know! Sunghoon said he knew some people!" Jay responds, chuckling back at his brother.
You're back at your real home in no time, but you know you'll have to do something about the corrupted royals at some point in time. They could have easily recognised Riki and come back for a less peaceful visit.
"How did you know what was happening?" Julia interrogates the boys, rubbing her wrists to relieve them of the pain from being locked in cuffs for so long.
"They have a weird habit of releasing all information to the public. Heeseung had a feeling that something was wrong and made a visit, luckily was the same day they announced you and had Jake hostage.” Sunoo shrugs, “Sunghoon came back with explosives and still won’t tell us where he got them from.”
"Well, what do we do now?" Jake asks, his arms still holding you protectively. Everyone stays silent, but you know you’ll figure it out together.
Years pass and they never bother you again and you would all laugh that Sunghoon’s mystery explosives must have really made them jump.
Most of the boys had moved on with their lives; Jake found Heeseung and Julia making out in the kitchen one day after a hidden relationship, then the two of them moved out into a new town a little while later to start a family. Jay and Sunghoon found well-paying jobs on travels and would come to visit every moment they could.
The three younger boys stayed back, while you and Jake built up the cottage where you revealed your love for one another to live your own lives.
You smile widely as you examine your growing belly with the new life growing inside of it, Jake watches you lovingly from his desk chair where he writes up his notes for work.
His baby, his pretty girl; you who once stood as royalty lived a simply happy life and Jake finding what he was looking for in the end.
I’d say that deserves a happily ever after.
taglist ; @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whiskrv @mixtapejimin @zyvlxqht @saintriots @yohanabanana @jentlecoeur @belowbun @meujaeyun @capri-cuntz @greyminyoon1 @river-demon-slayer
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ataraxiaspainting · 11 days ago
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Stuck Replaying the Memory.
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Yan Aventurine x GN (Avgin) Reader.
Synopsis: Life exists with the support of the Aeons, but malice is something humanity has reigned over for thousands of years.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, human trafficking, the reader is described having blonde hair and Avgin eyes, descriptions of past abuse (not from Aventurine), and major spoilers for Aventurine's backstory.
Word Count: 700.
a big thanks to my friends @harmonysanreads and @mochinon-yah for proofreading some of it!!
*~*~*~*
You were taught to keep your head down and your hopes just as low – hell seems like heaven this far beneath dead soil and skeletons of the past’s nameless victims.
Your new god makes no critique of your stance that is akin to a prayer’s and not a slave. Despite your posture being near perfect from the eleven or so past lords and ladies that would burn your skin and tongue with hot iron if you had done otherwise, you still find your posture imperfect. Impolite. There were screams and fires just moments before – your master and his new wife fleeing with guards, pleading for mercy that they had never granted to you – and then silence from outside your chamber.
*~*~*~*
“Hair like honey,” The man’s fingers brushing through your locks are cold and have long nails; the same ones that the woman caresses your scarred back with. “Eyes like jewels. Pretty rare little thing; there aren’t many of you left… If you misbehave, perhaps that number will decline even further.”
*~*~*~*
The divine starts to kneel before you – one of his hands caressing the tattoo on the side of your neck. 
It’s an odd sight; so odd that you have the urge to look up.
You don’t though, because you have been taught how not to get hurt when great beings bless you with their presence.
You hear him read your new name aloud. “Sun…”
You wince from the past memories of it being called in the places where dinner guests would populate the most on the estate. The gardens and the banquet table especially. They would gawk at you and give you all their unwanted attention. Your behavior would be evaluated and you would either be rewarded with gifts befitting that of a royal or chains befitting that of a dog.
“That isn’t your real name, right?”
 The question is raised with a tone that is often paired with your wrist, or worse your hair or ear, being tugged until you confess an answer to the presumption or question. Suspicion of treason leads to you getting charged for the crimes you did to help yourself – a small tunnel being dug with a spoon, a lockpick made from a bobby pin one of the maids put in your hair, bleeding feet from running as fast as they could carry you – most of the time you get hurt or put in a small room by yourself until you beg to be released from it.
*~*~*~*
“But if you listen, the promise to love you will never be broken.” His wife adds.
*~*~*~*
This god looks like you.
Eyes akin to a galaxy that has lost its stars. Flowing hair that reminds you of your lord’s treasure trove locked down below. There is a tattoo on his neck similar to yours, but has some imperfections that only you would notice. It says ‘Slave’ but the outline of the word seems a bit rough. The artist had an uncooperative muse it would seem.
“Do you remember me?” He asks. His tone is sweeter now – possibly from how he had taken note of the trembling you were trying so hard to hide. Your ears register his voice and your brain compares the many screaming, yelling, heinous voices from the past. The memory starts to play in your brain like an electrical shock one of the maids would give to you whenever you would do so much as to look past the doorway to the outside world.
“Kakavasha?”
“It’s Aventurine now,” Your old friend stands up holding the chain attached to your handcuffs. Something tells you they won’t come off any time soon. “We have a lot to discuss, [First].”
He swings the key in his other hand and puts it in his pocket.
“I’m not letting you go again.”
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lunajay33 · 4 months ago
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It’s You❤️‍🔥
Summary: You went along with Bella to Italy to save Edward, but when you get there things go unexpectedly and you become mate to the strongest Volturi guard
Pairing: Felix x human female reader
•Masterlist•
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Moving into your uncles house a year ago to help him with daily chores and just keeping him company was a nice change from the hot dry weather I was use to when I lived with my mom before she passed, another reason Charlie had to take me in which I was incredibly grateful for, then a few months after I moved in my cousin Bella moved back from Arizona and she became very secretive, I swear some nights I’d hear two voices coming through our shared wall, whenever I tried to question her about it but she’d always brush me off just saying she was up late talking to her mom on the phone
Eventually I got fed up with all the secrets and the way she was treating me like I wasn’t even in her life, so on a rare sunny day I decided to go over to the cullens house, basically Bella’s second home, I pulled up into the drive way amazed by how gorgeous this house was, sure Carlisle was a doctor but this had to be old money to get a house like this around this area
I got out of my old car and knocked three times against the door, after a while and a few faint angry whispers Bella finally opened the door which I find odd since this isn’t her house
“Y/n what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here”
“I’ve had enough of the secrets and how you’ve treated me, we’re family Bella and I’m alone here I just want to be close again like we were as kids”
“Well we’re not kids anymore y/n I have my own life” she said a hint of anger laced with worry in her voice
“I’m not asking for your attention 24/7 I just want a friend” I said upset as I fiddled with my fingers
“Okay im sorry im just stressed, ill make a better effort”
And after that we spent a bit more time together, then Edward left, him and his whole family just up and left leaving Bella in a deep despair, her sorrowful shrieking screams at night draining me and Charlie, and the worst was I didn’t know how to help, I tried getting her out of the house or even just sitting in the living room with her to keep her company but I could still see how broken she was
After months and her seeing Jacob she slowly started to get better, one night I was up in my room reading when a commotion broke out downstairs, I ran down seeing Bella, Jake and Alice arguing in the kitchen
“What the hell is going on?” But before anyone answered Alice spoke
“Bella it’s Edward, Rosalie told him why I came, he thinks he’s dead, he wants to die too” everything was moving so fast, Bella and Alice were running out to her car and I was still in the dark with everything
“Bella what’s going on you’re scaring me” I said looking through the car window
“I can’t explain I have to go”
“Well you’re not going without me, I’ve stuck with you through this and I’m not leaving now” I said matter of factly hopping in the back, Alice gave Bella a wary look before she speed off to the airport, having no clue where we were going until we landed, when Alice finally told me we were in Italy, the scenery zooming past as she drove through town after town until we came upon a old castle town, swerving through a crowd all dressed in robes, Bella went running off and Alice found somewhere to park as we too started making our way through the crowd on foot now
“Alice you still haven’t told me what’s going on” she gave me a gentle smile as we came upon the castle
“You’ll find out soon enough, all I can say is that your life is about to change” her words sent nervous butterflies fluttering in my belly
With what must have been a surge of adrenaline Alice broke the lock on the castle door and we entered feeling the cold air breeze over me, cooling me down from the hot Italian heat
Seeing Edward with Bella and he looked dreadful and just behind them a shorter blonde man with piercing ruby red eyes, accompanied by a very tall man and as my eyes gazed over his body from his feet all the way up to his eyes my world stopped, I felt this pull to him like I’ve never felt before, a man I don’t know had this hold on me that I never wanted to get out of, our eyes never looking away from eachother until a smaller girl broke our trance
“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long”
“I won’t be needing your assistance anymore”
“Never the less aro would like a word”
Alice squeezed my shoulder reassuringly as we all followed the blonde girl into a now crammed elevator, with the lack of space my back was pressed up against the tall beautiful man with the ruby eyes
As my adrenaline finally faded away I was left with the realization that I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into, Alice’s super strength, the ruby eyes of the strangers around me, the secrecy , it was finally scaring me feeling my heart beat so hard I could hear it and if on air a big hand gently rubbed up and down my back slowly settling my nerves, normally having a strange man touch me would have me running for the hills but there was just something about this ethereal man that I don’t even know the name of, that soothed my soul, like nothing bad could ever happen as long as I’m by his side
The elevator stopped with a ding, opening to reveal a long stone hallway with torches perched on the walls, giving a very eerie vibe to the whole situation, his hand still on my lower back leading me in the direction everyone else was walking til we got to these big doors that his touch went away making me whine for some reason
The little blonde girl pushed open the huge doors effortlessly to show a gorgeous marble room with three thrones with three men sat upon them
“Sister they send you out for two and you come back with two and a two half’s” a younger guy said as the blonde girl went and stood by his side
“Ahhhh Bella is alive fantastic” on of the three men stated standing infront of us
“And who is this?” He said glancing at me with those similar ruby eyes
“It seems one of our family has found their mate” the other glum man said
“What? Mate? What do you mean? Please just someone tell me what is happening” I asked overwhelmed as my bottom lip wobbled
“Oh dear…..may I?” The enthusiastic man asked as he held out his hand
Confused but I placed mine in his as he stared deep into my eyes
“It seems this beautiful girl doesn’t know a thing about us, she merely came to support her cousin”
“Felix how about you take her to your room and explain everything as we deal with this situation here”
“Yes master” his hand was on my back again as he led me out of the room back into the hallway
“Felix…..I like that name” his name sounded nice, sounded right, he looked down at me with the most loving look I could have ever seen
“And what might your name be mio amore?”
“Y/n…I’m y/n”
“Beautiful, a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl” I’ve never been treated like this before and it had my heart soaring
Finally we made it to a wonderful spacious room, the ceiling high, brown stone walls with red and black accent decor, with a glamorous bed in the corner with red silk sheets
“Sit my darling” he said gesturing to the bed so we sat face to face, he gently took my hands in his like I was made of glass
“What did he mean? Am I your mate? And what does that mean?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out but……we are vampires and so are the cullens, vampires have mates and some of us are lucky enough to find them, we’d do anything for our mates like I’ll do anything for you, to make you happy and safe”
His words had me frozen……vampires were real? And I’m mated to one, a gorgeous one at that but still this was all so much
“This…..this is a lot to handle Felix, I mean this is all so new to me I’ve never had a relationship before and definitely not with a vampire, sure you’re extremely handsome but I still don’t know what to do” his smile softened then slowly turned into a smirk
“You think I’m handsome little one?” He asked tucking a strand of hair behind my ear making the blood rush to my cheeks
“Of course anyone with eyes can see that”
“You never have to be worried with me, we can take this slowly, I’ve waited forever for you amore, I can wait a little longer until you’re comfortable” his hand caressing my cheek
I felt more relaxed at his words
“So what now? Do I have to go back to forks? If I do we will never see eachother” my heart clenched at the thought
“If your heart desires you can stay here, but only if that’s what you want, because I know my heart couldn’t handle us being apart, but it’s whatever you want tessoro”
“I……I want to be with you Felix, please”
“Then you will stay with my little one” I had the answer to Alice’s words, my life was going to change but all for the better
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Comment if you wanna be tagged in this series❤️
Part.2
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celuere · 2 months ago
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Sister! My guilty pleasure is to be a damsel in distress, there's just something good about being rescued by your beloved no? Getting them to see them become protective, making sure you're secure, Safe and sound, a bonus point if they're usually calm, gets angry rarely but is now seething in rage just because you were in harm's way??? Chef's kiss!
Now..... Consider being kidnapped by the abyss and have Mavuika saving you? Big mistake because you are her beloved and closest confidant (and lover).
I LITERALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF MAVUIKA COMING TO UR RESCUE. Like have you seen her in the second Archon quest? Imagine how ballistic she‘d go if her beloved is in danger. Jwlwnekwkelkwbww pyro women always having me by my THROAT.
pairing: Mavuika x GN!reader
context: look at anon request!
cw: mentions of injuries, angry Mavuika coming to your rescue (literally so hot), kinda detailed description of Mavuika going crazy on her enemies????, written before the events of 5.0, bit fluffy at the end, NOT proofread!
I never really wrote anything like this before so I really hope this is to your liking anon!
When you took part in the latest pilgrimage you knew what to expect. The dangers, the night kingdom, the abyss. They weren’t unfamiliar with you. In fact, as Mavuika‘s -the currently Pyro Archon‘s- right hand and under other circumstances… lover… you were already old acquaintances with the ongoing conflict between the Nation of War and the Abyss.
But you didn’t expect things to go so horribly wrong.
A vacation. That’s all you thought it would be. You were the last person to ever struggle in the Night Kingdom, always looking out for the younger and inexperienced, never making a single mistake. Ensuring a successful mission with little to no injuries, nobody ever died under your guidance through corrupted realm.
But every hero is bound to mess up at one point.
Clutching your bloodied shoulder with your injured hand, the claws of a Rifthound barely missed your head as you rushed up whatever path opened up to you. You miscalculated. And it was only thanked to your quick reflexes that your whole troupe didn’t got wiped out with a single strike but every success in the Night Kingdom demands an equal sacrifice. Chasca didn’t have that luck.
And now you were stuck in the Night Kingdom. The only exit being sealed from the outside after you helped an injured Kinich make it out in time. It was either him or you and there was no way in hell you would’ve left him here on his own with a broken arm so you quite literally threw the already hurting young man over your shoulder and right into the portal, being left completely alone against a horde of at least 50 abyssal monsters.
Exhaustion was pulling at your muscles, the endless running and dodging drawing the air out of your lungs faster than you‘d like. Ribcage burning from your rapid intakes of oxygen but fighting wasn’t an option, there were just simply too many of them. Of course, you tried but all that earned you was a knife being rammed into your left thigh which only cut deeper into your flesh with each meter your feet carried you. Celestia knows how much longer you will last like this.
Reaching the end of the cliff you were running up to, no other option was left other than to jump down. Without a lake to catch up your fall, you took the leap and the moment your legs came in contact with the hard ground, you were pretty sure you broke more than just both your legs according to the almost mind-shattering pain shooting through your spine.
The pain scream leaving your mouth would have probably been enough to shatter a mirror, your eyes started to water, but not only at the mere agony you find yourself in as you stared in horror at the enemies closing in.
