#warning there’s too many typos but who cares

[diabolicjoy]

.

[paarksunghoon]

Sunghoon trying to stay sane and respectful but your love for mini skirts and barely there tops are testing his patience day by day. He's not a horn dog but God when you press against him, so soft, so pretty and oh so naive..do you not notice your entire cleavage hanging out for his eyes to drink in, or the skirt riding up your luscious thighs as you rant about your day?

as someone who wears mini skirts all the time…nbgngngn. i’m also pretty high but reading this really put a number on me so sorry for typos lol

***

Sunghoon is a skirt chaser.

He’s always loved seeing girls wearing them since it made their legs look longer. It didn’t matter much to him—short girls or tall girls—he loved seeing ass peeking out from under the skirt and how they’d always tug at the hem to pull it down. Sunghoon doesn’t date much either (although that definitely wasn’t because nobody wanted him like that either; he wasn’t looking for that type of commitment).

He loved the kind of skirts that paired well for going out. Sure, the solid color staples pieces were cute. But the way silk touches the skin and how hips sway in these fabrics was enough to make his mouth salivate.

When you started wearing them, Sunghoon became perplexed.

You, his best friend since twelve, seemed to have ditched jeans and long dresses for short skirts and baby tees. In the past few months, he’s seen you switch up your wardrobe to the point where he was sure you had more than enough mini skirts to last you a lifetime. They came in all colors and styles, one for every color underneath the rainbow and then some. His friends all noticed this too, eyes following your ass every time you walked in front of them. That made him mad.

The thing is, you have an amazing ass and your tits always sit so pretty. He tries not to stare and gawk at you every time you wear these kinds of clothes. You keep it fairly tame when you’re in broad daylight and push the boundaries on a night out. You don’t seem to care that his friends stare at you every time you try to cover yourself up from a gust of wind or when you bend down. Sunghoon has probably seen your panties too many times.

He really doesn’t understand why all of these feelings are bubbling up. He’s seen you in bikinis and didn’t react like this. Sunghoon is confused but that doesn’t stop his dick from getting hard every time he pictures your outfits when he’s in the safety of his bedroom.

His favorite way to get off is by pushing his back against the bed frame and spreading his legs, holding his fist in a circle and he pumps himself up and down. Sunghoon pictures you riding him in one of your infamous mini skirts, looking up at the ceiling and imagining what you’d look like on top of him. He thinks about how he’d look down and the dirty affair would be covered by the fabric, as if thinking about fucking your best friend wasn’t weird.

Sunghoon is pulled back to reality when you squeeze his bicep in lieu of a greeting.

“Do you have our tickets?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus, Y/N. You need to warn a guy before you creep up on them.”

“All I did was touch your arm!” His cheeks feel hot as you laugh. “Were you in deep thought, or something?”

His eyes flicker to the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you wear but scoffs, playing it off. “Nah. You’re as quiet as a mouse.”

“Well this mouse wants to go inside.”

You don’t wait for him to answer you. Sunghoon feels you tug him by the hand towards the security line in front of the concert venue. You’ve been a bit more physical with him lately, tugging on his arm and sifting your fingers through his hair whenever he’d lay his head on top of yours. He only ever means to for a brief second in the way friends do, but he hesitates to pull away once you tug at his roots.

The artist is a band you two discovered a few years back and he was in charge of buying the concert tickets for the both of you. Sunghoon sees the fruit of his labor pay off when you’re both standing inside after you both pass through security. The venue is crowded and small, but you’re sure everybody is too high out of their minds to notice people bumping into them anyway.

As the two of you walk closer towards the middle, it starts to get tighter. Sunghoon moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your waist to guide you and doesn’t mind that your arms are resting on top of his.

You don’t move away from him once you’ve joined others either. He noticed that you’re a bit shorter than everyone else around you. “Do you want to get on my shoulders during your favorite songs?”

“No, that’s okay. I want to dance.”

He looks down at your skirt. “Mhm, let me know if you change your mind.

The two of you wait until the show begins and you’re talking to him about how excited you are for tonight but all he can think about is how he could cop a feel if he really wanted to. The skirt you’re wearing provides him easy access to touch you but he refuses to act on his urges, often flexing his fingers to calm himself down.

Halfway through the show and everyone is having a great time. You’ve danced for an hour straight and feel your legs wobbling after jumping and screaming the lyrics to Sunghoon. He’s a bit taken aback when you rest your back against his chest but tries not to think too much into it.

But you stay like that for a while and he can feel the fabric of your skirt. He toys with it absentmindedly as he nods his head to the melody until he feels your legs tensing against him. When he looks down, your thighs are squished together.

Fuck. He wonders if you’re horny.

Sunghoon hooks his chin over your shoulder and peeks down below to where his hands graze the hem of your mini skirts. When you don’t motion for him to move away, he grunts when his hands start to disappear and moans directly in your ear when his fingers touch your panties. It’s only then does he realize how wet you are.

His other arm is secured over your waist and you grip onto him at the sudden contact across your blooming core. He swipes his index and middle fingers back and forth to gauge just how wet you’ve become, smearing it all over your panties. It brings a gasp out of you and he pushes his lap against your ass.

It’s too much and he’s too hard. Neither of you are paying much attention to the show anymore, too wrapped up in your own little world to focus on anything else. Sunghoon nearly moans out loud when he realizes you’re allowing him to hump you from behind.

“Are you trying to ruin this friendship?”

Sunghoon feels you nod against him and the two of you head out of the venue and into his car. He tries to keep it in his pants on the ten minute drive back to his apartment. You don’t fuss when Sunghoon shoves his hand between your legs and keeps rubbing over your pussy as he drives, one hand on the wheel while he plays with you. Your best friend bites his lip and tenses when arousal gushes out of you.

“Recline and open your legs wider, baby.” You do as he says and he pats your clit twice. “Good girl, listening to me like that.” He switches his ministrations and brings his thumb to rub over your clit in back and forth motions. “Need to make sure you stay wet.”

And stay wet you do. You’re wet all the way home where he locks the two of you in his place until he’s dropping to his knees and pushing your chest against the wall. Sunghoon puts his face between your legs and licks up the arousal clinging to your panties while spreading your cheeks apart with his big hands, squeezing when you yelp.

He pulls the pathetic fabric aside and sticks his tongue into you, prying yourself open for his viewing. His warmth breath fans over your core and it has you pushing back against his face until his tongue licks you up in repeated motions.

Sunghoon doesn’t really care that he’s too horny for foreplay and neither do you, apparently, because when you hear sunghoon unzip his pants and take them off, you’re taking your panties off and taking your shoes off too. He grabs himself and aligns his tip with your hole before pushing all of himself inside.

You’re so wet. It’s so hot. He fucks you like he’s got enough stamina to last a lifetime and your tits bounce against the walls at the pace he’s set. He pulls back far enough that he nearly slips out every time but without fail, Sunghoon will make sure his dick stays wet the entire time you’re with him.

He pulls you back onto the couch with his cock still lodged inside of you, manhandling your body until he’s got you on his lap and your feet are placed by his knees. Sunghoon pushes his hips upwards and fucks you like this, balls slapping your clit with every thrust. He moans when you moan, the emptiness of his apartment filled up by erotic noises that only spur on his orgasm.

Your release triggers his. When he feels your cum seeping down onto the base, Sunghoon shoots his thick ropes into you but doesn’t stop thrusting. Albeit lazier and more random, he keeps his frantic pace and lets you dig your fingers into him while you wonder how your best friend made you cum so fast.

“Fuck!” you moan when Sunghoon pulls out just to push himself back in once he’s made your body lay in front of him.

“You’re so fucking sexy in these things.” He acknowledges the skirt by flipping the fabric with his fingers. Sunghoon doesn’t give you enough time to reply but you’re too busy moaning to care about the consequences anyway. “Wear them more often and I’ll fuck you like this every time.”

Since when is your best friend so good at dirty talk?!

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[mythicalmaven]

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

[multicohn]

summary: y/n comforts a very nervous lando before the las vegas grand prix

warnings: typos, missing words ( maybe )

paring: fem! reader x lando norris

genre: comfort

author note: for the lando fans — he still has next year :)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

after a rather terrible qualifying, lando had been slightly shaky knowing that max is right beside him on the grid. the car didn’t feel right, but he prayed that it would be much better tomorrow.

his silence slightly unnerved his girlfriend who was also disappointed, but didn’t show it. she kissed him lightly on the cheek when he finally returned from the interviews. lando wanted them over and done with so he went right-away instead of greeting y/n and then leaving.

lando changed quickly while y/n packed up their things. he took a hold of her hand and their stuff before marching out of the paddock. y/n wasn’t use to him walking so fast and found herself stumbling a little, but thankfully they made it to their car before y/n tripped over.

y/n wanted to speak up, but knew that she needed to be patient and wait for lando.

the silence and patience was kept up until they were alone in their hotel room. lando let out a large sigh before throwing himself onto their bed.

“i’m going to lose” he said just as she sat down next to him

he had been like this since brazil. his nerves were getting to him and made him overthink. what happens if he crashes like last year? what if the car fails? so many question that he couldn’t get an answer too.