You won’t get to see her again. Won’t get to see her beautiful face next to you every morning, nor those ridiculous sunglasses she wore so often. When she pressed her lips to your cheek this morning, you would’ve never thought to be your last. Does Mavuika know just how much you love her? How much you cherish her in your heart? Did you say those three words often enough for her to be remember them at your funeral? Would she hate herself for letting you go? Or for how often she scolded you for drinking too often to your hearts content with Xilonen? You hoped she didn’t. Hoped she will continue living on without you.
Staring up at the starry sky above you, a sword was raised right above you. The only regret you had was not loving her enough. How you won’t be there when she finally -once and for all- triumphs over the abyss. How you won’t be there for the love of your life to celebrate the victory, the ultimate goal of her life.
A last wish left your lips in a faint whisper as a shooting star came flying towards you as death‘s clock chimed in twelve for you.
But instead of your anticipated beheading, something close to a meteorite came down crashing in front of you. The sheer heat radiating from the collision along with the dust being thrown your way, you shut your eyes closed as your ears became witnesses of the most terrifying and gut wrenching sounds.
There were bones being cracked, skulls being crushed, rifthounds being ripped apart as far as you could make out. Someone was ripping the Abyss to literal shreds before you. And maybe you were next.
From one moment to the next, silence started to echoe through the realm. The only sound to be heard - someone taking harsh breath. Then something heavy falling to the floor, followed by the sound of footsteps rushing up to you.
That’s it. They wanted to finish you off with their bare hands.
„[…]!!“
Ripping open your eyelids in pure shock at the familiar voice, your beloved dropped to her knees in front of you.
Mavuika. Dropped to her knees in front of you.
„Thank the stars you’re alive-!! Kinich and the others immediately notified me of the situation and-”, the rest of her words were drowned out as you stared in disbelief up at her, still clutching your broken shoulder with your hand. Even the pain coming from your legs and spine were to be quickly forgotten as you stared up at your wife‘s worried face.
Even those ridiculous glasses grazing the bridge of her nose. You were never happier to see that specific pair of glasses in your entire life.
She came.
She came to your rescue.
„….-get you to a doctor-!“, the sentence only now registered in your brain, the pain came shooting right back at you and you couldn’t stop the pained cry from leaving your mouth, black spots starting to adorn your wife‘s face as your eyelids became so incredibly heavy-
Maybe you were celebrating a bit too early when consciousness was ripped away from you.
———————
„Their injuries might take a few good months to heal. They will need a wheelchair for the time being until the bones are healed enough to talk about further steps.“, dread settled in Mavuika‘s stomach at the Doctor‘s diagnosis. That would mean no fighting or training for you. Something you won’t like. At all.
„I understand… I appreciate everything you did, Doctor. See you tomorrow.“, bidding her goodbye, Mavuika quietly sneaked into your room. There you were. The completely lower half of your scarred body wrapped in bandages. The sight tugged at her heart. But at least you were still asleep, only waking up for a good few minutes to take in a meal and maybe a trip to the toilet, the pain being suppressed by a few special herbs Madam Citlali mixed together.
Her eyes wandered over your peaceful face, the cut on your cheek still healing. And yet you were the most beautiful thing she ever laid her eyes upon. A fact that will never change.
When the news of your predicament reached her, Mavuika never acted so fast. Never in her life before did she summon a portal to Night Kingdom this fast. Fear. Fear was something that always accompanied her whenever she sent off the winners of the pilgrimage into a new fight. But what possessed her that day wasn’t fear.
It was terror. Cold terror. The mere thought of a life without you was unbearable to her, igniting a completely new flame inside of her that blinded her in that very moment she reached you right before you looked into death‘s very eyes. Will she ever let you participate again? If it goes after her, no. Never again. But she knew you well enough to know you would never let that happen, never let her carry the burden of Natlan‘s fate alone.
She will break it to you when you can actually stay up for longer than fifteen minutes. Your recovery and wellbeing were her top priority at the moment and such life changing news were to be handled delicately. For now she sat down besides you, hand wrapping around your bandaged one as her thumb stroked over the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.
She will wait for your next awakening for as long as needed.
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zae-heeyyy · 6 months ago
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Recalcitrance
Summary: You and Ms. Grimshaw just can't get along. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,763 Tags: fluff, kissing, high honor Arthur Warnings: camp violence, angry Arthur, suggestive themes
a/n: I have mixed feelings about Grimshaw. I think she's a very enigmatic character. Still, based on interactions I've seen with her, I feel this isn't too far off. These always end up super long for some reason. Idk how that keeps happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; thanks for reading!
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recalcitrance: resistance to authority or guidance, often characterized by defiance or disobedience. It implies a refusal to comply with rules or expectations, despite attempts to persuade or control.
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You and Abigail Roberts went way, way back. Working girls stuck to a code; part of that code was looking out for each other and ensuring you returned after one of your "shifts." Abigail ran away for a while, leaving you to assume she'd met a rich man and settled down.
When you met her again, she introduced you to Dutch Van Der Linde and company; you fell in with them shortly after. Since then, you constantly scrubbed blood from clothes, slept on the ground, and ate whatever game Pearson could find for the stew. Many girls you knew would never trade that life for this one, but you had a family to return to, even if they weren't the most conventional. And amidst it all, you'd found something you didn't think possible for you. 
You were drawn to Arthur Morgan instantly. The little things spoke volumes for you—how he checked on you in passing, the moments spent playing dominos together, and his overall politeness towards you. The bar was in hell, but he treated you so differently than any man ever had. Arthur's dumb cowboy act didn't fool you for a second, and you were captivated by him.
After one too many inadvertent shoulder grazes and incidental hand touches, the chemistry between you had become undeniable. Following a game of dominos he let you win, the stocky man asked you to take a walk with him. You weren't too far away from camp before you found yourself pressed against a tree by him in a heated kiss. So many thoughts swirled around your head. You were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black, and you were being hunted by the law, yet there against that tree was the safest you'd felt in a long time. 
Then, on another fateful night, you were alone with him at the campfire while everybody else had settled down. A sly smirk crossed his face, and he scooted closer to you, grabbing and kissing your hand. You giggled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed up your arm, gradually, a low groan escaping him. One thing led to another, and he guided you into his tent. You let him have you, and you, him. 
It was then, when you were on the brink of your climax, half-lidded eyes staring upward into his, that you finally understood what people meant by lovemaking. When it was all over, you got up to leave out of habit, but he drew you back into his arms and asked you to stay.
Since then, you've been his girl, and he made sure everybody knew, always kissing you before he left for a job, settling you into his lap at the poker table, or sneaking you away from your chores to spend time with him. You saw each other for what you were, not the labels that had been applied to you. And you loved him so much.
For the first time in a long time, your life was good. Well, mostly, except you hadn't quite mastered the life of navigating Ms. Grimshaw. Over the almost year you'd known her, she was rarely nice to you. She seemed more tame when Arthur was around, but he wasn't today.
By noon, you had gotten sick of hearing her voice, and she seemed more ornery than usual. The nagging was constant: do this, don't do that, do this faster, do this slower. You wished she'd shut the hell up and leave you alone. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you saw her speed-walking towards you.
You were sitting, about to light a cigarette, when she approached, red-faced, huffing, and talking fast, "There you are," she started, putting a finger in your face. "Sitting around like always. I have had it with you!" You stood quickly out of instinct and opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off. "You're useless around here, so why don't you go into town and start selling yourself again. At least then you'd finally be carrying your weight!" 
Her words stung like branding, making your heart race and your eyes sting. The few people left at camp had gone quiet. Mary-Beth looked on nervously while Karen was glaring at the older woman. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you spoke faster than your brain could process.
"All you're good for is being an ugly, hateful bitch." As soon as the words left your mouth, she swung on you. It was a backhanded slap that stung and broke the barrier that was holding back your tears. You recoiled, holding your stinging face.
"Know your place, girl, before you end up somewhere worse than on your back. Now get!" She pointed towards the edge of camp.
"Screw you," you said, quickly wiping away a falling tear, "I'd rather fuck every man in town before I keep letting myself be treated like this." You stepped up to her, " Want me to leave? Well, I'm goin."
And you did. You collected what little belongings you had into a bag and charged out of camp, eyes forward and your head held high. Tilly and Mary-Beth tried to stop you, but you marched down the dirt path until they couldn't see you anymore.
"Look what you gone and did you old hag," Karen spat, "Oh, just wait til Mr. Morgan gets back. Bet you won't be so high and mighty then." 
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Arthur didn't ride in until sunset; he searched for you before even getting off his horse. His face fell confused by your absence, and just as he was about to inquire, Mary-Beth and Tilly approached. He knew instantly that something was wrong.
"What, what is it?" His eyes searched theirs. They looked at each other, silently debating who'd break the news to him. It was Tilly who stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Arthur's arm. She talked low and cautious, "Arthur, she—her and Ms. Grimshaw—they—" She was cut off by Karen and Ms. Grimshaw beelining towards them.
Karen's voice boomed, speech slurred. "Go ahead, tell 'em." She waved her beer-clutching hand between Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw, defiantly meeting Susan's gaze before tearing her eyes away to meet Arthur's. "That wench Grimshaw smacked her across the face and ran her out!"
Clenching his fist involuntarily, he leaned into Karen, talking low and steady. "The hell are you talking 'bout?" His chest was rising and falling quickly now.
Ms. Grimshaw stood resolute and waved him off. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Morgan. This is my camp, and these are my girls and my rules," she finished, arms crossed, staring at Arthur.
Stepping close, he imposed his broad figure on Ms. Grimshaw, flashing a smile that was anything but inviting. He took on a tone he rarely used with the women.
"Oh, Susan, that's where me and you disagree. This may very well be your camp, and you can make up all the rules you want, but she's my girl." His face had straightened into a scowl by the time he finished.
"Well, I'll—" she began incredulously, hands still on her hips, but Arthur threw up a halting finger.
"Look, Ms. Grimshaw, I respect how you run this camp, but that girl, she's off limits. Now, I'm gonna find her and bring her back, and you can raise all the hell you want, but if you lay a finger on her again—" 
"Arthur..." Tilly cut in warningly. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, ending his conversation with Susan. "Where'd she go?" he asked no one and everyone at the same time, speed walking to his horse.
"She took off down the road," Mary-Beth called out, but his horse was already kicking up dirt. Riding as fast as he could, he reached the nearest town at record speed. He hitched the horse outside the train station, forcing the doors open with his shoulder. The place went quiet, everybody focusing on the sudden disturbance. Arthur ignored the looks he was getting, scanning faces for yours. Spotting you took no time, and you stood as soon as you recognized him. He rushed to you, taking your hands in his; concern riddled his face— a rare sight. Guilt washed over you as you looked up into his eyes; you opened your mouth to speak, but he started before you.
"You alright?" he asked, looking you up and down. Dirt had stained the hem of your skirt, and your eyes were tired; his frown grew as he looked you over. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your head to his chest and nodding.
"Wasn't gonna go, just needed to get away for a while," you murmured into his chest. Rubbing your back soothingly, he exhaled with soft, relieved laughter. One arm still around you, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze with his free one.
"Don't you go walking out on us. Least without tellin' me first."
You agreed with a quick bob of your head, and he pulled your chin in towards his, kissing you on the mouth. He withdrew and gestured to the bench you'd risen from earlier; you both sat. Arthur wrapped a big arm around you, and you buried your face into his shoulder.
"That woman hates me," you grumbled with a pout. Arthur squeezed you closer, and a faint grin formed on his lips.
"Nah, she never liked any girl I brought around. Give her more time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's all outta love, I think," he concluded. You huffed at that, disbelieving.
"She got a funny way of showing it."
"Sure," he chuckled again. He sat for another minute before gently nudging you off his shoulder. Grabbing your bag and standing, he asked, "So you gonna come back with me?"
You tried to sulk but couldn't when he was standing there waiting patiently with his hand out. You finally relented. 
"Fine, but I ain't just gonna take it next time," you declared, taking his hand. A big smile stretched across his face. 
"You ain't gotta do nothing you don't wanna. If any of those fools have a problem with it, send 'em to me." You made your way out of the train station, hand in hand. You paused, gazing at him with a quirked eyebrow.
"I can handle myself just fine, Arthur Morgan." Another chuckle built up in him as he threw your bag on the horse. He turned to kiss the top of your head before grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up on the horse.
"I know, darlin'."
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spatialwave · 6 months ago
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“𝓪 𝓰𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵’𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹𝓮𝓻”
pairing: cooper howard/the ghoul x fem!reader word count: 1k summary: you’d proven to cooper that you were a tough young thing, a vault dweller with a bit of edge—and a thing for mean-mannered ghouls. you were quick to indulge in being his plaything. warnings: mdni! smut, dom!cooper, sub!reader, rough, degrading, withholding/edging, cooper is mean i’m not sorry! notes: these are getting too good ya’ll hehe, i hope you like it! this scene was inspired by @ghoulphile and their amazing cooper writings! please go check out their blog! 🧡
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when you first met cooper howard you had been doused in confusion, why the hell were you attracted to this… thing? not a human, but too handsome and sentient to be labelled as lowly as a ‘creature’. he couldn’t be wrangled into the likes of mutated animals, but you hadn’t met a ghoul before, so you didn’t know what to make of him. nor could you understand the way you’d grown slick between the thighs by only looking at him.
fascination struck when he settled striking eyes on you—soon forcing you along to seek out the information you’d gained through your years as a vault dweller.
and it’s not like you fit anywhere else anyway, even your vault allowed you to make way for the surface without an attempt to hold you back from your curiosity— you were stuck with nothing. not even a bottle of water to your name. so, if it meant having to suck up to a bounty hunting ghoul and beg for your life to stay afloat, then you could manage. you hadn’t any ounce of shame or pride, you were a prisoner to the wastelands.
a lover to a damned, 200-year old ghoul.
your face was shoved against the sandy floorboards of an old, battered saloon—destroyed and flimsy. one harsh rad storm and it would collapse into a corpse of a building that once held a proud number of guests before the war.
“cooper, fuck—“ you groaned, pain mixed with pleasure as your cunt burned.
the ghoul had stripped you completely, your vault jumpsuit tossed behind the broken bar, boots across the room and pip boy a few inches from your face. he left your naked body exposed to the cold night air, easy for him to ravage and indulge.
this was a constant repetition in your life now, when cooper was having a stressful day he took it out on you. the first time was near-frightening, thinking that he might end up snapping you in half while fucking you with his revolver shoved into your mouth like a deathly, make-shift gag.
you loved it—it was fucking disgusting, and you craved it like a lowly whore, a term of endearment that came so lovingly from the ghoul.
“quiet down,” he hissed, gloved hand landing harshly against your ass so a loud smack echoed through the dilapidated building, “i’ll shove your panties in your mouth if you keep this up, whore.”
his cock was buried deep into your pussy, swollen and aching around his hardened length that pushed against the ring of your cervix. the fleshy muscle shooting pain through your hips and thighs with each thrust, uncaring if it was painful. large hands massaged the globes of your ass, covered in reddened marks and bruises that would make sitting down hard—it was rare you had that privilege, though. cooper had made sure you two were always on the move.
“maybe i want that, cowboy,” you giggled sloppily, fucked so dumb you could hardly think as you looked over your shoulder at the ghoul, his hazel eyes piercing into yours just under the brim of his hat. you hated that he kept himself mostly clothed during these rendezvous.
cooper groaned, eyes narrowing as his left hand kept your wrists pinned against your back—face rubbing raw against the floor every time his cock slid through your wet walls. he’d been the biggest you’d ever taken, not like you had much experience.
“you love talkin’ with that filthy, cocksucking mouth of yours, don’t you?” cooper groaned, hands tightening around your wrists as his hips snapped sharply against your ass.
to make sure your needs were taken care of, you bit hard onto your bottom lip to muffle any sounds that may escape your throat. it was difficult when his cock stretched you thin, rubbing raw inside you as tears gathered in your eyes and all you wanted to do was scream his name until your voice cracked and the dry, dusty air stung your throat. you clenched tight around his cock, hardly able to keep yourself up on your knees, and he could feel how close you were to collapsing.
“not yet, darlin’,” cooper mumbled, his free hand latching to your hip and pulling you back to your knees when you’d nearly collapsed. then, the same hand slipped around your hips, so his bare fingers rubbed at your swollen clit that had been neglected.
“coop—“ you whimpered, eyes daring to shut tight as he pounded into you mercilessly, barely hanging onto reality as you had begun to see stars while your eyes rolled back.
he fed off your soft mewls of pleasure as you tried so hard to keep quiet, a smirk tainting his lips as he watched with excited eyes and a newfound sense of vigor.
“you gonna’ cum on my cock, lil’ helper?” he whispered, leaning forward so his clothed chest pressed against your back and locked wrists, “say it and i’ll think about lettin’ you,” he huffed, voice coarse as his warm breath tickled the shell of your ear and his finger pulled away from your clit—pulling you away from the edge you’d nearly fell over.
“i’m gonna’ cum on your cock,” you slurred—whining desperately for more, “can i, cooper? please, i’ve been good,” you pleaded, forcing your eyes to focus so you could look at him. you’d been fighting off the coil of heat tightening in your lower gut, waiting so patiently for your lover to say yes like the darling love you were.
you bit back a gurgled moan, eyes shutting tight as he allowed a few, long seconds to pass before his finger rubbed tight, fast circles on the sensitive bud, “go on then,” he breathed low, lips parted as he waited for your release.
all it took was for you to relax your body, then the pleasure soared through you like an explosive. cooper pulled himself upright and let go of your wrists so you could cover your mouth with your delicate fingers—moaning a saliva-filled mess into your hand while you came. every thrust sent your head swirling, sending your body into flames as his radiated body took one final snap of his hips before he spilled deep inside and felt the stress of the day vanish into thin air.
you were certainly this ghoul’s helper.
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thesunisatangerine · 7 months ago
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playing for keeps – chapter three
alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader
warnings: coarse language, light angst
(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]
word count: 8.8k
[1]
Just before you turned thirteen your body, finally, began to change. 
While Alexia’d gone ahead of you a year prior—with her limbs now lanky and sinewy, and her muscles stretched close to the newly grown bones—you were left behind. She’d grown taller, yes; not by much but the two-inch difference (two and a half, as Alexia was always inclined to remind you) felt like a foot to you. So the change was welcome when it finally started, and more importantly, it happened to coincide with something that completely altered the trajectory of your life.
During the spring after your birthday, your father got a promotion at work. To celebrate this milestone, he took you and your mother for a trip around Europe. And as a gift for your hard work and for getting into La Masia with Alexia just a few months before, your parents surprised you with tickets to at least one game in the country, or area, you were visiting. 
In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny. 
Or at least that was how you liked to look at it. 
Before seeing the match between Schalke 04 against Stuttgart, the idea of keeping never entered your mind; you’d played forward your whole life, and you thought that would be the position you’d play in professionally. But as you saw Manuel Neuer controlling the outcome of the game with his hands, a spark ignited within you—this overwhelming surge—and right there and then, you were enlightened to the art of keeping. That spark returned home with you and, playing into the hands of fate, your journey to keeping began.
[2]
The crescendo of the cicadas’ song was this close to lulling you to sleep. It didn’t help that Alexia’d curled herself up beside you in your bed, her head on your lap while her math notebook laid forgotten at the foot of the bed, and her eyes already closed. It was a rare occurrence for the both of you and even more so for Alexia to ‘slack off’—if you were to put it as Alexia had—but this afternoon was a particularly hot one. Summer had practically bled into spring, and even someone like Alexia clearly wasn’t immune to its soporific effect. 
The numbers from the homework you were working on began to blur when you heard a knock downstairs. Out of curiosity or just surprise, you snapped awake. And so did Alexia, apparently.
“You expecting someone?” Alexia yawned, stretching out her long limbs before settling over to her other side. The movement made a lock of hair fall to her cheek which you brushed away with the back of your finger.
“No, it’s probably Mamá’s.” You hummed in answer, relaxing down on your pillow to finally chase that nap that continued to tempt you.
But then came your mother’s voice, “Guille! Hello, my boy! How are you?”
Alexia let out a startled yelp when you jumped out of the bed, now fully awake, tripping on the rug as you rushed into the closet. 
“What the hell? What are you doing?!” Alexia hissed with annoyance but you were too busy trying to get changed to address it. 
You snatched the closest pair of shorts and jersey shirt, and began to shed the ones you had on before you slipped the fresh ones on in quick succession. 
As you did, you began to explain, “I completely forgot! I was supposed to meet up with Guille today!”
When your head popped out of your shirt, you found a deep crease between Alexia’s brows. She was sitting in the middle of your bed, cross-legged, looking very much like a disgruntled cat woken from a nap with the way her hair stuck out in odd places. 
She looked adorable. 
You bit your tongue before you could say it.
Crossing her arms, Alexia retorted, “Why? It’s Saturday.” 
The tone she used made it seem that today being a Saturday was a valid enough reason for you to not go. 
“And it is because it’s Saturday—and no training, Alexia—that I can go with him.” 
At that, her frown only seemed to deepen. You had half a mind to tease her but you knew that’d probably just piss her off even more, although if you were being honest, you didn’t understand just why this seemed to bother Alexia so much.  So instead of teasing, you tried a placating tone, “You could come with if you want?”
Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”
Your mother’s shout cut through the air. 
“Honey? Guille is here for you!” 
You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance. 
“I’m really sorry! Please stay for dinner! I’ll be quick!” 
And with a quick hug goodbye, you rushed out of your room and practically flew down the stairs. At the bottom, you found Guille leaning against the bannister, hands in his short pockets, with a small rucksack on his back who, upon seeing you, gave you a bright smile.
“Hey! You look—” He began but then suddenly, his eyes darkened and the quirk of his lips turned upside down, his tone flattening, “Oh. You’re here.”
In the same second you noticed Alexia beside you, Alexia’d slung an arm over your shoulders.
“Lovely to see you as always, Guille. And I could say the same about you.” Alexia deadpanned, flashing Guille a smile full of teeth, her eyes void of any warmth as she stared at him down her nose. Then she turned to you, her face lighting up as she asked with a little too much excitement, “So, are we going or not?”
“Wait, she’s coming with us?” Guille blurted out, but before you could even answer, Alexia left your side and ran down the steps. 
“Of course, Guille! Come on, keep up!” Alexia exclaimed on her way out of the door, tapping Guille’s stomach as she did—not without force apparently with the way Guille expelled air out harshly. 
When you got to him, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 
“Are you okay?”
He let out a strained, “Yes.”
You gave Guille an apologetic look, grabbing your ball bag. 
“I’m really sorry for the last minute change. I’ll make it up to you.”
Still clutching his stomach, he said, “Don’t worry about it.”
The three of you got to the field near your place—which you were glad to find empty—without any more incidents. You were faced with another problem as it was only after you’d begun warming up that you realized that in your haste to leave, you forgot to bring water with you. When you told Alexia, she offered to go to the nearest corner store to buy some.
You stretched as you waited for Alexia’s return when Guille suddenly said behind you.
“Here.”
Turning, you found him holding a paper parcel bag. You considered his outstretched hand with curiosity before you met his eyes, taking the bag from him slowly. “What’s this?”
“Just a little something to get you started,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “You said you wanted to keep, so I thought you’d need them.”
Peering into the bag, you gasped at what you found inside. 
A new pair of keeper gloves.
“Guille, you didn’t have to!”
He shrugged, smiling, “Yeah, but I wanted to anyway.”
“Thank you! Come here, you big baby!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him. Unlike Alexia, Guille was only taller than you by mere centimeters so it was relatively easy to ruffle his hair as you pulled away. 
“Mess up my hair again and I won’t teach you anything,” He threatened with a faux glare as he swept his fingers through his curling locks in an attempt to tame them. 
You rolled your eyes, grinning at him. “Okay, Antonio Banderas. So, what are the basics?”
He imitated you, rolling his eyes before he shook his head slightly, his smile never leaving his lips. Then he pointed to a spot by the goal line. “Put your gloves on and stand right there.”
You did, noting the way your new gloves fit perfectly over your hands and fingers. It felt different—stuffy—and you could already feel your palms beginning to sweat from the trapped heat. When you stood where Guille pointed, he walked around you all the while he instructed you to correct your posture: he told you keep your feet shoulder-width apart, to bend your legs slightly so that your chest was just past your knees, and to hold your palms facing out. 
“The main thing to worry about starting out is your stance. It will take time to get the balance right but once you get it down, you’re set.”
“Is this alright?” 
Guille took a step back and he gripped his chin as he hummed. After a moment of scrutiny, he nudged you back suddenly. It wasn’t quite forceful but it made you tumble down on your rear all the same. 
You smiled at him sheepishly, getting up. “I guess that’s a no?”
“Yep. It looks like you keep your weight on your heels too much.” He crouched down at your feet, drawing a square over the front half of your foot. “Keep your weight spread out around here and you should—”
Guille scrambled back suddenly, yelping as a football went flying past where he was just a second ago and into the net. Turning to the direction where the ball came from with your mouth agape, you found Alexia there with water bottles clasped to her chest, an eyebrow raised, while one corner of her mouth was set in a bemused droop, another ball rolling beneath her left foot.
“What the hell was that for, asshole?!” Guille shouted as he stormed his way over to Alexia. He was in front of her now, looking up at her with flame in his eyes but Alexia remained unfazed. She put the water bottles down before she settled her hands on her hips, cocking her head slightly to the side. 
“I’m sorry, Guille. I didn’t see you.” Alexia said flatly, “And aren’t you supposed to be playing keeper?”
“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”
“Ale, I asked Guille to teach me.” You huffed, running in between them and separating them with your arms before things got out of hand—again. 
This wasn’t the first time this… row between them happened. In fact, you noticed it’s been occurring more frequently lately. For all their similarities—the main one being their short tempers—the two never got on well together for reasons you never really understood and the only thread that tied them together was you. 
They weren’t always like this though; they were nice with each other the first time they’d met. Guille transferred to your school not long after you’d joined Sabadell, and if you and Alexia were inseparable there, it was always you and Guille at school. And when an opportunity arose for your two favorite persons to meet, you took it. It went well; they were friendly with each other. You only noticed things had changed after you and Guille’s school team started playing against Alexia’s so you were never sure when this all started, and by that point, the friction between them was too great to smoothen out which both saddened and disappointed you.
And it wasn’t like you never tried to get to the bottom of it. You’d asked them what happened, they both gave similar answers. By that, you meant completely avoiding answering. 
Guille’d assured you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re friends? Don’t worry.” 
While Alexia’d said with a confused frown, “What do you mean? Nothing happened.” 
And when you pestered her, asked her if the reason was because she liked Guille as a joke, she looked at you without reply, and when next practice came, she made a nuisance of herself enough to let you know the answer to your question and more. 
And here you were again, with them acting like this–always at each other’s throats. 
At your answer, Alexia looked at you, confused. “Why would you ask him to teach you how to keep?”
Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.
Maybe you should’ve told her after all… 
Mustering up the courage to meet her eye again, you replied, low and serious. “I want to start playing keeper, Alexia.” 
Alexia blinked, and then she crossed her arms before she eyed Guille who was scowling at her in return. She looked at you again. 
“Have you told Alejandro about this?”
“Yes.” 
“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”
“I’ll still start as a forward. But he said he’ll put in some extra technical sessions for me starting next week which was why I asked Guille to help me get started. Alejandro said if I get good enough, he’ll see if I can start as keeper for the team.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over you three. 
You caught Guille’s eyes darting from you to Alexia and back again from the corner of your eyes but you remained focused on Alexia’s face. At a glance, Alexia might seem calm—impassive with the way all of her features remained flat. But her eyelids drooped just so they hid more than half of her pupils, how her lower lip was slightly concealed beneath the upper one; she was pissed and even worse, she was hurt. And knowing that you’d hurt her was enough to compel you to reach out and touch her arm, apologetic.
Alexia regarded you for a moment longer. Another word of apology was on the tip of your tongue when she finally sighed, the corner of her lips tilting up to a half-smile as she spoke softly. “Okay. How can I help?”
You couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around her and it felt like a weight was lifted from your chest upon hearing the chuckle she let out.
The next couple of hours were spent with the three of you working together: Guille by the goal who continuously gave you notes and instructions, while Alexia—upon Guille’s signal—would send some shots to the net so you could try and stop them. The first… fifty or so shots went right past you—going easy was never exactly Alexia’s strong suit—but the more you focused on getting the timing right and reading the language of Alexia’s body to anticipate the direction of the ball, you ended the session with a few decent saves. 
It was a rough start but you were satisfied with it.
You’d left to use the restroom but upon coming back, the two of them were bickering once more.
Oh, no. What was it now?
You heard more of their words the closer you got, but you didn’t have to move too close with the way they were shouting.
“Come on, dude! Please, don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that? It was a fair match!”
“How was that fair, Alexia? The two of you playing together is never fair! You’re both in La Masia for crying out loud! And even more importantly, she was supposed to be on my team! That was the original plan, but you went ahead and took her away!”
“What made you think I took her away?” Alexia crossed her arms, scoffing. “Let’s face it. She likes to play with me more than you.”
“You don’t know that!”
That was the moment Alexia spotted you and before you could even get a word in, she said, “Why don’t we just ask her who she’d rather play with?”
Two sets of intense eyes looked your way and without meaning to, you gulped, taking a step back.
“So? Who would you rather play with: me or her?” Guille asked, eyes wide and pleading. 
Suddenly feeling like you were backed into a corner, you stammered in your panic, “Umm, I—”
[3]
Alexia stayed over for dinner that night. That was normal; what was unusual was she left you alone to do the dishes. You had a feeling where she might be, especially since she’d been mostly quiet throughout the whole evening.
After you put away the last dish in the cupboard, and when your arms were finally free from suds, you took a peek into the living room. She wasn’t there—a confirmation of her whereabouts.
Putting on your flip flops, you headed out of the back door. 