“you still have the constructors, and you’re still young — sort of…” he gave her a look and y/n smiled nervously, “what i mean is that you still have a lot of time left in f1, plus this gives you an advantage of what to expect next year”

lando sighed again before rolling over and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“lando” he hummed before looking up at her

“no matter what happens tomorrow. i’m still so proud of you for this year”

lando stared at his girlfriend whose eyes only held softness and care for him. he repositioned himself before slowly reaching up to grab her cheeks and pull her down into a kiss.

even if he didn’t win tomorrow, even if he didn’t take the championship fight to qatar, even without the title of “drivers would champion”, y/n would always consider him a winner.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder. 

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes. 

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it. 

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

--

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest. 

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open. 

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. 

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real. 

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier. 

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you. 

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes. 

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?” 

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat. 

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73

[solbaby7]

Calypso

pairing: azriel x reader

warning: swearing, mentions of being beaten, violence, murder, probably typos, based off a tiktok i saw (pretty sure this is based off a play or something along those lines)

summary: The sweetest member of the Inner Circle shows the Autumn Court the true extent of feminine rage.

[part 2 ]

—

“Something is wrong,” Azriel couldn’t stop pacing, heart thumping so hard in his chest he was sure there was an imprint beginning to etch its way onto his skin. A hand absently rubs at his chest, clothes feeling too tight and his brothers don’t miss the rigid raise of his wings. Shadows cloak his form, curling around his ears and tugging on his clothes in their own way of communicating the same thing he had. “Something is very, very wrong. She should be back by now.”

Rhysand try’s to remain reasonable—to regain control of the rapidly escalating situation but you were supposed to have been back nearly four hours ago.

At first, the High Lord had thought it was a good idea; that you’d be a pleasant change from Az’s domineering brood or Cassian’s incessant need to mouth off but the longer they waited the more Rhys considered that maybe he made the wrong call. “She’s gone on missions to Autumn alone many times before, Az.”

The shadowsinger nods in agreement but his stance doesn’t relax even a bit. “Sure but she’s never once been late getting back home. Never.” Saying the words seem to be confirmation enough, waiting one second—two before he’s retreating from Rhysand’s office and saying fuck it to any of the consequences that he would surely face if he got there and something had happened to you.

“Az,” Cass shouts from down the hall, bounding steps sounding against the polished floors as he falls in stride with him. “Just wait for one second.”

“If it was your mate, would you wait?”

“Of course not but we just need two minutes to assess the situation before just barging inside—this is Autumn we are talking about here.”

“I don’t care.”

Fingers rake through shoulder length hair, honey eyes clocking Azriel’s determined stride, the hard brow and strong set of his mouth. “I understand that but if it gets her killed—”

“Us waiting might get her killed,” Azriel snaps, nearly growling the words free; shadows stiffening at his shoulders in agitation. “I won’t risk it. I won’t lose her.”

There’s no room for fighting; not when Rhys and Cassian were too busy trying to keep up with Azriel’s brutal pace to cross the wards. Winnowing in a rush never did well on the stomach but the unease that churns in Azriel’s gut the moment they arrive at Autumns borders is anything but normal.

“This isn’t right,” Cassian insists, following behind with a watchful eye; every muscle in his body tense as awareness prickles to life. “Where are the guards? The hounds?” It’s too quiet, the sky too dark and yet Azriel continues on a path of his own making; following the pure string within to draw him back to his other half.

The spymaster rips through the trees, shoving aside offending branches with little regard for the noise being made. It works in his favor, stumbling at the right place at the wrong time judging by the frazzled guards and a High Lord soaked from the waist down. Complete silence fills the space; not even a bird chirps, no rustling of woodland creatures, no crackling cadence of crawling cicadas. “Where is she?” Azriel demands, voice dangerously low as he searched deeper within the bond; scrambling for further direction, desperate for the confirmation of your safety.

Beron Vanserra looks too smug, a devilish smirk crafting in the corner of his mouth. Auburn hair falls from its neat styling, clothes ruffled and Azriel knows he can’t be the only one who notices the petrified expressions plastered on the guards faces—the fact that none of them make a move to comment on Night Court breaching another’s borders without permission. “Where’s who?”

“You know who,” Rhysand says your name carefully, casually pressing forward until he stood before Azriel, serving as a barrier between a male withholding answers and another male willing to carve the world to pieces in order to obtain them. “Your meeting with her should’ve ended hours ago.”

“It never started,” Beron waves a hand dismissively, his clothes drying with the motion. Guards surround him, leaving a gap for visibility but their security is subdued; trembling with fear and eyes glistening with guilt. “She never arrived.”

Azriel’s grip tightens around the hilt of Truthteller, golden irises narrow to slits and his voice is but a hiss. “You’re lying.”

A brow raises, the overwhelming scent of whiskey and cinnamon muddled by sea salt and ocean spray; a confusing combination laced with a distress that did not belong to the High Lord of Autumn. “Do you have proof?”

Shadows creep up Azriel’s form, silently reminding its master of their presence and willingness to eliminate the threat no matter the outcome but before his lips can form words—an unnatural noise cuts through the air. The hairs on the back of his neck stands at attention, golden eyes surveilling every inch of dense foliage. “What was that?”

Its eerie and drawn out, almost like song but the melody held no comfort, no warmth.

“What did you do?” Azriel swallows thickly, shoulders uncomfortably tense as the humming continues, layered feminine voices piercing their ears like the sirens Cass always talked about around a crackling fire after too much to drink.

“I did nothing.” Beron shrugs, voice even and sure but the fear that settles behind his eyes isn’t equally well hidden. His body language betrays him, subconsciously shuffling closer to the readied guards that flank every side of their High Lord.

“Vanserra.” Your silhouette is barely noticeable when cloaked in the night and Azriel’s brow raises at the tears in your gown, the healing split of your lip—and where were your shoes?

Rhys calls your name, taking only a single step before Cassian’s iron grip curls around his arms, swiftly tugging him back and behind him. A general protecting the leader of his court as the scene before them became horribly apparent. “Impossible,” Beron whispers, not bothering to hide the disbelief—the horror. “You died.”

Azriel’s stance faulters, the stony expression unable to hide the unbridled pain that etches its way onto his features at the words.

But, you don’t seem phased.

In fact, you don’t seem much like yourself at all.

The soft glow of your light is replaced with a murky darkness; soiled by anger and the bubbling desire for vengeance and all of it is directed towards the copper haired male with a heart like coal and a soul filled to the brim with ash. “Get in the water.” You command.

“I am immune to your witchcraft, demon.” Beron scoffs your way, attempting to deflect the shake of his voice with the accusatory finger pointed to the High Lord of Night tucked safely behind his brothers. “Control your bitch or I will.”

Azriel pushes back the need to retaliate, golden eyes sliding from the male to the woman he loved; a woman who exuded unbridled feminine rage the longer you allowed such power to flow through you—power you always kept so bottled up, so contained. Soothed into submission by your kindness and grace, the love you shared with friend and stranger alike; all unleashed from the conclaves of their confinement. Az’s grip on Truthteller tightens and it’s a true test of will to tear his gaze away long enough to address Beron once more. “What did you do?”

The Autumn Courts High Lord goes still. The air seems to thin, the water bristling against the rocky shore; howling, shouting, demanding to rise—to bend at your will and follow out the revenge you seeked. “Tell them,” Your voice ebbs through the space between you, unnaturally controlled, unusually low and unbearably empty. “Tell them what you did to me and maybe I’ll show mercy.”

“I did nothing.”

A guard sucks in a shaky breath, sweat lacing his brow and it takes no more than a second before he’s released hold of his weapon and drops to the ground on his knees. “Forgive me.” He begs, hands pressed together as if he were praying. “I-I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” Cassian regards Azriel with a sharp look, crimson Syphons brewing with power as every cell in his body screamed that something terrible was going to happen—that something terrible had happened and they were too late. Forced to stand by, frozen as you were molded into a woman they could hardly recognize. The pretty blue dress you’d left in is torn, ruined fabric sagging in ribbons, showing off collarbones covered in bruises shaped like fingerprints, in cuts that healed before their very eyes. Soaked hair hangs past your shoulders, dripping down your back as the wind whipped through what remained of your clothes. “I beg of you, please, have mercy.”

The apology does no good and before Cassian can work up a plan to get Rhysand as far away as possible, you’re already wrapping them in a dome of water so crystal clear it’s like glass; shielding them from your rage while providing a front row seat to the events long since forged in stone. “Rhys, can you get in her head?”

“I don’t have to,” Rhysand responds barely above a whisper, violet eyes so pale, pupils so pinpricked as the events were shoved at him at an upresendented speed. You, arriving as planned, joining the High Lord privately for dinner when the two sips of wine began to have your body feeling like a whole night of binging at Rita’s with the girls. The images project onto the other, Cass and Az watching with bated breath as they looked through your eyes, felt your disorientation, the fear, the disgust when hands roamed over your body. It took everything for Azriel not to break, to unleash horrors upon Beron Vanserra and every male involved as he watched you beg for them to let you go. Your shoes left in a hallway in your struggle, soft skin and prettily painted toes marred by the rough tugging, the crude remarks and sick promises to kill you quick.