The light from the living room casted a faint glow that dissipated the darkness around the garden when you opened the door that led out to it, aiding you just enough to see Alexia on the swing, sitting still with her back hunched forward. Once you were just a few paces behind her, you saw the contours of her headset, but even with them on, there was no way she didn’t know you were there—the fact that your shadow stretched to reach her before you did was a dead give away. Yet still, she made no move to acknowledge your presence.
Okay. That was fair.
“Ale,” you said softly. 
She gave you a glance before she went back to looking down at her clasped hands. 
“Alexia, come on.” 
Still no response. You fiddled with your thumbs as the moment dragged on. 
You sighed, sitting down on your heels next to her.
“I should’ve told you about the keeper thing,” you muttered. “I wanted to get a feel for it first, to get a bit better at it before I told you. But I didn’t consider how that would make you feel… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want or need you by my side, Alexia. I wanted you to think I was good enough for this.” 
Finally, Alexia turned to you, taking her headset off, the movement barely above a whisper. And softly, she spoke, “What made you think that I’ll think you’re not good enough for anything?”
“I don’t know.” You admitted, pulling at the grass in front of you. Your mother would probably see the hole you’d made on the lawn and berate you for it in the morning but you needed something to keep your hands busy. “I just wanted to go through this without too many expectations. And it’s not like I don’t want to keep our dynamic going. I love playing forward with you, Alexia, but I think keeping is my calling, just like midfield is to you.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. You didn’t want any added pressure. I’m not going to hold that against you.” 
“Thank you,” you smiled at her. Then, “So, tell me why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking!” Alexia huffed with indignation. Then she looked away again, working her lower lip between her teeth.
You put a hand on her knee. “Alexia, what is it?”
“I…” Alexia sighed, brushing the bridge of her nose with her thumb. You gave her another moment. She heaved another breath before she began.
“That thing you said… Did you really mean it when you said you’d rather play with him than me?”
Oh. So that was what this was about.
“Of course not. We both know it’s always going to be you, Alexia.”
“Then why did you tell him that?”
“I feel like if I didn’t, I’d lose him as a friend.”
“And you’re not worried about losing me?” Alexia cried out, her tone inflected while her eyes reflected her hurt.
You blinked at her. 
There were moments—just like now—where you’d feel a sudden urge to shake Alexia. For all her sharpness and unmatched awareness, she sometimes failed to see even the most obvious of things. Couldn’t she see that you loved her and that you’d follow her to the edge of the earth if she asked you to?
At the absurdity of her question, you really couldn’t help but laugh. You stood up and shuffled behind her before you threw your arms around Alexia’s neck, draping yourself over her broad back, which made the swing move forward. The dampness of her hair felt cool against your cheek, the scent of your shampoo that clung to them filled your senses as you chuckled into her ear. 
“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”
“Because, Alexia, do you hear yourself? I love you, you idiot!” You giggled again. “I know our friendship isn’t that shallow that I’d lose you over this. Or am I wrong?”
Alexia turned her head and you saw a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, I suppose not.”
A pleasant silence blanketed you both. And then Alexia hummed.
“But if there was something that could break us, what do you think it would be?”
You stopped to ponder, twirling a lock of Alexia’s hair with your finger, noting her hair was nearly dry now. When your mind drew blank, you replied nonchalantly, “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Good.” Alexia leaned away so she could give you a lopsided smile—an earnest one. “Because me neither.”
[4]
“—you okay?”
You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”
She glanced at you for a moment before she turned back to what she was doing, sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed a plate in the soapy water in the sink.
“I said, are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’ve been out of it since practice.” When a moment of silence lapsed, Alexia added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you on your swing the past few days, too, because I did.”
You looked out the window and watched how the rain sluiced down the glass pane. In the darkness behind the window, you saw glimpses of soaked, curly locks and heard the hasty confession all over again.
You sighed, blinking the memory away.
“Guille asked me out.”
The sound of glass shattering and metal clanging made you jump, and you watched as a casserole pot twirled like a top on the hard, kitchen floor, while fragments of a broken plate skittered out to different directions. 
“Oh, shit!” Alexia cursed, looking down at the mess, while a voice called out from the living room. 
“Alexia, is everything alright in there?'' Came Eli’s voice. A few seconds later, Jaume’s head popped into the kitchen. He glanced at you then his eyes settled on Alexia who was crouched down, looking up guiltily at her father.
“Are you okay, girls?”
“Yes, Papá. I just… dropped some stuff.” Alexia said. You crouched down, too, about to pick up a fragment when Jaume spoke.
“Don’t pick that up, love, you might cut yourself. I’ll do it.” 
Jaume shooed the two of you to a corner he deemed safe and the both of you watched as he picked up the pieces, throwing them in the bin by the back door. Afterwards, he gave Alexia a kiss on her temple, and you a hug and a ruffle to your hair, as he retired for the evening, leaving the two of you again in your own company. Alexia went back to the sink to finish up whatever was left, and you returned to your place on the counter beside her. 
The silence that intruded was cut short by Alexia when she cleared her throat, “So… what did you say?” 
“I haven’t said anything, yet,” you sighed again, looking back out the window, the questions coming back full force. In the eight years you’d known Guille, how long had he harbored those feelings for you? When did it happen? What did you do to make him feel that way?
“Do you like him?” Alexia’s question brought you back to the present.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want him?”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” You laughed slightly, glancing back at Alexia who shrugged her shoulders in answer.
“No, I don’t think so. Desire is a drive, like it makes you want to act. Attraction is just… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a weaker feeling. And they complement each other but they’re not the same.”
“And you know this how exactly?” You asked her teasingly, a brow raised.
Alexia averted her eyes, and shrugged your question off with a laugh.
In the moment of silence that followed, you traced Alexia’s profile, and your gaze ended at the elegant curve of the bow of her lips. She looked so pretty casted in the candescent glow of the kitchen light that it made your chest ache just by looking at her. You dropped your eyes to your feet as your mind ran faster than before this entire conversation happened.
Clutching your arms tightly across your chest, you muttered, “I don’t know what I want.” 
[5]
Maybe hoping it would all turn out fine was a bit naive because naturally, Guille didn’t take your rejection well. It was your fault really for expecting otherwise but nevertheless, the inevitable discomfort of disappointment settled like lead in your gut. 
The thing was, you were ready to give Guille the space he needed to accept your boundaries—friends, or nothing at all—and to heal. But accusing Alexia of making you turn against him? Now, that was something you couldn’t let pass. 
He knew he’d crossed a line, too, with the way he kept avoiding you. At first, the silence didn’t bother you; he was hurt, after all. But when the apology never came, you understood that you’d be going through your last year of high school without your closest friend there by your side.
A fortnight passed without any word from him so it surprised you when he showed up at the local meetup that the three of you used to go to. He refused to meet your eyes but he had no problem leveling with the glares Alexia kept giving him. And when you ended up in Alexia’s team, the only sign of his distaste about it was the way his lips flattened to a line. He looked like he was about to say something, but with a slight shake of his head, he turned around and made his way to his teammates.
With one last look at Guille’s retreating back, you tuned back in your team’s conversation.
“—doesn’t need to play keeper. We need her more in the offensive.” Alexia said evenly but when you met her eyes, there was a clear question in them. 
You gave her a slight nod to let her know you were okay. 
She nodded back.
“How will that work? She’s the better keeper.” And then Marco added, “No offense, Julia.” 
Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.
“Julia is perfectly fine and besides, with you, Benji, and Carmen, our backline is already strong. The four of you together lessens our chance of conceding.” Alexia paused, looking over her shoulder to the other team before she faced you all again, continuing, “Our priority is the offensive. What good is a strong backline if we can’t counterattack? That’s why I’m suggesting she play as forward in the meantime, while Martina and I will play as interiors. Does that make sense?”
A collective nodding occurred.
“So just to clarify, we’re playing three–two–one?” Benji asked.
Alexia hummed, nodding her head. “Mostly. If we find the space and some opportunities, we can easily do three–one–two.”
“No pressure on us defenders, right?” Carmen said with a laugh, if not with a hint of nerve. 
Everyone laughed but at the end of it, Alexia placed a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “No pressure because you guys, as I said, are very strong. You got this.”
Carmen smiled at Alexia at that, nodding before she finally moved to her spot. As you and Alexia moved towards the middle of the pitch, Guille was introduced to your line of sight, and a weight pressed in your gut. Disappointment? Perhaps. Or maybe you just actually missed talking and hanging out with him.
Alexia’s teasing tone pulled away your attention from Guille.  “I hope you haven’t forgotten how to play forward from all the keeping you’ve been doing.”
“Four years of keeping against the five years of playing forward? You need to brush up on your math ‘cause I think you’ve forgotten how to count.” You said dryly, giving her a look so dirty that had her throwing her head back in laughter.
Alexia leveled you with an unimpressed look but her tone remained playful. “You are such a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?”
“Thank you. I do try, you know. It’s my only defense against your smart-mouth.”
“Stop denying you don’t like my teasing.” Alexia waggled her brows as she smirked. The way she looked just then—with both hands on her hips, the ball beneath her left boot—your throat dried, heart racing; a sensation that’d familiarized itself to you during its recurrent visits over the past few weeks. Your mind blanked out, clear as the white of Alexia’s shirt, and when no words came to you to retort back, you shook your head and just laughed. By the time the game started—or maybe it was because it started—the feeling finally went away, replaced by the adrenaline that shot through your veins the moment Alexia kicked the ball to you.
It proved to be a tight game. The main strategy of the opposition seemed to be to mark and shut you and Alexia down whenever the ball so much turned your way. Alexia was right to trust your backline: any counterattack from the other team was dealt with immediately, and Julia only needed to save a handful of shots that passed through your defense, which she handled well.
At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.
Alexia cut a diagonal through the box, taking two of the defenders as she did, freeing up the space just behind her. You knew what she was doing so you faked a sidestep, turning quickly to lose your marker, before you sprinted in towards the middle of the box. And as you anticipated, Alexia sent the ball back to you with a flick of her heel. Now, if you could just—
The ground tilted, and there was a moment where the whole world suspended. It lasted for less than a breath before everything—the sensations and sounds—came rushing back in.
You slammed to the ground. 
Air was squeezed out of your lungs from the impact, while your skull and teeth rattled within the confines of your skin; the taste of green, earth, and copper spread on your tongue. Muffled shouts and grunts filtered past the ringing in your ear but when you cupped a hand over your tender ribs, your resulting groan was all you could hear.
When you finally came to, Alexia’s face was over you, the doubled image of her finally merging into one. Her wide, hazel eyes looked on you with worry and you felt the warmth of her fingers as they grazed over your face: from your temples down to your cheeks which she took in a gentle cradle.
“Alexia?” You let out another groan as you turned on your back while Alexia helped you.
“Tell me where it hurts.”
There was a tension that constricted around the front part of your head, but you could feel the blood pulsing most on the side that collided with the ground. “My head… it hurts.”
“Okay, okay. Just lay down for now, I’ll get you…”
You seemed to have passed out after that because one moment you were lying on the fields, and the next you were beside Alexia on her living room couch. You had a vague recollection of being carried on Alexia’s back, but the feel of the strong plane of her shoulder against your cheek remained there, warm and comforting. 
And only then, after Eli gave you ice for your head, did you see the bruise that bloomed deep in the skin of Alexia’s jaw, just below her left cheek, and the scuffed knuckles of her right hand which were splotched with deep reds and purples.
You took her hand onto your lap, gently running over the ice for your head over her knuckles, while you looked at Eli sitting on the opposite couch with Jaume beside her. Eli’s face burnt redder than you’d ever seen before, while Jaume held onto her hand, circling his thumb over the top of it in an attempt to calm her down.
Alexia remained quiet the whole time, eyes casted down as she took her mother’s reprimanding words. There was the unmistakable shine of shame in them, her guilt, but also an unwavering quality that stood for what she did. At the end of it, Eli and Jaume hugged the both of you before letting you retreat into Alexia’s room as you waited for your parents to arrive.
Instead of getting on her bed with you, Alexia plopped down on the floor just by the foot of the bed, her back against the wooden bedframe. You regarded the back of her head, her neck curved downwards, and you suddenly felt the need to be close to her so you shuffled off her sheets, and got down beside her. 
“Thank you, but your mother was right, you know? You shouldn’t have done it, Alexia.” You mumbled, unfurling her fingers to rest on your knee so you could access more of her knuckles that way. Gently, you placed ice over it, but she still hissed in pain. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”
“Why not? He deserved it.” Alexia said evenly as she stared at the far corner of the room. “And before you start defending him, you didn’t see what I saw—what the rest of us saw. He didn’t even touch the ball—it was all feet. He meant to trip you up.” 
Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words—at how her action showed just how much you meant to her—but the discomfort in your gut marred the surge of your affection for her. 
You took a deep breath, sighed it out, and it tasted like disappointment. 
“Alexia, I appreciate the gesture, I do. But you can’t just hurt people just because they did something to me.” 
Alexia puffed her chest and proclaimed, “I can.”
“Stop that nonsense, Alexia. I mean it.” Firmer now, you said, and there was a hint of desperation in the intonation of your words. There was an urgent need to make Alexia understand the gravity of what she did, what future implications it held if what Eli and you told her didn’t sink in now. “Actions like this can jeopardize you, Alexia, and all the things you worked hard for. Do you understand that? What will Alejandro say when he sees you all bruised up next practice? And if I get tackled dirty during a game and I get hurt, would you risk a red card, or suspension, for behaving like this?”
Alexia became silent, the muscle in her jaw working, and when she turned to you with her mouth open and you spotted a defiant crease in her brows, you were quick to stop her.
“If the answer to that question isn’t no, Ale, I don’t want to hear it.” The sound of teeth clattering filled the air. She casted her gaze aside again, her cheeks growing a shade deeper. “Look at me, Alexia.”
When she kept her eyes glued to the floor, you dropped the ice pack to take her face in your hands. She flinched from the coldness of your fingers but as you looked into her eyes, rimmed with redness and framed by drooping eyelids, you found exhaustion and the shine of apology. You brushed away a matted lock of hair from the tail end of her brow.
“You have a good heart, Alexia, but you have to promise me. Please don’t do something like this again. Ever.” 
Alexia looked into your eyes, deeply as if in contemplation, and then she closed them. A moment later, she sighed, sagging into your touch as if a weight had left her shoulders, before she opened them again. 
“I promise.” 
This time, you believed her.
Smiling softly at her, you whispered, while you placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”
Settling into the moment, you rested your head against Alexia’s shoulder, her bruised hand in yours. In the brief silence before your father arrived to pick you up, Alexia spoke in an earnest tone that made your stomach flutter.
“I know you can handle yourself, but that won’t stop me from having your back.”
At her words, your heart felt like it would burst your chest open. And you should’ve known that this was where you’d end up—with her, it seemed inevitable anyway—because the years of you’d known Alexia flashed quickly before your eyes, and the memory stopped to this person beside you, haloed golden by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, and you were hit with a realization that took what little breath you had away.
You liked Alexia.
And, even more importantly, you want her.
[6]
When you got on the field in a Barça jersey for the first time after your return, you didn’t expect to be welcomed like you did. Jona subbed you on after the first half and as you left the tunnel, you heard the crowd chanting your name. The cheers made you feel excited, accepted and seen, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t pressure you at all.