Cassian’s stomach churns, food curdling from within when he feels you strain against the water, as they held you down and left you there long after your hands went limp.

They could feel the power within you, pumping back life into the tiny sliver of hope left, expelling the water from your lungs and replacing that beacon of light with something the High Lord of Autumn better understood. “Get in the water,” You say once more, stepping closer and the crashing waves seem to move with you, lapping at your bare feet, salving over aches and bruises.

“Or what?” He spits, struggling to grapple into whatever control he had left but his vile tone holds no weight in comparison to you and cold expression settling into your eyes.

“Or I’ll raise the tides so high, all of Autumn Court will die.” There’s no bite in your words, only pure promise; steps strong and filled with an uncapped power so strong it seemed to throb. The bustling waves behind you climb higher and higher, so high the skyline is blocked; so high that nothing else existed behind you but such torrential oceans filled with its creatures that thrashed and snapped their jaws to do as you pleased. “Say the words, Beron. Tell them what you did to me.” Azriel’s feels it before he sees it; the bubbling emotions, the swelling power inside of you coming to a head and begging to explode. “Say it!” You demand so furiously the same guard on his knees visibly flinches, thick streams of tears trailing down his aged face as his back bows in submission before their very eyes.

He sings like a canary, confessing to following their High Lords orders of sending the Night Court a message for foolishly in believing in peace. The male professes how one of the cooks were told to lace the wine to subdue her. He musters up the decency to spare the shadowsinger a pleading glance, spilling out useless apologies and promises to never do it again—how disgusted he felt harming a female; one who was so sweet and gentle but orders were orders.

No one speaks, the other guards eyes are as wide as saucers, mouths parted in utter shock as they await the repercussions of the confession; trembling like branches in the wind under the suffocating pressure of your power.

Beron doesn’t pay the sobbing male swathed in armor any mind. Instead, he’s trained on the fellow High Lord—borderline desperate in his command. “Control her. Please.”

“It’s all about control with you, isn’t it, Beron?” Each step closer has your nose curling in disgust, lip quirking in a snarl. “I should fix that.” Wind whistles around furiously, snatching through auburn hair and ripping the overly expensive cloak right from his shoulders. True terror sets root in cruel eyes and the hairs on the back of Beron’s neck raises; primal instincts warning him of impending danger—of inevitable doom. “I’ll make tidal waves so profound that both your wife and your sons will drown.”

“Seize her,” Beron spits, snapping out the words so fiercely that spittle shoots free but even his own protection detail realizes who’s really in control here and not one of them moves to appease the order. “Threatening a High Lord and his family is punishable by death.”

Birds screech their caws of great displeasure, wings fluttering furiously against the trees in such a frenzy that leaves fall free; taunting the end of one reign and the beginnings of another. You don’t feed into his poor attempts of deflecting, his words entering one ear and flying out the other. “You mistake my threats for bluff,” Swords clatter to the ground, Autumn soldiers sharply turning on the balls of their feet with full intent to run—to rush back to their wives and children for the false feeling of safety. You allow them a few strides as a kindness before unleashing the torrential downpour upon them; sweeping each one clean off their feet in their fancy armor. “You have lived more than enough.” Shades of deep red and burnt orange fight uselessly against the angry seas, rough tides swallowing up the soldiers garbled screams and washing them away.

Beron chokes on the salty water, legs pumping furiously against the current, his eyes burning and lungs filling with the catastrophic affects of your anger. “Stop!” His cheeks turn red, the veins in his neck straining against tanned skin and you find yourself fixating on the way his hands claw at his throat—fighting for the slightest gasp of oxygen.

“Did you stop when I begged?” The oceans cover land with ease, seeping past the borders with full intent to make good on your promises on destroying every inch of Autumn territory. “When I screamed for you to just please let me go?” Deep red shifts to an unusual shade of purple, water seeps from his nose and his eyes all but bulge out of the socket.

Choked noises sputter from Beron’s lips, an arm desperately clutching around the base of a tree to keep from being washed up. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” The water parts for you, allowing you a perfect path to the High Lord and you take your sweet time watching his struggle—his disarray. He looks so utterly boyish this way, his hair soaked over his forehead, lashes dark and clustered together under the force of ocean spray smacking at his cheeks like a million microscopic needles. “But, you will be.”

Eerie voices sing their song, layering over the other in a plethora of different pitches until Beron’s head snaps from side to side, eyes searching frantically for the source but he realizes too late.

Water wraiths and their siren sisters cut through the cool waters like a sword through the wind, their webbed fingers eager to grab at the deviant of a man responsible for savagely murdering countless of their brothers and sisters in cold blood just for sport. One of them pause, the features of her face rippling with the tide but there’s no mistaking the respectful nod of her head—one that you return.

You don’t linger to watch the rest, your anger fizzling out and all that’s left is the desire to go home and spend a whole week hidden in the sheets with your mate. If he’d still have you after all this. Bare feet trudge against the ground until you stand before your family, the barrier lowered. You can’t meet their eyes, the wounds too raw and their pity too palpable but the familiar comfort of cool shadows drape over you, evaluating and assessing before relaying their findings back to their master. “I—“

Azriel’s body collides with yours before the whole sentence can even form, strong arms wrapping you up and tugging you as close as he could. His hands go over every inch of you, muttering under his breath about how he’d never let you out of his sight again. “You’re okay,” His shoulders visibly relax, when he can’t find a hint of damage on you—not even a bruise. “Thank gods you’re okay.”

Your eyes slide past him, lips pursing as you prepared yourself for whatever came next. You’d killed a High Lord—there’s no chance anyone would just let that go. “Rhysand, I—“

“You didn’t do anything,” He swiftly cuts in, regarding you fondly even if his stomach swells with guilt at the thought of being the one who put you in harms way in the first place. “You’re safe and that’s all that matters.”

For now.

[carpentvrs]

VICIOUS – Theodore Nott

pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)

summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.

based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter

warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words

a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!

„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.

You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.

Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.

Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.

It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.

Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.

Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“

You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.

You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.

Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.

And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.

In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.

“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.

“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”

“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.

“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“

curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.

It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.

“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.

You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.

It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.

And he felt it too.

Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.

It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.

You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.

And that scared him.

He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.

Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.

But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.

As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.

Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.

Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Theo sighed.

“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”

“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.

Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.

All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

And ater that kiss, everything changed.

For the worse

His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.

“Did I do so-“

“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”

“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?

“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”

You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.

But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.

“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.

“It’s from professor McGonagall”

“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.

You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.

“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.

Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.

“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.

You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.

“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.

It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.

Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.

She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.

“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.

“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”

But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?

Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.

But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.

Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;

revenge is a dish best served cold.

And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.

So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.

You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.

Today, you wouldn’t.

After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not.”

“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.

“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.

They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.

Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.

You locked eyes.

Your breath hitched.

Goosebumps formed all over your body.

You looked away.

Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.

You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.

Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.

He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.

He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.

“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.

“I’ll go with y-“

“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”

You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.

You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.

“Then take ‘em off”

Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.

And so did his voice.

You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.

“What do you want, Nott?”

“We need to talk.”

“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”

Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“

“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.

You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“

“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”

“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.

“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”

You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

You looked up again.

Took a step forward.

And smashed your lips against his.

Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.

“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.

“I like you too, Theo.”

His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.

And neither of you let go.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

“Red doesn’t go well with green.”

“Nah, I think it does.”

last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!

[xoheewon]

His Majesty- PSH

synopsis: you’re the prince’s new attendant, attending not only to him but also to his son. what’s in store for you in the circle of the “cold” and “heartless” prince?

genre: fluff, angst(?), smut (one smut scene lmao), royalty au, dilf!sunghoon, prince!sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x f!reader

wc: 5k

warnings: smut, pussy eating, unprotected sex, breeding, dick sucking, cursing, fingering, violence(?), gossip

note: ignore the formatting, i’m too lazy to change it, also excuse any typos/grammar inaccuracies 😁 i hope y’all enjoy this! this is my second time writing smut so hopefully again, not ass lol.

Becoming the prince's new personal attendant was a huge honor and opportunity you could not pass up. Your family was struggling immensely and taking this job would help stabilize you financially.

You’ve heard rumors about the prince, that he’s cold and heartless. You didn’t care, as long as your family was taken care of. You’re not fragile, you’ve been through enough to handle him.

You currently find yourself in the presence of the head attendant. The one who attends to the king and queen.

“You will attend to any and all needs of the prince, regardless of its difficulty or convenience. This also means attending to the prince’s son. He’s a year old and requires attention at all times.”

Wait, the prince has a son?

“I can see the look on your face. Yes, the prince has a son. It was unexpected and sudden but he loves his son very much, and you must treat him with the utmost care.

You nod, taking in her words with complete seriousness.

“The prince also has his concubines, you do not need to attend to them, but do be mindful of your interaction with them.”

Of course he has concubines, a typical man.

“How many are there?” You ask.