It was originally intended for you to come on during the last twenty minutes, but seeing as Caro, Patri, and Alexia gave the team a comfortable enough lead, Jona decided to sub you on ahead of schedule. You didn’t see much action on your end though, something that you didn’t mind at all—a quiet defensive-third was the best kind. The midfielders kept the midline high to sustain pressure in the offensive-third, while the defenders maintained such a tight backline that any loose through-balls sent to the opposing runners were called offside. Of course, there were a handful of times when you needed to get out of your box to ping the ball back into the offensive, but other than that, it was quiet. When the match ended, you were satisfied that Barça had another clean sheet and four goals to add to the season tally.
For the celebration, you moved with your teammates around Estadi Johan Cruyff, and during the procession, you spied your parents, Eli, and Alba who was talking to a raven-haired woman you’d never seen before, clapping and cheering. Warmth filled you upon seeing your family in the stands again—such a scene was a luxury when you were in the States because plane tickets weren’t exactly cheap—and when you felt the familiar weight of Alexia’s arm slung over your shoulders, the fabric of her captain armband against the skin of your neck, it felt like a perfect homecoming.
Well, almost.
After you’d showered and changed to your casuals, most of the crowd had gone while some lounged about, one of which was the raven-haired woman Alba was talking to. When Alexia took her hand, you knew instantly, and your heart—damn your heart—dropped.
“This is Diana,” Alexia said after the both of them made their way to you. And if it wasn’t their intertwined hands that revealed what they were to each other, their gaze—saccharine when they met—made it all the more clear the nature of their relationship long before Alexia said the words, “my girlfriend.”
Diana beamed up at Alexia, her cheeks deepening in color before she regarded you again, sticking her hand out towards you to shake. Preceding the intention, you took her hand and when you did, Diana placed her other hand over yours, clasping your hand between her warm palms.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Alexia’s talked so much about you.” 
She did? Your eyes flitted to Alexia but when she shied away from that, you focused back on Diana’s face. She was stunning: with her high cheekbones carved to elegance, her brows following the perfect line of her temple, her full lips painted with a terracotta shade made deeper by the bronze of her skin, while her loose, straight, raven hair framed her face in such a way that accentuated the sharpness of her jaws. Her eyes were dark but still light enough to see the outline of her pupils, and they had an amiable shape that reflected her warm nature. And for some reason, her light brown eyes looked really familiar—
“Ah! My favorite cousin made it, after all! Although I’m not sure it was me you went to the game for!” Tori’s playful voice resonated in the near-barren corridor. Diana’s eyes flicked somewhere behind you—to Tori, you supposed.
“Don’t be like that, Tori, of course I came to see you, too!”
“Lies!”
Diana shook her head, laughing, as she took Tori in her arms. “Come here, you!”
In response, Tori said something in Portuguese that made Diana laugh. When they broke apart, Diana said, “Forget you? Never. Especially when I owe you one.”
“Owe her what?” Alexia asked with her brows creased with curiosity.
Diana took Alexia’s hand and squeezed it, looking up at Alexia with a gentle expression. “For giving us the chance to meet.”
“Damn right!” Tori exclaimed, putting both hands on her hips, as she grinned so wide that her dimple showed. Tori must’ve seen your confusion because she leaned in to whisper, “I brought Diana as my plus one for last year’s Ballon D’Or ceremony.”
You allowed your mouth to drop open before you smiled, letting out a small laugh that made your chest ache. “Ah, I see.”
“She kept complaining about going but now, aren’t you grateful I took you away from your precinct, Detective Beauregard?” Tori teased.
“She’s never going to let us live this down, will she?” Diana muttered dryly to Alexia but it was deliberately loud enough for all of you to hear. In response, Alexia threw her head back laughing. 
“You’re a detective? That’s amazing!” You said, impressed.
“Please, Tori’s exaggerating. I work in forensics. DNA analyst is the correct title.” Diana threw Tori a dirty look to which the other woman raised her shoulders in response. “It’s a whole different world compared to yours so—and please don’t let this get to your head, Tori—I am grateful I was able to step into it.”
Her eyes, still locked with Alexia’s, grew all the more soft.
“Get a room, you guys,” Tori said with a mock sound of disgust, and then she continued to mutter, “And to think that you’ve only been going out for four months… I don’t even want to think about how it will be like in another three months.”
At that, Alexia raised a brow and then, “Want to do some extra laps tomorrow?”
You and Tori knew Alexia was joking, but Tori being Tori, she spluttered, “That would be a hard no, Captain. I’ll just—Have a great night!” 
With that, she ran away, arms flailing behind her in an exaggerated manner as she hastily made her exit. The sight drew laughter from the three of you.
“We’re having dinner at Mamá’s, want to come over?” Alexia asked.
You shook your head, flashing a look at Diana, before you told Alexia,“Not tonight. I’m just about to head over to my parents’ as well.”
“Alright. But Alba’s going to ask about you, you know? I think she wants to hang  out with you.”
You laughed. “Tell her to text me. She’ll know what that means.”
“Is that something I should know about?” Alexia smirked.
Flatly, you retorted, “If it’s something that concerns you, I’d be telling you by now, right?” 
“You see what I have to deal with?” Alexia told Diana, almost whining.
Inching backwards, you said as dry as you could manage, “I’ll take that as my queue to leave, Alexia might start crying. She’s a crybaby, you know?” 
“Hey! I’m not—”
“No need to be embarrassed about it, Alexia. Be proud!”
Diana only laughed, saying, “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough for tonight.”
Nodding, you grinned at Alexia while she mouthed the word ‘bitch’ to you. In kind, you mouthed ‘smartmouth’ back. With a shake of her head and a smile, she gave you one last hug, and after a pleasant goodnight from Diana, the three of you parted ways.
You sent them a look over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the watch around Alexia’s left wrist. It glinted as they walked together down the corridor, hand in hand, looking as in love as any new couple would. 
The sight made you smile, but it felt heavy, and as if the universe wanted to rub salt to the wound, you found Patri outside the locker room when you turned around with a look akin to pity in her eyes.
[7]
The next day, Guille stopped by at your place. He’d given you notice a few days prior but even still, the moment you saw him behind the door, you squealed like you were ten again from your excitement. After you hugged him tight—he made a choking noise when you did to tease you—you held him at arm’s length to see what changes the last few months had done to him.
He looked different. Gone were the long, dark curls; now sheared close to his scalp that left only about an inch of length, his hair retained their luscious shine, their color still as dark as night. 
His scar—the one just by the tail end of his left brow—that used to see little light from the obstruction of his hair, now stood apparent and without meaning to, the day he got it came back to you: the bruised knuckles, ice-cold fingers, and the warm blush of a lamplight.
 And your chest ached a little.
Leading the conversation to the living room, the two of you ended up ordering takeaways—mostly for Guille’s benefit because you weren’t about to subject him to your football diet—and as you ate, the two of you caught up.
Guille was close to finishing his dissertation—the biomechanics of concussion in sport and its neurocognitive implications—and he was both excited and fearful about what would come next. He then talked about his girlfriend, Iris, smittenly if you might add. She was actually with him in the city, but his mother insisted she steal Iris for the day for some quality bonding, and you laughed at the repertoire of stories he’d relayed in great detail about his mother’s teasing of their relationship.
“When am I going to meet Iris?” You asked with a teasing tone.
He rolled his eyes, “Well, since you’re actually staying in Barcelona this time, we can arrange that.”
A pause, and then, “Is Alexia staying here, too, or are you here by yourself?”
“No, it’s just me here.”
“Oh. I thought the two of you’d be rooming again like—” Probably seeing your change in demeanor, Guille cleared his throat as he ate his pasta a bit too eagerly. “Speaking of, how is she?”
The question was casual but you knew it was anything but.
“She’s doing good, if not a little stressed. Our first Champions League game is just around the corner after all and it’s against Chelsea, so.” You shrugged to complete your thought. You knew what he was asking but you’d rather not talk about that.
His eyes could burn a hole on the side of your head by the way he stared at you in the silence that followed. Then he sighed deeply.
“She still doesn’t know.”
Tension filled every inch of your body and you shrank tight as a coiled spring. You stood up as you felt a sudden urge to get away from him, taking the used plates on the coffee table as a pretense to move from the couch to the sink.
“What’s it to you if she doesn’t know, Guille?” You asked flatly, rolling up your sleeves after you turned the tap on.
“I just want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”
“And who says I’m not?” Your tone was flat and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, Guille only gave you a pointed look.
Then he said softly, “She could make you happier and you know it.”
And there it was again, that look in his eyes that you just couldn’t stand. Gritting your teeth, you gripped the edge of the sink and your voice quaked when you spoke. “Please stop talking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” you tried to find the words but when they evaded you, you huffed and threw your hands up in the air. “Why are you making it sound like I have a chance?”
“Because you do! You’re the one who’s not giving Alexia a chance by not telling her.”
“Give me one good reason why I should.”
“She loves you.”
A pause.
“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. As much as your heart wanted that to be true, you knew otherwise.
“It’s really fucking not.” Guille countered.
“If she did, she wouldn’t have said what she did.” 
“People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”
“That can go the other way, too. Alcohol has a way of loosening what’s been bottled.”
“Oh, come on!” Guille scoffed. “You’ve known her since you were eight. You’ve been through thick and thin together! Do you really think she wanted you to leave?”
With the reminder, the memory sprung up on you and you could hear Alexia’s voice, grating and wrenching your heart raw again when you heard the words from her lips. You whirled around to face him, eyes burning.
“You weren’t there when she told me, Guille!” You breathed out sharply and then you continued, in a lower tone filled with resignation, you whispered as you buried your face in your palms. “You didn’t hear the way she said it. You didn’t—”
You choked on your words. 
After all this time, it was still too painful.
Darkness filled your vision but the tears escaped nonetheless, branding tracks down your cheeks. You heard the rustling of clothes followed by soft footsteps. Before you knew it, Guille’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and his familiar, comforting scent made you sink into the embrace.
“You’re right. I wasn’t there. But if you could forgive me for being an asshole and what I did to you, why can’t you do the same with her?”
You didn’t say anything after that, only clutched at his shirt a little tighter.
Guille kept quiet, too.
The both of you knew just the reason why.
[8]
“Did you see the news?” Jona asked as he kept the door open for you to an empty meeting room, closing it as soon as you’d gone in. 
Sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, you said, “I did.”
You saw it this morning and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t faze you. 
Jona nodded, taking the chair across the table from you. He put his clasped hands on the wooden surface and the way he tapped an erratic rhythm with his thumbs didn’t help your nerves.
“Lyon paid a hefty transfer fee for her and that makes me worried. I don’t know what Bompastor is planning to do with her but her transfer to the European league will be a concern for the club.” With a pensive crease appearing between his brows, he continued. “You probably know why I asked you to come in.”
“You want me to tell you what I know about her.”
He nodded, leaning forward as if to emphasize his point. “She’s a lethal forward and you’re the only one in the club who’s ever played with her. In fact, you two seemed very close during your time in Angel City.”
You crossed your arms, leaning back into your chair, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
Jona blinked at you.
Then slowly, “Surely you must’ve trained closely together considering she’s a forward and you’re a keeper? Unless training was vastly different in Angel City, then I’m sorry for the assumption.”
“O–Oh, I thought you were implying—” You shook your head, uncrossing your arms as you waved the rest of your sentence away. “Never mind. But yes, that’s right.”
Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again. 
“She’s going to be a big problem. And that’s why I’m going to change things up a bit. I want to put you in the starting lineup as soon as possible—put as many games with our current team under your belt. We’ll most likely face Lyon in the Quarters and that’s unfortunate but what is great is that you’re here: the best counter to what Lyon acquired. If we could eliminate Lyon early, we have a higher chance of winning this year’s Champions League. The question is, are you ready for it?”
“That’s what I’m here for, Jona.” You said seriously, ignoring the pressure that pressed in the periphery of your mind.
“Use me.”
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euphoricfilter · 8 months ago
Note
HIIII GIRLY. I saw your drabble game anddd how about
"How could we ever just be friends" + yoongi djskskjs
just friends:
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pairing: yoongi x gn! reader
genre: fluff || mild hurt with a lot of comfort || non-idol au
summary: maybe you were never just friends
word count: 1.2k
tags/ warnings: feelings, fluff, the smallest hint of hurt, they’re actually just really in love and the m/c is slightly oblivious but yoon is a big old sweetheart
notes: OMG HEY!!!!! you didn’t ask for a specific au so i did indulge slightly and made it fluffy and soft, hope you like it :D
drabble masterlist || all my other works
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
There had always been something utterly unique about Yoongi’s existence in your eyes. He had been the first, and only person whose life had meant anything to you.
You’d spent most of your life aimlessly wandering, taking each day as it came and only hoped it would get better the more you trudged through. Fingers letting go of the ropes of friendships you’d made and lost—people you didn’t pay any mind to now that they weren’t in your life.
You didn’t miss them. Never thought of them unless they were right in front of you, if they never made themselves known.
But Yoongi had been different.
It didn’t take his physical presence for you to wonder how he was doing. He didn’t need to message first for you to ask how his day was. Dreams filled with another reality, what the two of you would be doing the next time you met, how sweet your name sounded from his lips. Or that sweet smile he would give you every time you stumbled over your words, too caught up in his eyes your brain malfunctions and you forget how to speak.
Thoughts consumed by him, feelings wrapping around the idea of his existence, soul dancing around his in this weird push and pull, not quite just friends but not really anything more.
Special, precious, perfect, Yoongi.
In all your years alive you’d never had a crush until that first moment you met. Never once thought of another human being in any other way that wasn’t platonic. It felt as though part of your world had started to crumble to moment, you’d acknowledged how you truly felt about him, stuck in this endless dilemma. Because who were you meant to tell him about your feelings when he was your closest friend? What if he asked who it was? He knew you rarely went out, and you sure as hell would have told him if you’d gone on any dates. So, you’d been stewing in your own feelings for as long as you can remember, too scared to utter a word about what was really happening between the two of you.
Because, sure his touches lingered, warm skin pressed against one another until the heat has travelled to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him, too scared he’d see how flustered you were. And sure there was the nicknames, though that was something he’d started early on, and you had doubts he fell in love just as quickly as you did.
Sometimes it felt like he only smiled at you, and yet you could only assume it was because you were his best friend, a safety net for him as much as he was one for you.
But not once had he made it obvious he liked you any more than a friend. A fact you’d slowly decided you could live with.
Just like yourself, it wasn’t very often Yoongi went on dates, you don’t think he’s been on one in the time you’d been friends. Which makes this whole dilemma slightly easier to swallow, because at this moment in time you were probably the most important person in his life.
You got to live out your secret little fantasy, and he got a low maintenance friendship. The perfect exchange.
And truly you believed it would be like this forever, until that little dream in the forefront of your mind was shattered by someone else coming into his life, and the two of you slowly drifting apart.
That was until tonight.
It wasn’t often you drank, never indulged in the fine whiskeys Yoongi would bring over to your place, stashed away in the cupboard when he wanted a little something before bed. However, Yoongi had come over with a cocktail making kit, saying he’d done some research because he knew how much you liked sweeter drinks.