“3, Seyoon, Ana, and Jiseul. Don’t get in their way and you’ll be fine. And don’t tell anyone I told you this, but the prince definitely favors Jiseul.”

She leans in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper,

“I know she hopes for a more…romantic relationship with him and for that reason she’s very possessive. Definitely don’t get in her way, the other two are nicer, but I would still avoid them.”

You take everything in and nod. Okay, you can do this.

The attendant continues, “You will address the prince as ‘your majesty’ and that only. Same goes for the king and queen shall you ever encounter them. You will address his concubines as ‘ms’.

The only one you can address informally here is the prince’s son, his name is Taesun,” she takes a breather, “you will begin attending to the prince immediately, go to him and do what he tells you. If your services are not needed at the moment you shall attend to his son.”

With that, she takes off, giving you an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

You already memorized where everything is in the castle after your tour, your own room is in a section of the castle reserved for staff.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way to the prince’s room.

Before you can knock, you hear a loud moan from behind the door.

“Fuck, Sunghoon!”

Oh. He must be busy.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, how uncouth.

Figuring he doesn’t need you at the moment, you instead venture off to find Taesun.

The attendant, who said to call her Yeeun, told you the baby was with his grandparents.

This may give you the opportunity to introduce yourself to the king and queen. Even if the prince is cold and heartless, maybe they’re not.

You make your way to their chambers, hearing a loud coo, telling you Taesun is with them.

You knock, albeit hesitantly, waiting to be invited inside.

“Come in!”

You open the door, immediately bowing and introducing yourself, “Your majesties, I am the prince’s new personal attendant. It's an honor to be in your presence.”

“And what’s your name, dear?” The queen asks, holding Taesun. You can’t help but coo internally, he’s the cutest baby you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, your majesty. I went to the prince’s room to see if my services were needed but he seemed…preoccupied, so I came to find Taesun instead.”

Both the king and queen roll their eyes at your words, “That boy, he’s too obsessed with sex. Maybe you’ll be a breath of fresh air for him,” the king says.

“I’ll do my best. Does Taesun need to be attended to?”

“Yes actually,” the queen starts, “it’s time for his feeding. You can take him.”

You walk forward, carefully taking Taesun into your arms.

“You’re very pretty dear,” the queen says, making you blush.

“Coming from you, your majesty, I’m honored.”

You bid them farewell, taking Taesun to the kitchen where his milk and bottles are.

It’s somewhat hard to do one handed, but you manage to make a bottle for him.

You weren’t told where to feed him, so you take him back to your room.

Inside your room, it’s somewhat dark and dingy but it’s enough.

You notice a crib in the corner of the room, you figure you’ll have Taesun enough to have a place for him to sleep in your room.

As you feed him, his big eyes look into yours and he smiles. You smile back, brushing your thumb along his soft cheek.

He takes about 20 minutes to finish the bottle, and after he’s done, you gently begin to burp him, with a cloth over your shoulder in case.

Within another half an hour, after he’s been burped, he begins to yawn, and you gather he’s ready for a nap.

You gently lay him in the crib, making sure there’s nothing restricting him or in his way.

He falls asleep quickly and you do your best to not make any noise.

There’s a small dresser with books in it, so you pick one up to pass the time.

It’s only an hour later when there’s a faint knock on your door.

You check to make sure Taesun hasn’t woken, before answering the door.

The prince stands there with a woman you can only assume is one of his concubines.

You bow immediately, “Your majesty, Ms.”

“You're my new attendant?”

His voice is rough and monotone.

You look up, meeting his eyes, they're dark with no light in them.

Nodding, you stand up straight, “Yes, your majesty.”

He moves past you as does the woman, and you don’t miss the dirty look she gives you.

You shouldn’t assume, but you have a feeling this must be Jiseul.

The prince makes his way to the crib where his son rests, running a hand over his forehead.

“Has he eaten?”

“Yes, your majesty, he ate and was burped. I put him down an hour ago.”

“It’s about time for him to wake up,” the prince says, and just as he finishes his sentence, Taesun begins to cry.

Sunghoon immediately picks him up, shushing him, “It’s okay, daddy’s here.”

You see his eyes change in that moment, from dark and lifeless to full of love.

Taesun continues to cry, no matter how much his father coos and shushes him.

“Here let me,” the woman says, taking Taesun from his father, “Hi sweetie, it’s auntie Jiseul!”

Ah, so you were right.

But no matter how much Jiseul rocks him, he refuses to stop crying.

It’s starting to hurt your ears with how loud his cries are, you walk forward, “May I?”

Jiseul gives you another look, but you ignore it as you take Taesun into your arms.

Once he sees you, his cries immediately cease, and instead he begins to smile and laugh.

You murmur sweet words to him, tickling his belly as he laughs loudly.

You look up and the prince and Jiseul are looking at you astounded.

“No ones ever been able to get him to stop crying so quickly,” the prince says.

You give him back to Sunghoon, who smiles down at his son.

“Is there anything you need from me, your majesty?” You ponder.

“No, not at the moment. We’ll go.”

With that, he and Jiseul leave with Taesun.

You huff, Taesun wasn’t any hard work but something about the other two made you suddenly feel exhausted.

The next day, after washing up and making yourself presentable, you make your way to the prince’s room.

You knock and enter after hearing him invite you in.

“Good morning, your majesty, may I be of any assistance?”

“Yes, we’re having breakfast with the Sim’s, please attend to me. Afterwards, I’ll have you take Taesun.”

You immediately begin gathering an outfit for the prince.

He’s in a robe, you assume fresh out of the shower.

You get undergarments for him as well as a shirt and slacks.

When you turn back around, the prince has dropped his robe.

You squeak, turning back around immediately.

“What? Never seen a man naked before?”

He’s teasing you, you can tell by the tone in his voice. What happened to the cold and heartlessness?

Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you.

His hand runs up your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Shouldn’t you turn around and face me?” He teases, lightly pushing your shoulder so you’re turned.

You avoid looking in his eyes or looking down.

His hand finds your chin, pushing your head up so your eyes meet.

“You’re a pretty thing, you know that?”

You can’t think of a response without making a fool out of yourself, so you just hand him his underwear and pants.

He chuckles, taking the garments from you and stepping back to put them on.

Once his bottom half is covered, you assist him in putting on his shirt and buttoning it.

Taesun is in his crib, watching intently.

“Take Taesun to the garden, he likes looking at the flowers,” Sunghoon says, adjusting his collar.

You nod, taking Taesun out of his crib as he babbles.

You open the door to find Jiseul about to knock.

Bowing, you walk past her, making your way to the garden.

Taesun immediately starts grabbing at the flowers, giggling and smiling.

You point out the types of flowers to him. Dahlia, carnation, rose, tulip, iris.

You know he doesn’t understand, but you enjoy talking to him anyway.

After soaking in the sun and admiring the flowers, a servant comes outside, garnering your attention.

“Your presence is requested in the dining room, Y/N,” she says, not giving you a chance to ask what for.

You waste no time and make your way to the dining room, Taesun in your arms.

The dining room is full, with the king and queen along with who you assume are the Sim’s.

“There they are,” the queen says, gesturing to you and Taesun.

You bow your head slightly, not wanting to rock Taesun too much, “Good morning.”

“This is Chaeyoon and Hyungjae Sim and their son, Jake,” the king introduces them, bowing their heads to you.

“Y/N is lovely and already has Sunghoon’s favor which is unseen,” the queen says, looking at you adoringly.

“Dada,” Taesun mumbles, and you begin to hand him over to Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stops you, instead pulling you down into his lap.

You blush, whispering “Your majesty, this isn’t appropriate.”

“Whatever I want to do, is appropriate.”

That shuts you up and you quietly bounce Taesun in your lap while everyone else stares at you.

Sunghoon continues the conversation like nothing is off and you keep quiet, not speaking unless you’re spoken to.

“It’s time for Taesun’s feeding,” you whisper to Sunghoon as the baby starts to whine.

“Let’s go then,” he replies.

You stand up as does the prince.

“Excuse us,” he says to the table, “Y/N and I must attend to Taesun.”

Sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, nor wait for an answer before guiding you out of the dining room with a hand on your lower back.

Neither of you say a word, making your way to the kitchen to fetch a bottle.

Sunghoon watches you feed Taesun, feeling something he can’t describe.

“I’m intrigued by you,” he says.

You look up, eyes wide.

“What do you mean, your majesty?”

“There’s something about you,” he responds, “I can’t put my finger on what it is though.”

You nod, “Well, I hope whatever it is, it’s good.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything else.

Once you’ve finished feeding and burping Taesun, you hand him over to his father.

“I’ll take care of him from here, you go rest,” the prince tells you.

You bow, “Yes, your majesty.”

You leave him in the kitchen, making your way back to your room.

Before you can make it there, a hand grabs you from behind, making you spin around.

Jiseul stands there, looking furious.

“Can I help you, Ms?”

“Yes, you can, by staying the hell away from Sunghoon!”

You sigh, “That’s kind of hard, considering I’m his attendant, Ms.”

“I saw you in the dining room, all cozy on his lap. Don’t act like you don’t want him. You’re nothing but a whore tasked to help him, no more, no less.”

You gulp, trying not to get frustrated, “I do not want his majesty, and yes I am nothing more than an attendant. I will continue to do my job with less interaction.”

“Good,” she says, “and don’t let me see you all over him again.”

With that, she turns and walks away.

You finally get inside your room, trudging to your bed.

You’re ready for this day to be over.

As you lay down, you close your eyes and surely enough, you fall asleep quickly.

When you open your eyes, it’s night time.

You don’t know how long you slept for, but clearly, you needed it.

A loud babble catches your attention, and you see Taesun in the crib of your room.

“What are you doing here?” You say sweetly, making your way to him.

Picking him up, you rock him in your arms as he giggles.

“Your dad must be busy, huh?”

Taesun just gurgles in response.

“I hope he keeps our relationship professional, I don’t need anybody targeting me.” You sigh, taking him back to bed with you.

As you hold him in your arms, your eyes begin to droop again.

You don’t even hear the knock on your door.

It opens and Sunghoon stands there, looking around until his eyes find you, half asleep with Taesun in your arms, he chuckles.

He closes the door, making his way over to you.

You suddenly perk up, “Your majesty! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“You look comfortable,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed by your feet.

“I’m so sorry. I woke up and Taesun was watching me so I figured we could just rest for a couple more minutes. He’ll probably be up now, I’m sorry.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it.”

Before you know it, you and Sunghoon are engaging in rapid conversation.

He asks about your life in the kingdom, why you wanted this job, and other minuscule things.

You ask about him, trying not to be too intrusive.

But Sunghoon opens up well, telling you everything you want to know.

He’s actually not cold and heartless, in fact he’s the opposite. He’s sweet, kind and loving.

Especially towards his son, who you learned was conceived by a former concubine who baby trapped him.

She thought she’d be given the honor of marrying the prince, but instead she was kicked to the curb and had custody taken away from her.

It’s terrible that the prince's trust was betrayed like that.

You wonder if any of his other concubines wish for a higher position than just concubines? Probably Jiseul, at the very least. She’s the only one you’ve encountered, the other two seem very…in the wind.

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Sunghoon asks, pinching your leg.

“Nothing,” you say, “just…surprised. You’re nothing like what people think of you. Like what I thought of you.”

He waves his hand, “It’s common, you have nothing to worry about.”

Taesun suddenly begins to squirm in your arms, having woken up from his own nap.

He looks at you, smiling and babbling.

“Hey, look who’s here. It’s daddy!” You hold him up, facing Sunghoon who smiles gleefully.

“There’s my big guy,” he says, taking Taesun.

He kisses his son on the cheek, while Taesun has his eyes focused on you.

“You like Y/N, yeah?” Sunghoon coos.

Taesun is suddenly reaching his arms out, making grabby hands towards you, “Mama.”

Both you and Sunghoon freeze, looking up at each other in somewhat horror.

“Mama!” Taesun repeats, still reaching for you.

“I- oh my god. I’m so sorry! I don’t know why he’s saying that,” you say, fully in shock.

“I don’t know what to say,” Sunghoon responds, “he’s never said mama before. Don’t say sorry! I just don’t know where this is suddenly coming from.”

You curl up, putting space between you and the prince.

Sunghoon stares at Taesun in his hands, before looking up at you.

“If you don’t mind, can he continue to call you that? It’s totally okay if not, but he’s never had a mother figure.”

You’re flabbergasted. The prince is asking you to act as a mother to his son?

“I… okay. That’s fine, your majesty.”

“Sunghoon, call me Sunghoon.”

You take a second, feeling it at the tip of your tongue, “Sunghoon.”

You make eye contact with the prince and he smiles at you, a genuine smile.

Smiling back, the moment is interrupted by Taesun, “Mama! Mama!”

“Okay,” Sunghoon laughs, “go to mama.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, you, mama?

Taesun crawls on the bed, back into your arms.

“Mama’s here.”

In 2 days, you managed to capture the attention of the prince and his son.

You just hope this doesn’t put a target on your back.

It’s been about 2 weeks since you started your job and you’ve been loving it.

You and Sunghoon actually feel like friends, as crazy as that sounds.

Taesun is obsessed with calling you mama.

It comes out of his mouth almost every minute.

You’re starting to love him, as if he was your own.

Making your way through the hallways, you hear a whisper of your name.

You pause in your step, hiding behind a corner to hear the conversation.

“I heard she was so desperate, she begged the prince to make her one of his concubines.”

What?

“Rumor says he only allowed it because Taesun likes her.”

What bullshit are they spouting?

You frown, why would people think this of you?

“Eavesdropping? That’s not very nice,” a voice says behind you.

You turn, facing Jiseul as she smirks at you.

“Did you start those rumors?” You ask, anger making its way onto your face.

“Maybe I did, it only makes sense, doesn’t it?”

You hate that smug tone in her voice.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is coming up and making contact with her cheek.

The sound resonates in the quiet hallway.

“You bitch! Did you just slap me?” She nearly screams.

You hear footsteps shuffling towards you as the two servants who were talking about you make their way to you.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” One of them says, grabbing your shoulders.

You yank yourself out of her hold, “Don’t touch me!”

Turning to face Jiseul, you step closer until there’s little space between you.

“Don’t fuck with me, you’ll regret it.”

She gapes at you, as do the servants watching you walk off back to your room.

Once inside, you just scream.

“Fuck!” You scream, you just did something really bad.

You start to pace.

That was a mistake, you shouldn’t have done that.

But god, that bitch just pisses you off.

She clearly can’t stand the fact that you’ve gotten closer to Sunghoon but to stoop low enough to start rumors? What is she,12?

Your door suddenly opens, Sunghoon enters the room and he doesn’t look happy.

“Did you really slap Jiseul? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Of course she ran to Sunghoon.

Is he going to believe you?

“She started rumors about me and was mocking me about them, I just snapped!” You defend yourself diligently, refusing to back down.

“What rumors?” Sunghoon asks, closing the door behind him.

“That I,” you sigh, tears prick your eyes and you look up to not let them fall, “that I begged you for sex. To be one of your concubines.”

Sunghoon’s face poses one of confusion.

“Jiseul did that? Are you sure?”

“She doesn’t like the fact that we’re kinda friends! She told me 2 weeks ago to stay away from you. You may not believe me but honestly I don’t care, but I know the truth!”

You wipe the tears now falling from your eyes, not wanting him to see you vulnerable.

He stands there, taking in everything you said, “I’ll handle it. Just don’t go slapping people, okay?”

You nod, sniffling as he leaves the room.

Making your way to your bed, you lay there as you cry.

He said he would handle it, but why does it feel like you just got scolded?

You don’t know how long you lay there crying, but after what seems like forever, a knock is heard at your door.

Getting up, you wipe your eyes and face, trying to make yourself look presentable.

When you open the door, the queen is standing there with Taesun in hand.

“Hello dear, he was asking for his mama.”

You take Taesun eagerly, at least one person here didn’t think the worst of you.

“Is something wrong, sweetheart?” The queen asks, stroking your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you speak, “No, your majesty. I’m fine, especially now that he’s here,” gesturing to Taesun.

“My husband and I were hoping you’d join us for dinner,” she says.

“You want me to join you?” You ask in shock.

Oh no, are they going to fire you for what you did?

“Yes, we want to get to know you more, so please, do join us.”

You give her the okay and she leaves Taesun with you.

Putting Taesun in his crib, you begin to wash up and change for dinner.

As you're changing your dress, your door opens, Sunghoon enters.

“Sunghoon!” You squeal, your arms coming up to cover your bare chest.

You turn away from him, making him see your back.

Hearing the door close, Sunghoon makes his way to you, his hand running up your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “I should’ve knocked.”

His chest meets your back as you stand with little to no space between you.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, licking your dry lips as his hands cup your shoulders.

He pulls your dress up, covering your breasts as you let your arms fall.

Once you’re fully situated, he zips your dress, his cold hands ghosting across your warm skin.

“Let’s go to dinner,” he says.

You pick Taesun up, holding him with one arm while Sunghoon takes the hand of your other.

Making your way to dinner, you ignore the heat rising to your cheeks.

Why does this feel so domestic? Like, you’re a family?

Is that what you secretly want?

Maybe Jiseul is right, maybe you do want the prince.

Dinner goes smoothly, the king and queen ask you plenty of questions about your life, but never do they sound condescending or rude.

After dinner is finished, Sunghoon asks his parents to take Taesun.

“Y/N and I have some business to attend to,” he tells them.

They look at him suspiciously, but don’t question him.

But that doesn’t mean you’re not confused, what business is he talking about?”

Sunghoon leads you through the castle until you’re faced with his own bedroom door.

His bedroom, somewhere you’ve never been.

As he opens the door, the smell of mint and pine make their presence known.

Both of you take your shoes off.

“What are we doing, Sunghoon?”

He closes the door behind you and you can hear the lock turn.

There’s an ottoman in front of his bed that Sunghoon sits on, his legs spread.

And oh, does his lap look inviting.