And maybe you’d had a few too many, eagerly asking him to make you different drinks from the little book he had, excited as you watched him mix everything together. Utterly amazed by how good everything he made tasted.
You can’t remember what you’d said, words tumbling out your mouth quicker than you could swallow them back down. The small, sane part of your brain slowly catching up to what was happening as you watch Yoongi’s face morph into something slightly more surprised.
“How could we ever just be friends?” he shakes his head, scooting closer to you on the couch.
“Because you don’t like m—”
He holds a finger up to your lips, quick to silence you.
“Don’t finish that”
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, “but Yoongi—”
He takes hold of your hands, thumb running over delicate skin as he looks at your face.
“No” he shakes his head, “listen to me for a moment, yeah?”
He’s calm, voice tender and smooth.
You nod.
“You’re not forcing me into anything” he starts, “I thought I was being too pushy with you”
You swallow.
“Huh?” your eyes widen slightly, “But I could have sworn you didn’t like me more than a best friend”
The low rumble of a laugh vibrates from his chest, “Best friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you. They don’t hold your hand on days out, or wish they could kiss you when you make that sweet little face when you first wake up in the morning”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur, “I really thought—”
“And why didn’t you tell me, hmm?” he smiles, “feelings are weird.”
You nod, outburst having helped you sober up slightly.
“What now?” your legs bounce a little, so far out of your comfort zone.
“Whatever you want” he reassures.
“I’m scared” it spills past your lips before you can think about it.
He tilts his head slightly in question, “About what? Commitment?”  
You shake your head, frantic “I just—I don’t know what to do I’ve never dated a person before”
He gives you a gentle smile, “Just be you. Just like you are now, that’s all I want”
“But what if I want a kiss?” you inch a little closer to him.
“Then I’ll give you a kiss”
“What if I wanted a kiss when we go out to dinner with your friends?”
He laughs, “Doesn’t matter when or where, I’ll always be willing to give you a kiss if that’s what you please”
You chew on your bottom lip.
“I’ve never actually kissed anyone before” you say, shoulders losing their tension, because now this felt normal. Like how it always was with Yoongi, where you didn’t need to have secrets or be scared about what he thought. Because for all the time you’d known him, he had always been by your side, and you hope it will stay like that for the rest of time.
“Then I’ll teach you” he hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “Try not to worry your pretty little head too much, I know what you’re like”
“But—” you worry.
“Nope” he laughs, “We’ll work through this together like we do everything else, I’m always here for you, you know that right?”
Your eyes flicker between his for a moment, words settling into your soul as you nod.
“And I’ll always be here for you too, just so you know” the corners of your lips curl up into a smile.
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edenesth · 11 months ago
Text
The Way to His Heart [1]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2
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Park Seonghwa.
As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.
For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.
But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.
In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.
But he was more than fine with it.
The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.
One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.
You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.
His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.
Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.
Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.
And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.
The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.
This time would be no different.
"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.
The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.
Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."
He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"
The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."
That was enough to silence him.
He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.
But what choice did he have?
None.
"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.
His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."
"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."
Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.
As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.
"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.
Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.
He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.
Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."
Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."
Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.
More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.
All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.
Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.
"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.
"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.
The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"
Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"
The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.
Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.
Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.
Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?
That, you'll never know the answer to.
You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.
Life has been nothing but hell ever since.
No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.
All you could remember was pain.
Endless pain all throughout your childhood.
In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.
Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.
No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.
So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.
Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.
You struggled to figure out where to sit.
Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.
You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.
"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."
You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.
"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."
Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.
"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.
But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"
Oh.
Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.
"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."
Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.
You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.
Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.
After all, you had had enough of this life.
On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.
The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"
Oh.
That made sense.
Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?
Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.
"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?
But this was only temporary.
You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.
How much worse could it get?
After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?
One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.
With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.
Happiness?
You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.
Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?
Perhaps not.
Well, now they might.
Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.
Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.
But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."
Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"
Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.
Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."
You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"
He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."
That hurt.
Why did it hurt?
It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.
"You want happiness? Find it with him then."
« Preview of Part 2 »
The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"
The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."
The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"
With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."
Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."
Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.
"Only the best for future Lady Park."
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I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.
Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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act-nat-ural · 12 days ago
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Gifts (And Feelings) Exchanged
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When the Karasuno boys’ volleyball team decided to organize a Secret Santa, you were initially excited. You love the players and your fellow managers, and you were looking forward to picking something out for them. That was, until you picked Tsukishima’s name out of the hat.
You gulp and give a nervous smile before walking back and sitting down next to Yachi. She gives you a sheepish smile.
“Do you already have an idea of what you’re going to get him?” she asks.
You groan internally. “Zero clue.”
She raises her brows in surprise. “Really? I would’ve thought otherwise, considering you’ve been on the team longer than me. N-Not that I meant that in a bad way!” She starts to apologize, but you cut her off.
“It’s okay—it’s just…” You groan. “I don’t even know what he likes.” She hums thoughtfully. “Wanna see who I got?”
“You don’t have to show me—” she starts, but you hand over the slip of paper.
She lets out a quiet “Ohhh.”
“Yeah, I see the dilemma.”
You and Kei had a… certain relationship, to say the least. You provide him with minor feedback; he calls you rude names. It’s all very pleasant. The worst part of it all is, you love the banter. At first, you dreaded practice, but over time, you started looking forward to seeing his stupid, gorgeous face. You think Tadashi might be onto you, too, because last week, when he and Kei started to walk off, he turned and gave you a thumbs-up for some reason. Weird.
You sigh again and stare at Kei’s name on the paper. “What to get you?” you mutter.
Kei hated buying gifts for people. It felt much too personal—especially when it was for people he hardly knew. He could stomach buying a birthday present for his family or maybe Tadashi, but his teammates? No thanks. When he drew your name out of the cheaply made Santa hat, he frowned. He crumpled the paper and immediately walked back to sit next to Tadashi.
“Who’d you get, Tsukki?” Tadashi asked.
“That would defeat the whole purpose of the ‘secret’ in Secret Santa, Tadashi,” Kei replied snarkily.
As Tadashi starts rambling on about what he’s thinking of getting Hinata, Kei’s mind begins to drift—specifically, to his favorite manager. While he would rather die than admit it, he truly enjoyed the banter between the two of you. At first, you were a bit shy and didn’t want to talk back to him, but over time, you started giving him hell. And he loved every second of it.
“Tsukki? Are you thinking about—”
A quick smack shuts Tadashi up.
“Shush,” Kei mutters.
As the days go by, both you and Kei find yourselves with a bit of a problem. Trying to find the perfect gift for each other is harder than either of you expected, especially since you’re both determined not to go the predictable route. You’d die before giving him something as generic as a water bottle or some volleyball gear—Kei deserves something personal, even if he’d never admit to liking it.
Finally, after a lot of thought (and some input from Yachi and Tadashi), you settle on a gift: a small, framed photo of the team celebrating their last win, with Kei in the background, a hint of a smile on his face. You remember catching that rare moment and thinking how nice it would be to remind him of it. You also throw in a mini potted cactus, with a tiny note that says, “Even prickly plants can grow if you give them some light.” You can’t help but laugh at the idea, knowing he’ll probably roll his eyes at the cheesy note, but maybe… just maybe, he’ll like it.
Meanwhile, Kei is just as stuck. He considers a sarcastic, borderline rude gift but somehow can’t bring himself to go through with it. Instead, he finds himself at a music store, almost embarrassed as he searches for something you’d like. Finally, he picks out a simple pair of high-quality earbuds, with a note that says, “For when you need to block out annoying people.” He cringes at his own softness but tells himself it’s fine. It’s practical, he reasons. Nothing more.
The day of the Secret Santa gift exchange arrives, and you’re doing your best to act casual as you hand Kei his present. He takes it with an unreadable look on his face, his usual cool and indifferent expression firmly in place.
As he opens it, you see his lips twitch upward for just a second at the sight of the cactus and the note. But he quickly clears his throat, trying to play it off as uninteresting. “Very… thoughtful,” he says, not meeting your gaze. His eyes linger on the photo frame for a moment, and you’re almost sure he’s touched, even if he won’t say it.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms and looking away to hide your own embarrassment. “Don’t get too sentimental on me, Tsukishima.”
“Please. I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, though you both know he’s trying not to smile.
Then, it’s your turn. Kei hands you a small box, and you open it to find the earbuds. At first, you blink in surprise, then read his note and can’t help laughing. It’s such a Tsukishima thing to say, and somehow, that makes it all the more endearing.
“Thanks, Kei,” you say, softening a bit as you look up at him. “I’ll make sure to use them when you’re being especially irritating.”
He smirks. “That’s probably wise.”
There’s a beat of silence, and both of you look away, unsure of what to say next. Practice is wrapping up, and everyone else is getting ready to leave. You clear your throat and try to act nonchalant.
“So, uh… do you want to grab something to eat after this?” you ask, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I mean, since we’re… already here and all.”
Kei’s eyebrows raise, and for a split second, he looks genuinely surprised. But he quickly regains his composure, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sure,” he says with a shrug. “I guess I could tolerate your company a little longer.”
You roll your eyes, smiling. “How generous of you.”
As you both head out together, walking a little closer than usual, you feel a warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the winter cold. You both can’t help but be happy with what your secret santa got you- somebody to be with.
note: i know it’s early november but i want it to be christmas already 😭
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muzanswaifu · 1 year ago
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Out of Options
Sugardaddy!Toji x Fem!Reader
18+
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You needed money. He wanted free use. You weren't past making an exchange... until he started to get cheap. What else was a girl to do?
5k Words
Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @mrskokushibo !!!
Sfw Warnings: Sugar Daddy Toji, Sugar Baby Reader, Themes of prostitution, Angst, Bad Communication, Toxic Relationships, Creepy Old Men, Misogyny, Toxic Work Environment, Jealousy
Nsfw Warnings: Smut, Hints of Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Oral Sex (fem! receiving), Cunnilingus, Squirting
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The wooden frame of the bed slammed viciously into the thin walls of the motel bedroom, the withered coat of eggshell white chipping away with the ruthless collision, likely cracking the wood as well. The hellish creaking burned into your ears, scratching at the back of your brain and preventing any chance of relaxing in the moment. You’d had a shitty day, and the fact that this wasn’t even the worst of it was almost sad.
Work was exhausting, stupid old men yelling at you all day that you couldn’t do your job and the lead physician not doing a thing to stop them. Not to mention that you were in charge of most of the side work all day, replacing the instruments and utensils, emptying trash bins, cleaning out inpatient rooms, none of which was given to any of the newer technicians. You were good at what you did. You studied hard in school, you perfected all of your residency, you had astounding references. Your only flaw? Your gender. You were one of the only females in your department - hell - in the entire building. Most either quit or moved to different hospitals, entirely due to the terrible environment. None of your peers or superiors or inferiors respected you. You were always stuck with the dirty, side work while the others got to do what your job actually entailed, and the rare occurrences when you did get the opportunity to work with patients, they were always abusive to you. It was hell.
But what other choice did you have?
All the other openings at other hospitals were either filled or about to be. No other fields or retail jobs made enough pay. You didn’t have near enough money or grounds to seek out legal help. You were stuck. You were desperate for money. You were out of options.
You had family to take care of - two brothers, a sister, your mother. Dad died years ago in a car accident. Mom was already working overtime with two jobs, barely making ends meet. Rent, insurance, taxes, student loans, car payments, groceries, clothing, hospital bills, schooling, existing. It all cost money. So much money. It felt like you were suffocating. You were out of options.
Finally the creaking stopped. You back was already sore beyond belief and your legs numb. Your knees were probably bruised, too. Damn, you could go for some marble cheesecake right now. Your nose scrunched as you smelt the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, you lungs burning from the second hand nicotine.
“Here.”
A wad of cash fell across your back, the paper crunchy and bent. You groaned as you rose up, stretching your back out and hissing at how tight you were. How much was ibuprofen again?
You flicked through the money, your brow furrowing when you shuffled across the last layer.
“This isn’t enough,” you countered.
The end of his cigarette burned gold. He stood in front of the window, brushing away the curtain to peer outside as he took a drawl. He was still naked and didn’t seem in a rush to dress himself.
“It’d be more if ya didn’t make me wear a condom.”
You scowled but kept silent, fidgeting at the sides of your panties where he tied the damn things. The latex was knotted tight with each used rubber, five in total today. It’d be easier to just throw the whole pair away.
He took another hit.
“Won’t make our date on Saturday,” he mumbled, “got plans.”
You were already redressing yourself, desperate to get out of there and get going. Shower. Eat. Jerk off. Go to sleep. There were only so many hours in a day and you still had work in the morning.
You sighed, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
He chuckled softly to himself. “How’s work.”
“Bye, Toji.”
The store wasn’t all that crowded surprisingly. It was Thursday afternoon, but people tended to not follow norms around here when it came to scheduling. They were out of marble cheesecake so you had to get turtle. It was too sweet in your opinion.
Everyone was asleep when you got home, but you were grateful for the privacy. Mom was still at work.
You locked your door and ruffled through your bottom drawer, fetching out your vibrator. The fan in your room was loud so nobody could hear it anyway. God, you were tired.
You never thought of anything particular when you were trying to get off, it honestly depended on the day. Sometimes you thought about getting eaten out slowly by a fireplace. Sometimes you thought about getting dicked down in a dark alley. No matter the scenario, there was only one similarity. You never imagined anyone in particular. You couldn’t put a face to the man. He was big, muscular, strong. You felt safe yet thrilled underneath him. But you couldn’t see him, if that made any sense.
Your sex drive had always been high. Ever since puberty you were antsy and pent up, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to date. Your first boyfriend was overwhelmed with how needy you were, and the moment you sensed his rejection, your attraction to him plummeted. You needed to feel secure before you felt horny. Were you demisexual? Maybe. You weren’t sure and hardly had time to find yourself.
You tried to find another partner again in your third year of college. There was a party at a local bar, and your friends hyped you up to go. You were both drunk, him more than you. He had whiskey dick. You didn’t feel comfortable. You left relatively quickly after calling him an uber. Failed again.
You didn’t try again after that.
You were fine keeping to yourself. You had your own assortment of toys awaiting you in your room. And work only solidified your hatred of the male species. You likely would’ve remained celibate forever if you hadn’t run into Toji.
You had just gotten off work, walking through the subway to catch the next train. Your engine was busted so your car was in the shop. Not many people were around, and the ones that were left after a while since it was taking too long. But you were too tired to walk so you stayed. The sketchy figures in the back didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Finally the train came and you got on, only about six people onboard. The man a couple feet down on the bench smelt like burnt flesh. He had a cigar in his mouth despite the no smoking sign. Whatever, it wasn’t any of your business. Your left side was occupied, surprisingly, despite the abundance of free seats. This man was close, too close. Two others gathered in front of you. 
“Where ya headed to baby?
“Yeah, yeah, you need some company?“
“We’ll treat ya real nice.”
You tried to ignore their taunts, keeping your eyes down and trying to appear as small as possible. You immediately noticed when a knife was drawn.
“We’re tryna talk to you, bitch.”
The blade nicked the bottom of your jaw, your blood running cold.
“Yer makin’ too much ruckus over there.”