“Come.” He pats his lap.

You’re hesitant but don’t want to disobey him, so you quietly walk forward, steps slow.

You sit on his lap and his hands immediately find your waist.

“I took care of Jiseul,” he whispers into your ear.

You gulp, his voice is husky and you try not to let it get to you.

“What did you do?”

“Told her if she ever threatens you again, she’ll pay the price.”

“But why?” You ask, “I’m nothing more than your attendant, at best your friend. She’s been with you for how long?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, “I care about you in a way I’ve never cared for another person, other than Taesun that is.”

You can’t help but squirm in his lap.

The way he talks is mesmerizing. You can’t help the wetness that pools between your thighs.

You know it’s wrong, you shouldn’t be thinking of him in this way, but damn if he’s not attractive.

His hand trails up your back, pulling down your dress zipper.

Your breath catches in your throat as his hands pull your arms out of the dress, dragging it down until it’s bunched at your waist.

His head hooks on your shoulder, hands coming up to cup your breasts.

You gasp, “Sunghoon, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why,” he hums, “what’s so wrong about this?”

His fingers tweak your nipples and a moan rips out of your throat.

“Sensitive hmm?” He teases, squeezing your breasts in his large hands.

You lean back, your back meeting his chest.

“Sunghoon,” you whimper, squirming in his lap again.

You can feel his dick hardening in his pants.

At least you’re not the only one feeling something.

“Stand up,” he says, and you listen.

He pulls your dress the rest of the way down, leaving you in your panties, before taking you back into his lap.

“What do you want from me, baby?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, leaving goosebumps.

“Want you,” you whine.

“Want me where? Show me.”

You take his left hand, bringing it down to your soaked panties.

Sunghoon breathes heavily, “All for me?”

You nod, squealing as his fingers make their way inside your underwear, rubbing up and down your folds.

He pulls them out, bringing the fingers to his mouth, moaning around them at the taste of you.

“So good, baby.”

He brings them back to your folds, this time, rubbing soft, lazy circles on your clit.

“So fucking wet for me, god I could drown in this pussy.”

He inserts a finger inside your hole, the tightness making him hiss in need.

Soon he has two fingers inside, pumping them in and out, curling them in just the right ways.

Sunghoon takes his fingers out, making you whine in protest.

“Patience,” he says.

He gathers your legs in one hand while the other wraps around your back, lifting you up as he stands.

“I need my mouth on you immediately.”

He places you on the bed, climbing on it and in between your legs.

His gaze is hungry as he begins to pull your panties down your legs.

Throwing them somewhere, he wastes no time.

His tongue swipes up and down your folds, his lips coming up to suck on your clit.

“Fuck, Sunghoon!” You’re nearly screaming as he moves between sucking your clit and fucking your hole with his tongue.

Your hands grab his hair, messing up the previously near locks.

You feel your orgasm approaching quickly, letting Sunghoon know with a whine and a tug on his hair.

He doesn’t stop thrusting his tongue inside you until you’re cumming on it.

Lapping up all your cum, he leaves one last kiss on your clit before coming up.

His mouth is covered in your release and you feel almost proud, like you’re claiming him.

Snapped out of your daze, you see Sunghoon pulling his pants and underwear down, letting his cock spring free.

It’s thick and long, veiny and bulging with the tip raging red.

You salivate, wanting nothing more than to have him in your mouth.

“You want my cock in your pretty little mouth?” He says, noticing your eyes on it.

You hum, opening your mouth and lolling your tongue out.

Sunghoon curses, head thrown back as he makes his way up the bed.

His knees rest on either side of your body while he taps the tip of his cock on your tongue before sliding it into your awaiting mouth.

He groans at the heat and wetness, sliding in and out, fucking your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his head, dipping it into his slit.

“Fuck, such a warm, pretty mouth. All mine, yeah?”

You nod as best as you can with his cock down your throat, gagging slightly as it reaches the back.

Sunghoon picks up the pace, using your mouth until he’s cumming inside it.

You swallow all his cum eagerly, showing him as he chuckles, “Good girl.”

Sunghoon maneuvers back down the bed until he’s faced with your cunt again. Your hole is clenching, begging for his cock.

He guides his cock to your hole, slowly slipping inside as you moan.

Starting slow so as not to hurt you, he thrusts taking in the tightness around his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, love this pussy.”

The only thing you can manage is to moan, repeatedly.

“Fuck Sunghoon, so good. Love your cock, so much,” you say, a permanent whine in your voice.

“Yeah? You love my cock?”

You nod incessantly.

He picks up the pace, thrusting faster and harder as his tip kisses your cervix.

You scream, the pleasure almost painful.

“Gonna cum in this cunt, breed you. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Sunghoon, yes! Love it.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as he fucks you.

Soon, you’re cumming again, creaming around Sunghoon’s cock.

He follows, cumming inside, painting your walls white.

Once he’s done, he pulls out, his cum immediately leaking out of you.

He takes two fingers and stuffs it back in, making you whimper.

“I meant it when I said I’d breed you.”

He lays next to you, as you breathe heavily, coming down from your own high.

“You know, after this, I know I can’t let you go, ever,” Sunghoon says.

“I don’t mind that, but what does that make us? I don’t wanna be one of your concubines, Sunghoon.”

“You won’t be, you’ll be mine. And I’ll be yours.”

“You’d give up your concubines, just like that?”

“For you? Anything.”

He looks into your eyes, leaning forward and leaving a passionate kiss on your lips. You kiss back with equal passion, pulling him closer.

Sleep overtakes you soon enough, with Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around your waist.

Seyoon, Ana and Jiseul move out the next day.

You don’t miss the glare Jiseul sends you, but you ignore it.

Sunghoon is yours and you’re his.

Whatever that means for the future, you’re not sure, but for now this is good enough.

As you change Taesun’s diaper, Sunghoon comes up from behind you, leaving a kiss on your neck.

“How’s my beautiful girl?”

“Good, great, amazing, everything,” you laugh.

“That’s all I could ask for.”

Washing your hands, you put Taesun on the floor.

Sunghoon pulls you towards him, dropping a kiss on your lips.

Something moving out of the corner of your eye catches your attention.

“Oh my god! Sunghoon, Taesun is walking!”

Sunghoon whips around and sure enough, his son is on his feet, walking towards the bed.

“Holy shit!”

Taesun makes it to the bed, holding onto the railing as he giggles up at you both.

“Taesun, you’re amazing!” Sunghoon picks the boy up, swinging him in his arms.

You take him into your arms, kissing all over his face.

“Mama’s so proud of you!”

Sunghoon looks at you both, the most important people to him, and smiles.

This is his family.

[bratbby333]

your beauty never scared me ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ suguru geto

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!

Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…

...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.

It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…

...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.

The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking. 

She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you. 

There’s something peaceful about loneliness…

…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing. 

God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable. 

Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?

“You just haven’t found the right one!” 

“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”

“You gotta put yourself back out there!” 

Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it. 

The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…

…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was. 

Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…

…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism. 

So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?

Part of you feels guilty…

…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.

A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…

…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.

Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.

Sitting before you is the woman you love…

…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her. 

But in this moment…

…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating. 

You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all. 

Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again. 

But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?

You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…

…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it. 

It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?

You would accept her…

…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.

You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right? 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing? 

Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.

Does he know every little thing about you? Sure. 

Does he care for your well-being? Yeah. 

Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all. 

But so what? That's what friends are for. 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls. 

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were. 

You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something���real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away. 

You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.

Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way. 

God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together. 

What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late. 

Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress. 

If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too. 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings. 

You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you. 

I'm not going through this again. I refuse.

You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.

The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right? 

Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.

“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble. 

Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce. 

After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.

“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.

Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them. 

Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”

“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on.  A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?” 

“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.

You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.” 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin. 

He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.

Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.

He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.

The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.

“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you. 

Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.

He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours. 

“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.

“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.

Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.

“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.

He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be. 

He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”

And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all. 

Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.

Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you. 

“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru. 

He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his. 

“Me neither.”

In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.

Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh

my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!

alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼

tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke

likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[halohalona]

Fair

"It's what my heart just yearns to say In ways that can't be said"

Logan reflects on his life, sense of self, and his relationship with you

Logan Howlett x Reader

this was inspired by the song "Fair" by The Amazing Devil. You can listen to the song while reading but it isn't necessary. i wanted to capture the song's emotion in this fic, and hopefully, I did.

ok this is take 2 of posting this 'cause the first time had a shit ton of typos and could not live with myself letting ya'll read a fic with typos (especially when i wanted this to be very emotional), partially beta-read, hopefully, it's not as typo-filled as before

masterlist

warnings/tags: emotional hurt/comfort, takes place after the events of DP&W, logan cries, reference to "Beanie" (drabble i wrote), a glimpse of domesticity, and i honestly don't know what else to tag.

Sunlight pours into the room through the gaps of the curtain as Logan stirs awake on your chest. You’ve been awake for a while now, just playing with his hair and humming the first song that came to mind.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you softly greet him with a warm smile. He looks up at you, his own tender smile gracing his lips. A smile reserved only for you. He doesn’t say anything, too busy admiring your bedhead, appreciating how beautiful you looked in the morning.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck as his smile widens. “Where have you been all my life?” he murmurs softly against your skin.

“In another universe?” you reply playfully.

His smile slowly fades at the thought. His face is still in the crook of your neck as he mumbles “It’s not fair,” hoping you wouldn’t hear, but you do anyway.

“What’s not fair love?” you ask.

“It’s not fair how the universe hid you away from me,” he joked. You gently hug his head and chuckle. He said it jokingly but you know that’s not what he really wanted to say.

It was Wade who introduced you to each other during one of his many parties. You were his neighbor across the hall. After some mildly uncomfortable introductions and comments from Wade, Logan irritably told him to shut the fuck up which led to him eventually leaving you two alone.

You never met the Logan of your world, and Logan never met the you in his world. Sometimes you wonder if you ever did meet the Logan of your word, would he be the same as the man you’re lying with right now? Probably not, and you think it’s for the best.

He stays quiet for a while before releasing you from his embrace and sitting up.

He stares at the wall, pondering about you, your relationship, this world he’s in, everything.

His mind wanders back to the time when you made that odd-looking hat because you said it reminded you of his hair—he couldn’t help but smile, realizing in that moment that he would cherish everything about you, no matter how unusual it was. He remembered the night you two were watching a horror movie on the couch and you were so scared that you somehow found a way to burrow yourself between his back and the couch to get away from the horrifying scenes unfolding on the TV. In that moment he felt a deep and instinctive need to protect you from anything that would frighten or harm you, real or not. And then there was the time you went out of your way to get him the watch he had been staring at in the mall; it made him realize just how much you cared.

Maybe fate brought you to each other, though he’s not entirely sure. But he was sure about one thing: he wants you. He wants this life he’s created with you. He has never felt so content, calm, and happy. Yet, he’s convinced himself that he doesn’t deserve any of this—especially not you.

“Love? Is everything alright?” your voice laced with worry brings him out of his contemplation and back to the present.

God knows he wasn’t a good man, and he’s told you so many times but you stand by him. If he hadn’t already lost everything, he would be willing to do so, if you asked. And that’s what he tells you.

You move to straddle on his lap and cradle his face in your hands.

“Hey, it’s me,” you say softly. “You may not be a good man, and as you said, you’ve done bad things. But what’s happened has happened, and you can’t change that. Even if you could and you did, we wouldn’t be here right now. You may think you don’t deserve me but isn’t that also up to me? I want you, and you want me. Let’s keep it that way, alright?”

He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close. Afraid that if he moved even the slightest bit you would disappear along with his reason for everything. You don't say anything. You let him hold you until his heart and mind stop racing.

Running your hands through his hair and hugging him against your chest you whisper, “It’s not fair,” echoing his words from earlier. “It’s not fair how much I love you even when you piss me off and act like you don’t need me.”

You settle onto his lap, and softly press your forehead against his. A tender smile graces his lips as he gazes into your eyes. “Well, if that’s the case,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere, “you have no idea how unreasonably in love I am with you. With everything you do, with just… you.” he pulls away, holding your wrist and laying his head in your palm, more tears threatening to fall, "You make me feel normal when I'm with you.”

Fighting back your own tears, you whisper, “I love you, and I want you to remember that. I love you so much it hurts. And it hurts me as much knowing you don’t believe that you deserve it, because you do. I love you, so please don’t push me away” you bring your lips to his in a soft and tender kiss.

"I love you more than words can say, and I promise I'll never push you away again.”

“And I’ll stay by your side, no matter what happens,” you added, holding him close.

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! I have a Black butler request if you don’t mind! (It can be yandere but If you can make it not to noticeable??? If that makes sense.)

If I may could I request a Ciel Phantomhive x Cruella De Vill reader? I mean not exactly like Cruella but the fact she was born with hair spilt between black and white, she owns multiple Dalmatians which are really aggressive guard dogs for her. And she has a wonderful sense of fashion, even though most her clothes are only black, white or red. She even has a nickname that combines her name and Cruel together (like “Cruel-(/N)”) because she can be really honest and it comes off as rude. She is short temper but unlike Cruella she is only occasionally sassy but most of the time she is quiet because she used to get made fun of for her hair.

Also I was hoping it would be a oneshot, with a few hc. But if that’s to much it can just be hc! Thank you and have a nice day!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I hope I did this rq justice because I absolutely loved it. Detailed rqs my beloveds. As you ask, I did some hcs and then wrote a little drabble, though I do apologize for such delay in answer it. Hope you like darling <33

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic content. Maybe typos too.

☆*: In Ciel's ears, the news of a figure with two-tone hair who only dresses in black and red reaches him through gossip that Lau felt the need to share. The rumors, however, were not enough to capture the earl's attention at first. Who cares if Londoners are talking about this girl because she acts different and has a sharp tongue? Who cares if she has some protective dogs who can attack on command?

☆*: Certainly not Ciel. He has better things to worry about being the Queen's Watchdog besides running his own company. Gossip and rumors are not something that holds his attention unless they are related to the murderers who killed his parents.

☆*: So it takes a while before you finally get to know each other and he can get a glimpse of your strong genius. And heavens, he's enchanted, even if he doesn't know it, feelings aren't Ciel's thing. One thing he knows, this night will be one he would never forget.

...

Reluctantly, Ciel was participating in the celebration. A glass of juice in his hand as he watched each of the nobles approach the throne, kneel and say their rehearsed congratulations. So typical of nobles, so insincere. He hated it here, he could be doing so many things right in the comfort of his office. Still, he smiled and played his part when all adults around him looked down on him just because he was the only child here.

The starry night became filled with light and laughter; The Queen was throwing a party to celebrate another birthday well spent. Her age-kissed skin was still glowing, her eyes carrying a tinge of unforgettable joy, and her voice a jovial tone. As usual, she sat on her throne and waited for one by one the nobles to greet and boast about the gifts that were certainly better than the others.

It was funny to watch though. They all just seemed like jealous peacocks, huffing and puffing their feathers, wanting the queen attention on them.

Sebastian when can we leave? was what he wanted to ask to the butler at his side. What he almost asked. But right at that moment he heard a commotion.

A few meters ahead stood the notorious Cru-y/n DeVil, your presence commanding attention. Ciel couldn't help but be drawn to you, his gaze fixating on you with a mixture of intrigue and caution. Despite your reputation, he couldn't deny your beauty, a striking contrast to the darkness that surrounded your name. You were young, much like himself, yet exuded a confidence that belied your age, almost as if you too had to grown fast to protect yourself.

You seemed to be fighting a much older and powerful woman. The duchess who was always looking to fight someone and today had just found her new victim. But you aren't having any of that, making exaggerated gestures and smiling mockingly at the duchess.

Ciel observed the scene with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, at least the party turned out to be entertaining with this little fight happening and the queen was also watching you two too intently, curious, not at all bothered by it. Ciel couldn't help but roll his eyes when the duchess continued to argue and pointed her finger at you.

"Your hat is adorable" You say in a loud and clear tone, with the sweetest smile you can produce. "I'm sure it was worth sacrificing Big Bird, its poor beautiful yellow feathers wasted on this hat that perfectly fit your head."

A murmur starts around the two of you, some are laughing loudly, others are whispering among themselves, repeating what you said. The duchess, wanting to appear strong and resilient, fixes her khaki yellow hat - that barely fits in her head, lifts her chin an extra millimeter and leaves. However, Ciel knew that your comment would still haunt her for months to come. Today she had lost a fight and was insulted.

Undeniable was that the hat was horrendous.

Holding back a laugh that seems to want to escape him anyway, Ciel takes off his hat in greeting to you as soon as your eyes meet. He understood now why everyone was talking about you so much. To the court you were like a fresh breath of air, devastating if you hate it, great if you like it. And he absolutely like it. Not a lot of younger aristocrats behave this way and he really needs someone different to spend time, as Elizabeth is quite overwhelming with her affection and Sullivan is busy.

He approach you and with this gesture, plans to know more about you. He is now curious and his curiosity must be satisfied.

[bloodibambiidoll]

You’ll Never Be A Burden

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: When you can’t get out of bed, answer your phone, or shake the feeling of hopelessness your boyfriend is there to reassure you that he will always be there for you no matter what. WK: 1.6k moodboard

Warnings: Talk of mental illness, depression, feeling unloved/unworthy of love, not being able to get out of bed, insomnia, food mention, hurt/comfort, Eddie being the sweetest sweetie. Just all around this is centered around mental illness and how it feels to be too depressed to get out of bed. Please let me know if I missed any. Also I wrote this in one sitting so there’s probably typos. 18+MDNI

A/N: I don’t specifically mention a certain mental illness but for me this is how it feels when I’m having a BPD episode. So for me this symbolizes borderline depression but it can apply to any type of depression or mental low. I’ve been really going through it lately, so I just harnessed how I feel into writing this and it was very therapeutic. I wish Eddie could come hold me.