Everyone slowly turned to look at who spoke. The man looked without a care in the world.
“Didn’t fuckin’ ask you, now did I old man?” The knife was now pointed to him.
He drew a long sigh and took out his blunt, pressing the lit end into the seat, the plastic screaming in agony.
You don’t really remember the rest of the conversation. Everything was a blur. Words were said. Punches were thrown. Bones were shattered. The man with the cigarette hardly got up from his seat, really. The next thing you knew he was sat back down and the others were lying on the floor, knocked out. You shifted your feet away so they didn’t get near the bodies.
Awkwardly, you tried to thank him, offer him what little you had in your pocket, mostly out of fear. You didn’t want to get on the bad side of someone who could so easily hurt people, and you didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Based on the scar that tore into his mouth, he’d seen his fair share of violence. He turned it down. You offered to buy him food. He turned it down. Medical care to clean his fists? He turned it down. You were out of options. Was there anything you could offer him? His answer still burned in your mind.
“You wanna fuck?”
The money afterward was unexpected. You woke up sore and broken, your thighs burning and covered in bruises. He was long gone, in his place a wad of cash that made your eyes bulge. Did he think you were a hooker? You weren’t sure. The sex wasn’t bad. You didn’t get off, but he obviously knew what he was doing. It felt nice. You felt safe.
Your next meeting, he found you walking the streets. Money in hand, stinking of booze. Wagging a room key in your face and giving you an address to go to if you need some money. Maybe he thought you were someone else. You didn’t care. You needed money and didn’t mind the sex. You were always wet enough to be comfortable for a decent amount of time, but it would hurt more after each round. You wish he didn’t last so long. Or for so many rounds. You wondered if he was even human. More money.
You had a couple rules for your… relationship. No kissing. No oral (for either of you). No raw contact or cumming on your body. No telling. You didn’t need a reputation.
He paid based on what he felt like paying you, but he was never stingy so you didn’t mind. Until lately.
He wasn’t paying as much as he used to. He didn’t seem to be enjoying himself as much. Maybe he was getting bored. You were worried.
You needed the money. You always needed money. And this wasn’t paying like it used to. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew what you had to do.
You needed another outlet.
It was going to be hard to find one. You were essentially selling your body, but you still had standards. You refused to sleep with anyone who you didn’t find attractive, anyone who was married, anyone dangerous. Your work was cut out for you.
And since you were now free on Saturday, you would go out then.
You put your siblings to bed early, double checking with mom that she’d be out until early morning. You dressed nice but not too nice. Hot but not too hot. It was a fine line you were walking, and you absolutely were not going to cross it.
The bar in the popular part of the city was going to be the number one spot for rich bachelors. You never went there yourself because it was so expensive and uptight, but you were looking to get drinks anyway. You didn’t have to wait long before you had a drink in front of you, courtesy of a gentleman sitting in a booth in the back. He was too old for you but you smiled at him. The others came quickly. You had the bartender sneak most of them into the sink. You couldn’t get drunk and most of these men you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. It was starting to get late. You didn’t spot anyone worth your while.
“This seat taken?”
You whipped around to your right, surprised to see a young man - no - someone your age in here. Not to mention attractive. You shook your head, trying to cover your own shock.
“Not a lot of… not… old guys in here, am I right?” He laughed, nodding toward the tables of older gentleman. Most were fifty or so. You felt gross now realizing how many were staring at you.
You laughed back nervously, “Yeah…”
“What brings you here?” He asked innocently, “Not that you don’t belong here! You just look… I don’t know - uncomfortable?”
You cringed. Did you look uncomfortable? 
“Yeah, sorry. Just… hanging around, I suppose,” you offered. He was too cute now. You couldn’t bring yourself to take his money even if you wanted to. 
He smiled. “Same here. I thought this place was going to be fun, but there’s not a lot to do.” He looked around. “Most of these guys are talkin’ business.” Looking around yourself, you realized he was right. Most of them were meeting up with business partners whiles others were trying to make business partners. Some looked pretty shady. You were getting more nervous by the minute.
“I-I have to go,” you mumbled quickly, getting up from your seat end creeping toward the door. He was surprised. “Uh, by-”
You bumped into something, stumbling back into the bar. 
“Oi, you should watch where you’r-”
You gasped.
The music got louder. The air felt heavy. His eyes looked dark.
The corners of his mouth tugged down and his eyes narrowed. Sweat condensed on your brow.
“What are you doing here?” He growled, his stature big and menacing. His green eyes bore into you sharply.
“I-I-I-”
“Hey-” The boy from before was back. “Are you okay?” He looked to Toji and frowned.
“This guy bothering you?” He asked, all too naive. You gently pushed him back. You could see Toji about to pounce. 
You pushed him back a little harder when he didn’t get the hint. “No, it’s fine, man,” you told him, “just go.”
He gave you another concerned look, but left when you gave him a stern one. You felt bad. He seemed nice.
Much to your disappointment, the other man you were dealing with didn’t just vanish into thin air. You sighed. “I was just about to leave, anyway.” You tried to step past him. He didn’t let you, his wide torso stepping in front of you. His smirk made your skin crawl.
“Let’s talk.”
You weren’t given the option to deny him as he stole you away, a large fist grabbing you arm far too harshly. He pulled you through the exit, dragging you down the crowded street. Any struggle you made was met with a firm tug, his grip getting tighter and tighter. You were definitely going to bruise.
When you’d rounded lone alleyway between the buildings, he’d pressed you against the wall, the grainy texture of the brick scratching your skin.
“What the fuck was that about, huh?” He hissed, his teeth sharp and burning white.
“You fucking around? You screw any of those fuckers?” He’d never been so angry with you before. He’d never been angry with you, period. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.
“N-no!” you argued, “Toji, no. What the hell - what are you doing here?” When he gave no answer, his eyes still glaring, you continued.
“You said you were busy today…”
No answer.
“I can spend my free time wherever I want.”
No. Answer. Your eyes glazed over, and you turned away from him.
“I… needed money…”
With that he seemed to let up.
“Money?” He scoffed. “This how you get money now? What the fuck happened to your job?”
“Nothing… I just needed more.” You bit your lip. “Your’s isn’t enough.”
“What do you mean mine isn’t enough?” He barked. He wrapped his hand under you jaw, his palm grasping your pulse.
“I told you I’d give you more if you let me screw you raw. Didn’t I?”
You swallowed thickly, tears clinging to your eyelashes.
You looked back at him with fear in your eyes, his hand slowly closing around your neck. His expression softened ever so slightly as he realized he was scaring you.
He released you with a huff and walked a few steps away, running a hand down his face.
“What’s the issue? STDs? Birth control? I’m clean, and I’ll get you pills-”
“No!”
He looked at you surprised. You calmed yourself down and rubbed your arms, suddenly feeling the chill of the air.
“Toji…,” you began, “we’re… not together. You have your fun, I get paid - that’s all we do.” You looked up at him softly. “I need more than what you’re giving me.”
His eyes narrowed. “You saying you don’t have fun.”
You bit your lip and looked away. He scowled. Wrong answer.
He took wide strides forward, cornering you against the wall yet again, this time with his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to face him.
“You saying you don’t love it when I fuck you? That your cunt doesn’t fuckin’ love my cock?
You frowned back at him.
“You tell me.”
His mouth thinned.
It was no secret that you didn’t come when you two fucked. It’s not like he was trying either. You always prepped yourself beforehand, lubing yourself up and stretching yourself out so he didn’t hurt you. And during your escapades, he always just pulled his dick out and got to it. He never touched you more than necessary, never tried to feel you up or grope around. His only goal was to get himself off. And you were fine with that. So long as he paid you.
His eyes looked at you softly, he almost looked guilty, but you knew him better than that. You sighed and pushed away from him.
“It’s late… I gotta go hom-”
He grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight.
You looked down at it, his hand engulfing your arm, his fingers and knuckles all too big for you. His nails dug into your skin and he pulled you back. You couldn't walk away if you wanted to. You were trapped. You wanted to push him away, you wanted to be mad, but you couldn't find it in yourself.
He leaned in, his eyes soft yet cold.
You flinched, his lips connecting with the side of your neck. He was rough, his mouth moving against your flesh in a sloppy kiss. His tongue flicked across your neck, and his teeth tugged at your skin. He was hungry. Always hungry. You pushed your free hand against him. He ignored it.
His free hand snaked up to the underside of your breast, the other dropping to your hip, his palm resting on the bone. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin where your chest spilled out. You felt conflicted.
He bit you harshly, drawing blood. Your eyes widened and you hissed.
“So that’s what this was all about, huh?” He rasped, his bottom lip resting on your skin, his breath hot.
“Little girl not cumming like she wants to?”
You pushed his face away and groaned.
“As if you’ve ever gotten me off? I’m leaving.”
You went to move, but he kept his grip tight. He grabbed the other wrist as well. He squeezed hard, forcing you to gasp. He smirked.
“You’re this stubborn you’ve forgotten how to ask for things? You had me worried there. Thought you were tryna end things for real.”
Your face flushed in anger and embarrassment. You yanked your arms away but he didn't let go. You tugged once, twice, three times - he didn't let go. You yelped as he tugged back, forcing you to stumble and fall against him. He pressed his hips against yours, his groin digging into your stomach. You grunted at the pressure, your toes curling at the contact. He was hard already, his cock throbbing against your navel.
He pinned your arms over your head, his weight forcing you up against the wall, his mouth looming over yours. You turned your head to the side. He couldn’t kiss you, that was against the rules. His hot breath fell down your cheek and neck.
He leaned in again and you turned away.
He was hungry. Always hungry.
He leaned in again. And again.
You whimpered softly and groaned. Your heart throbbed.
You swallowed thickly as he leaned in again, your chest heaving, his lips brushing against your jaw. You shook your head weakly. He huffed, a deep, almost animalistic rumble leaving his chest.
You whined and shut your eyes.
His tongue smoothed over your jawline, his hand finally letting go of you.
You placed a hand on his shoulder but didn't push him away. He was too strong, anyway.
He grunted and ran his fingers through your hair, grasping a handful and pulling your head back. You whined, the sound only encouraging him to continue, your hair tightening in his fist. He pushed his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your pelvis, the fabric of your skirt doing nothing to stop the feeling.
“C’mon sweetheart, Don’tcha wanna feel good?” He cooed.
He forced you into the wall once more, his free hand moving down to your thigh, squeezing the skin just under your knee. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it over his hip, his bulge rubbing your heat. A chuckle rose deep within his throat, and he licked at your ear.
“Ugh, Toji, stop it! You’re being annoying,” you complained, despite the thrill lacing up your spine. He laughed.
“Don’t lie,” the man crooned. “I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll be beggin’ me to fuck ya.” 
Your cowered away. “Wha-” Umph.
You couldn’t finish as you we dropped onto a hard surface, a mixture of both brick and stale dirt. Looking up, dead branches and deader leaves filled your vision. The alley way had led to a smaller subsection of the street, a lone crevice in the city district that was long abandoned and withering away. Your dress was smushed into the dirt of the old dirt bowl that was in the center of the small courtyard, the tree taking root twisted and weak. It almost seemed pitifully metaphorical to your current situation.
A scheming hand slithered up your thigh, scrunching back your crinkled skirt and hiking it around your hips, your lacey g-string fully exposed.
“Fuck,” Toji moaned, licking his lips, “You were definitely looking to get fucked tonight.”
“No I wasn’t!” You countered nervously, trying to press your thighs together to hide yourself. Despite being in an abandoned area, you were still in a public space and didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Much less be here for the long duration it took him to be satisfied. But this time felt a bit different. He was taking his time, touching you more, teasing. He usually got straight to business and had his fly down by now, but instead it was you who was being undressed, his big, warm hands encompassing your thighs and groping them. He was trying to break another rule, you could feel it. He had a devious look in his eye. He smiled at you.
“How much to touch your pussy?”
You were taken aback by the question, squeezing your thighs even tighter.
“Wha- that’s off limits!”
“No, no,” he insisted, “everything’s got a price, baby. What’s yours?”
He couldn’t possibly be serious. You’d never seen him so adamant to give you pleasure, much less offer money for it. From your experience, men were hesitant to do anything besides receive, convincing themselves that woman adored pleasing them. And the rare moment when they did touch a girl, it was always careless and short-lived, the only real goal to get them wet enough to be a slippery hole. You weren’t in the mood to be disappointed.
“Thirty thousand yen? Forty?”
“Not interested.”
“More?”
“No.”
He leered.
“Three. Hundred. Thousand.”
Your eyes bulged. Mouth gaping.
“Th-thats…”
“Going once,” he announced. “Going twice!” Don’t let him get to three.
You could get a new computer with that, replace your old busted one that had lost half the keys and took fifty years to load.
“Going-”
“I’ll do it!” You gasped, defeated. “I’ll do it…”
His paws squeezed your thighs, drifting up the insides and gently prying them apart. You hardly fought him when you realized that was the only way you were going to get the money. New computer. New computer. You tried to focus on the positives.
Toji pressed his cheek into your inner thigh, kissing your skin softly. You shivered at the feeling of his soft lips brushing your flesh. He moved up your leg, placing his hands on each side of your panties and tugging them down, your skin glistening with sweat as he pulled the cloth against the curves of your flesh. He pulled your legs apart further and licked a long stripe up your skin. the wetness cold on your overheated flesh. You clenched your teeth. You were on the verge of telling him the deal was off, but his tongue brushed against your core and you could no longer find the words. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving marks in his wake.
Your core throbbed.
He pulled you closer to the edge of the pot, your body lying at an awkward angle, the base of your spine aching.
Toji pressed a thumb against your slit, dragging it across your folds and collecting your slick on the pad. You shuddered.
He ran the pad of his thumb across your clit, rubbing slow circles into the bundle of nerves. You gripped his hair with one hand, tugging it hard, his muffled groan tickling your core. His finger slipped between your folds, easily entering your wet hole, his finger much bigger than your own. You grunted at the intrusion, the thick digit stretching your inner walls, his knuckle pressing against your clit as he bottomed out inside of you. He wiggled his finger, stretching your walls before pumping his finger in and out of your cunt, dragging out every little noise he could from your mouth.
He pulled you closer to the edge of your seat, your legs dangling in the air as he sat between your thighs, your hands digging into the dirt beneath you for support.
His finger moved slowly within you, his eyes never leaving yours, a fire burning within his emerald eyes. You grunted when he added another finger, the feeling almost too much for you. Your noises echoed briefly throughout the courtyard, bouncing off the concrete and surrounding buildings, and you were all too aware of how loud you were being. You pulled harder on his hair as the knot in your stomach grew tighter.
But you tried to keep your composure, your body still tense with the fear of your surroundings. Any moment someone could come waltzing by, see what you two were doing, your disheveled appearance, perhaps even try to take advantage. Your alarm hindered your concentration on the pleasure.
“What’s up?” You heard, turning your eyes back down to look at him. You hadn’t realized your gaze had wandered to the opening in the walls to where the city life buzzed about. He glanced over to where you were looking.
“Ain’t nobody comin’ over here. Relax,” he mumbled, his eyes getting warm again. “I’ll protect ya. Just relax.”
Your heart throbbed at the promise, warmth enveloping your body. You hesitantly let your head fall back and sighed, dropping your shoulders. His free hand moved to the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your belly. He wanted a good view. You didn't care. You felt… safe.
His fingers picked up speed, fucking you harder as you bit your lip. His thumb moved back to your clit, rubbing circles on the swollen button. You hummed and sighed, his fingers twisting inside you. The pleasure began to build up again, boiling in your belly and tingling up your spine. And just when you got comfortable he only took it further.
Heat enveloped your clit, wet and slippery and hot like a warm bath. You gasped out, squirming around a bit and digging your nails into the roots in the ground. Looking back down, you confirmed your theory. Toji’s head was between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and wrapped around your little bead, his fingers still working inside of you. Soft pants and whines left your mouth, your legs shaking around his head as he continued to suck at you, his tongue swirling around and prodding under the hood, leaving you slick and sensitive. Your core throbbed.
You felt a sharp pressure inside you, and then a slow stretch. You yelped. A third finger was entering you, your cunt molding around the thick digit. You writhed  again, trying to ease the ache of the intrusion. His other hand rested on your belly, gently smoothing over your skin as he ate you. His head moved side to side, tongue laving over you, his hands never stopping their movements. Oh god. It felt like you going to- to-
“Ah!,” you moaned, shaking viciously and clutching at his head, holding him in place. You were melting, you were sure of it. Everything was slipping away from you, your bones, your brain, your worries. His tongue kept lashing at you, extending your pleasure and refusing to slow down. His fingers remained pressed against your sweet spot, his other hand pushing on your belly. It was all too much, you were squealing with overstimulation. It got tighter. And tighter. And tighter. Until something popped.
All the tension broke from your body, the shocking sensations melting into something warm and fuzzy. You slowly let go of everything, all tension easing away from you and allowing for complete bliss to take over. Sweet sighs and mewls left your lips, your back lying against the dirt as you caught your breath and waited for your head and pussy to stop tingling. Another whine was pulled from you when he took his fingers and mouth away from you, unraveling your legs from his head and stepping back.
“You fallin’ asleep now?” He laughed.
You pouted and groaned. “No… jus’… gimme a sec.” Your bones were like jelly, your eyelids heavy. He cackled at you and that was the push you needed to get off your ass. He looked smitten.
“Good, right?” He crooned, wiping his mouth, “Ya fuckin’ squirted on me.”
Your face got dark and you looked to your lap, embarrassed.  
“Nothin’ to be ashamed about princess.” He assured, fishing out his wallet and shufflling through the bills. He took out a stack and threw it in your lap.
“It was hot.”
You groaned again and dug your face into your hands, trying to ignore his raspy laughing.
You jolted when you felt his breath on you, looking up and freezing. His eyes burned into you.
“Now next time, let’s work out this condom situation, alright?”
You gulped.
~
Part 2 coming eventually...
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buckypinetrees · 1 year ago
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Warm
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Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader (No use of Y/N)
Summary: You and Bucky are forced to go on a team bonding getaway together. Tensions rise.
Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, enemies-to-lovers, boob play, oral (Fem receiving)
A/N: First fanfic I've written in years and the first time I've ever written for Bucky. Feedback is very much appreciated in the comments.
Part 2
You had run out of places to run. You had run further into the woods than you intended. You had been trained for this, you reminded yourself. Taking a deep breath, you scanned the area around you. The knotted mess of trees and plants surrounding you struck no chords of familiarity in your bones. You were lost.
“You lost, doll?” you heard a voice sneer. The voice of the man you were stuck with out here in the middle of nowhere for a “training session” Bucky Barnes. 
“I’m fine,” you mustered as much anger and spite into your voice as you could manage. 
“I could show you the way back.” The stupid smirk that pervaded your dreams gleamed. 
            You pushed forward avoiding talking to him further. You heard him try to continue the banter, but your mind was elsewhere. Stuck on the fact that you had to spend an insufferable week here with him in the name of team bonding. You understood why Steve had made the decision. The last fight between you and Bucky had ended in the drywall of the training room being completely turned to bits. But there had to have been other ways. Surely, they could have sent you guys on different missions, planning out your schedule so your presences never had the chance to grace each other. But no, here you were with the man who had made your entire time at the compound a living hell.
Finally coming out of your thoughts you examined the area surrounding you. The woods thickened and the whisper of birds sang above you. Peaceful. That was what this was. Maybe the first semblance of peace you encountered since yesterday when you were jetted here against your will. Your pleas for anything different fall on deaf ears. Steve had said it would be good for you. 
You had sat in the clearing for what seemed like hours. The sun had started to set in the distance and the birds stopped chirping. The temperature had fallen what seemed like 20 degrees in an hour and you realized you didn’t have much time to get back to the cabin before you froze to death. Maybe death would be sweeter than the taunting and humiliation you would face if you had returned there. Before you left you told Bucky that you would rather die than spend a night in the cabin with him. Returning now would make it seem like you were weak, and you couldn’t stand the smug look that would be on his face when you returned. 
“Still lost, little dove?” his voice rang in your ears.
“Don’t call me that” you bit back the urge to scream at him. He had been using these pet names against you from the moment you arrived. Seeing you as nothing but an average civilian. 
“It’s getting cold out, and I’m not going to let your stubbornness get you killed,” Bucky admitted. You answered with a vulgar gesture. “Okay, have it your way, I’m returning to the cabin. You can follow me back or you can freeze.” 
You heard Bucky’s footsteps soften as he started walking away. You rose, knees aching as you stretched them for the first time in hours. Trying to be as quiet and discrete as possible you followed his trail back to the cabin. It took you a while, not to realize how deep you had truly ventured into the woods. Watching him through the window you readied yourself for his snide remarks. You could handle this. You rarely lost your temper in other situations but with Bucky, there was just something truly infuriating about him. 
Walking through the door, the smell of the stove pervaded your senses. He had made dinner, probably just for himself. The conditions of this little “getaway” were simple. The cabin was made available for you two to shelter in but everything other than that you would have to fend for yourself. So, no food, unless you hunted, no clean water unless you searched for it, and no heat unless you cut the wood yourself. You thought back to how stupid you had been. Instead of spending the first day here using your efforts to find any of these things, you threw a tantrum. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you smelled the aroma of food sizzling on the stove. 
“Hungry, doll?” He sneered as if reading your mind. “Too bad you were lost in the woods the entire day. I only had enough time to find a meal for myself.” His eyes found yours as he hit his mark with his ravenous words. 
“I said earlier, I am fine. I don’t need your help here. I’m on the team for a reason. I can survive the week just fine” not daring to give him the dignity of seeing you fail. You made your way towards the shower. You heard him chuckle behind you. You locked yourself inside the bathroom, trying to steady yourself. You hated the smug expression on his face. He would be truly handsome if he didn’t have such a bitter interior. Being this close to him made you want to rip his throat out. This was going to be a long week. 
            You emerged from the shower, dressed in your night clothes. The only luxury you and Bucky were afforded was packing your clothes for the week. Bucky was spread out on the couch, a grin spread across his lips. 
            “Oh, just so you know, I didn’t get any wood for the fire. I don’t need it seeing my enhancements and all, but you might get cold. Should’ve thought about it before you acted like a toddler earlier” his grin never ceased as he eyed you up and down. His gaze always felt dirty on your skin. He would never see you as part of the team. To him, you were just a stray they found and had the kindness to take in. 
            You didn’t deign to respond to his mockery. The less you had to talk to Barnes the better. You simply shuffled past him to reach the bedroom. An old shaggy duvet sat aloft a bed that looked like it hadn’t been used in decades, but it would do. You wrapped yourself as tightly in the blanket as possible already feeling the chill seeping into your bones, both from the cold and your lack of nutrition. You ignored it, wishing you could also ignore the whistles and hums coming from the living room. He was loving this. Your misery was delicious to him. He was drinking it in. You tried to turn off the thoughts running through your head and slept.
            You had awoken in the middle of the night shivering. The cold is too impertinent now to ignore. On top of that, you were hungry. You hadn’t eaten since you guys had started the flight here, almost 24 hours ago. Tossing and turning, you had tried to stay in bed for as long as possible. Finally rising you made your way to the bathroom. It was a smaller room. Maybe it kept heat trapped in better. As you walked out of the bedroom, Bucky rose to sit up on the couch. 
            “What are you doing up?” His voice was husky with sleep. Any other man with this voice would make your toes curl and you would be completely pliant in his hands. 
            “I had to go to the bathroom.” You whispered out meekly.
            “Sure, little dove, it’s not because your cold right?” You shook your head, not daring to talk again in case your teeth chattered. “You see,” Bucky continued, “with my enhancements, I could hear your little body shivering in that bed. The sound of your chattering teeth started to sound like white noise. You know I could help you if you just admit that you acted like a brat this morning.” 
            You scoffed at him. Why would you not act the way you had when forced to go on this little retreat with him? And what did he mean by helping you? You had had enough of him. 
            “I don’t need your help, Barnes. You’re an ass!” Your tone rises as you spit the words at him.
            “You say one thing and yet your body betrays you every time. Look how hard you’re trying not to shiver. C’mon, just admit it. You acted like a spoiled little brat today and you need me to fix your mistakes.” His eyes never left your frame as he examined the way your body continued to shake from the cold. 
            “No.”
            “Okay then freeze, but then you’re going to be weaker tomorrow because you didn’t get any sleep and then I’ll have to spend all day caring for your ass because Steve made me promise that I wouldn’t let you die out here” he grunted out. “So, either let me take care of you now, or deal with it tomorrow. It’s your choice little dove.”
You wanted to scream at him, fight him, anything to wipe the smug grin that sat on his face like a permanent fixture when you were in his presence. You felt the heat radiating off him. He didn’t even need a blanket to keep warm. Your words betrayed your mind as you muttered out a “fine.” He rose from his spot on the couch moving closer to you. That ever-present smirk waltzing towards you.
“I’d offer you a spot on the couch, but it might be a little small for the two of us. Shall we move this to the bedroom?” His eyes raked over your figure as he stepped closer. Just being this close to him was already starting to warm you up. Not to mention the heat that flooded your cheeks at the word he spoke. 
He grinned as he gripped your hand. “Hmm, you are freezing.” A brief glimpse of concern showed on his face. “Don’t worry we’ll get you all warmed up doll.”
You followed him into the bedroom, assessing how you would get him back tomorrow for making you feel so weak. Climbing onto the bed you felt him wrap his body around you. A weird foreign feeling to be seeking out comfort from what you considered your sworn enemy. But he was so warm, and his hands felt so gentle as he traced lazy shapes onto your chill-bitten skin. Your head instantly went empty as you savored the way his body pressed against your backside. He truly was beautiful with his dark locks and his cerulean blue eyes. The cold must’ve affected you worse than you thought if you were thinking such sweet things about Bucky. 
            While you were lost in thought you had continued to shift ever so slightly against him. His hand stopped instantly steadying you.
            “Stop moving” he managed to growl out with a hint of something different in his voice. Unconcerned you continued to shift as you tried to get comfortable and that’s when you felt it.
            “B…Bucky” you managed to squeak out now aware of his current situation. His hands felt too hot suddenly. Your body temperature rises way too high as the flush spread from your cheeks to your chest. You thanked God as you realized it was too dark for him to notice the blush spreading throughout his body. You shifted so that your backside was no longer pressed against him. Your body fully turned to him now. 
            “I think I’m warm enough now Bucky,” your voice was barely a whisper.
            “You know what I think…” Bucky paused assessing the words he was about to say, “I think you’re a brat who makes it so damn hard for me to think about anything but this when you’re in the room.” He punctuated the sentence by gripping your ass in his hands hard, earning a moan out of you. 
            “Bucky,” you moaned out brokenly, too high off adrenaline to push him away or pull him closer. 
            “And do you know what I think you truly need? To be taught to mind your manners,” His voice dripped with lust as he moved his lips to your neck barely ghosting them over your pulse point. 
            You were a mess against him. You felt the dampness in your panties and your blood pound beneath your skin. Every sense was going haywire as you felt his hands roam your body. He took his time grabbing at every inch of your skin through your clothes. 
            “Please” you choked out. “Please touch me.”
            “Aww…She does have manners,” He responded mockingly. “But I am touching you, maybe I need to teach your patience as well.” His hands gripped harder into your sides as he positioned you beneath him. 
            Just as you opened your mouth to protest his teeth sank into the sweet spot on your neck. Arching your back trying to feel more of him, you whined against him. His metal arm came to rest against your hips keeping them in place as he slithered from you. He opened the blinds, so moonlight flooded into the bedroom. 
            “I want to see my meal before I eat it,” he smirked from his position by the window. The moonlight streaming showed how blown his pupils were, and if you had a mirror, you would assume yours would be the same. He moved ever so slowly towards you, the grin of a predator on his lips. His hands came to rest on the edge of your shirt.
            “I’ve wondered how pliant you would be underneath me. How easily you would listen to every word I say” his hands began making quick work of your shirt exposing your bare breast to him. Your body shines blue underneath the moonlight.
            “Beautiful,” he murmured more to himself than to you, but your body still keened at the praise. His hands explored the newly visible skin. You felt his warm tongue start to explore your right breast, giving little sucks and bites as he avoided your nipple. His metal hand doing the same motions on your left side. 
            “Bucky, please…” Your whines and groans were pathetic as you urged him to touch your most sensitive spots. Something about your feeble attempts at persuading him must’ve stirred something in him because he began to attack your breast with a new fervor. Your moans became even louder as he sucked and nipped at your budding nipples. His metal hand left your breast and steadied himself. His human one makes quick work to slide into your underwear. 
            “Someone’s so needy,” he tsked against your skin. His fingers explored the wetness found there. It was too much. Your head felt heavy and light at the same time. All sense of morality floated out of your head as you reached for his shirt. “Please” became your mantra as he continued to rile up your already supple body. You were pleading for this man you had run from earlier to hurry up and fuck you. 
            He removed his shirt and your underwear, and you sighed thinking you had finally gotten to the part where he slides into you. Bucky had other ideas as he pulled your cunt closer to his face. He let out an exploratory lick that had your body pressing against him further. He found a motion that you liked as he let himself feast. Your moans bounced off the wall fueling him further. He began to devour you.
            “You taste so sweet” The vibration made your body bend further into him. Seeing this as a pleasant sign he sweeps his finger against your aching hole, watching as your eyes widen in anticipation. He slides it in, and you finally submit to him fully. Knowing that this man could do anything he wanted to you, and you would willingly take it. 
            He ate you like he needed you to orgasm. Like it was the sole purpose, he was placed onto this Earth. Your head began spinning. The heat begins building up deep in your core. You clenched around his skilled fingers and felt yourself tumble off the ledge letting out a string of words all broken and all ending in Bucky’s name. Your body shook as he continued through your orgasm until you were spent. 
            Doe eyes met Bucky’s gaze as you finally regained some sense. You reached for him, hands grazing his bare chest as you came down. Bucky simply separated himself from you, moving towards the doorway. 
            “Hope you’re warm now, little dove.” His smirk returned to his face as he left you and returned to the couch.
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