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been laying in bed in between awake and asleep at this point. A few hours? A day? Two? All you know is that the clock on your nightstand reads 2:48AM and you have been trying to force your brain to shut off since it read 8PM. You tried everything to calm the war raging inside your mind. You took so many deep breaths at this point you lost count, you pulled all the blankets over your head and tightened your body into the smallest ball you possibly could, you rocked back and forth while you repeated your mantra of “you’re okay” to yourself over and over again. But no matter what you did you couldn’t stop the negative thoughts from swimming around inside you.

You hated when you got like this. Overcome by this feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of shame. Loneliness. Not being able to shake the feeling as if you’re a burden to everyone around you. So you isolate yourself. Not wanting to drag anyone down with your negativity, not wanting to lash out at the people who are just trying to help you, not being able to bear the feeling of being alone in a room full of people.

Your friends had all texted and called you, social media notifications and voicemails piling up. Not even being able to muster up the energy to pick up the phone and respond to the one person you knew would make you feel better. So instead you thought of him. The way his beautiful eyes lit up when a smile spread across his lips. The way it felt to have his arms around you, his smell, his soothing voice. It’s what kept you going on days like this. Him.

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the phone. To ask him to come hold you. You were embarrassed, embarrassed of the disaster your house has become, embarrassed of your unbrushed teeth and messy hair, the pajama pants that felt like they were stuck to your body. You didn’t want him to see you like this. He’s only ever seen you like this once, and he was amazing, perfect even. But to this day you beat yourself up over those days he took care of you, washed you, held you while you sobbed, read to you in exaggerated voices until you dozed off with your head in his lap and his fingers in your hair.

You know he wouldn���t mind, that he was happy to help you, be there for you. But you were so scared of him seeing you differently and changing his mind about you. You were terrified that if he saw the real you, truly, that he would leave. You’d become too much, too little, never the right amount, just like you always did.

That’s why when you heard a knock on your door your heart race picked up, you felt your skin flush, because you knew it was him. You knew he’d come, you knew he’d be worried and you can’t decide if worrying him to the point that he showed up at your door or just texting him back was worse. You heard him knock lightly on the door a few more times before you heard the key you had given him turning the lock.

“Baby? Are you here? I just came to check on you… haven’t heard from you since yesterday morning and I was starting to worry.”

His voice became louder as he talked, his footsteps padding down the hall to your bedroom door. Your head was still shoved under your blankets so you didn’t see him but you heard the knob turn and the door swing open.

“Sweetheart…”

Eddie’s heart nearly shattered when he opened your bedroom door. Your room was trashed, the black out curtains drawn blocking out the moonlight, and even your fairy lights you always had on, even in the night, were shut off. He couldn’t see you, but he could see the outline of you and hear your breathing. He walks over to your bed and sits on the side next to the lump of blankets you’ve buried yourself in. His hand comes up and runs along your side and it causes you to jump.

“Baby… please let me help you? Let me take care of you. I know you’re scared of being a burden but you’re never a burden to me.” He continued to run his hand up and down your body, the feeling already causing your body to subconsciously relax just the tiniest bit. “Can you come out? Please? I wanna see my girl.”

“I look horrible Eddie… I don’t want you to see me like this.” You pull the blanket tighter against you, shutting him out no matter how loud your body screamed at you to just throw yourself into his arms.

“I’ve seen you wasted, vomiting your guts out in Harrington’s bathtub, it can’t be much worse than that baby. Come oooonnnnn pleeeseee. I’m not above begging.”

He chuckles, his hand squeezing your hip lightly before it resumes caressing you. You sigh, pulling the blanket back just enough to peak your eyes out and him and your heart swells. He’s so beautiful, just the sight of him made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Just being near him made you feel just a little bit more alive. He pushes the blanket the rest of the way off your head, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl. Hi baby.”

He cups your face in his hand, running his thumb along your sweaty cheek, not caring if you think you look awful, you’re always gorgeous to him. Even like this. Especially like this. Raw and real. He wants you to feel safe with him when you’re in this low place. He wants to sink down to your level and pull you back up with his hand in yours. Eddie would do anything for you. He knows that scares you, he knows you want to believe him but it’s hard to fight the feeling that he’s going to abandon you. But he will do whatever it takes to prove you wrong. To prove that he isn’t like everyone else. To prove that he will stay.

“Hi.” Your voice comes out a scratchy and whiney and it makes you even more embarrassed than you already are. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart. I’m here for you, always. I brought your favorite snacks, bubbles, and your favorite teddy bear, me. Come here, let me hold you.”

He pushes the blanket back further and you shiver when the cool air of your room hits your body. He holds his arms out to you and your whole body tingles. He’s here for you. He wants to be here for you, and even though that terrifies you, the soft look on his face makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe. You push yourself up and he grabs you by the forearms pulling you into his lap and cradling you like a small child.

As soon as his arms are around you the floodgates open, sobs leaving your entire body shaking while your tears soak Eddie’s t-shirt. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just holds you while you cry, running his hands through your tangled hair, caressing your skin under your oversized shirt, kissing on your tear stained cheeks. After a while your sobs turn to small cries before they finally stop.

“It’s okay baby girl, you’re okay. I’m here for you, okay? Let me run us a nice bath, afterwards you can eat something, only if you want, if not that’s okay, I just want you to drink some water for me okay?”

“Okay Eddie… thank you, I-“

“Shh, you don’t have to thank me and you don't need to apologize, I’m your boyfriend and I love you, let me be here for you.” He smiles sweetly at you, rubbing the remaining tears from your cheeks and gathering you in his arms.

Eddie spends the night making good on his promises. He pampers you in the bath, washing you and brushing your hair, even putting lotion on your skin afterwards. He puts your comfort movie on tv in the living room so you can lay on the couch while he makes your safe meal. He doesn’t push you to talk, he knows you will when you’re ready. He holds you and tells you he loves you while he makes commentary on your favorite movie. When you finally start to feel sleep creeping up on you he ushers you back to your bed, the sheets now changed because he insisted it wasn’t a big deal. He holds you tight, and kisses you over and over again. He even gets you to giggle and pulls a genuine smile out of you a few times.

As you lay there in the love of your life’s arms you feel less hopeless. You feel less alone. You feel your body start to warm inside from the tips of your toes all the way to your nose as he places a gentle kiss on it. You feel safe. You regret not calling him sooner but the fact that he came without you even asking makes it even more special to you. Your mind can tell you he doesn’t care all it wants, because he’s always there to tell you he does.

“I love you angel, get some rest, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll always be here.”

“I love you Eddie. I know you told me not to thank you, but thank you, for being here for me. For being you.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, placing a gentle kiss there before you doze off into a peaceful sleep. In the arms of someone you know loves you.

[dimepdf]

★  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓. + 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. the jjk men and how perverted they would be to their partner.

─── ☆ notes. sorry for being flakey i've been recovering from having Agust D tickets stolen right out of my hands (i was too late putting in my card information) so i'm pretty much in constant mourning at the moment. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | masterbation | scent kink | oral sex | facials | marking | possessiveness | manipulation(?) | sub/dom | switching | brat taming | voyeurism | exhibitionism | mentions of multiple partners | sadism | biting | rough sex | cock warming | creampie | is you see a typo simply ignore it | title inpso by this song.

★     NANAMI KENTO !

‣ He would take it to the grave, though, with the type of things he would do when he did not have your comfort: tucking his shoes to the side and tossing aside his tie after a long day at work, all those rightful morals get tossed aside as well, seeing you had left to go back to your own home, leaving the almost overbearing traces of you against his mattress and pillows.

‣ tucking his face into his bed sheets while he slowly reaches down to undo the buckle of his belt, his hand creeping under the button of his pants in search to help ease the tension that grew as his erection engulfed in him what was left of you.

‣ grunting pathetically as he stuffed his face against his pillow, fucking his fist, the thought of your body, the things you two would do under the sheets.

‣ He will do anything he needs to do to not ruin his gentlemanly persona, his thoughts about you are more tamed and docile than those of the others, who would be more open with their thoughts.

‣ but I feel like Nanami wouldn’t really show his true nature no matter how many times you poke and prod at him, taunting him sexually, he’ll always make it seem as if you are the one that always suggests something first.

‣ I feel like he's also very into seeing you cry, especially if you like light bondage, whether he’s tying your hands together with his tie or holding your wrist behind your back with his belt.

‣ But on a rare occasion, like when he’s just mentally exhausted and really craving your touch and needs a little widedown, he can't help but  be a little touchy and needy for some sense of comfort.

‣ That comfort comes in a lot of ways: cuddling, making out, handjobs, and helping his very terrible oral fixation that never fails to have you fall victim to house mouth by spreading out on top of any and every surface in his home with your thighs trembling as your knee was bent over his shoulder.

★     GOJO SATORU !

‣ This man is very shameless and vocal about the things he wants and will do to you, so shameless that you have to apologize to anyone within a hearing radius.

‣ He literally does not care and does not have an ounce of decorum in his body.

‣ No matter how much he teases you for being "obsessed," you both know damn well how overly possessive he is over you and your body. There is never a time your two are in the same room and he doesn't have his hands all over you.

‣ The problem is that he isn't ashamed of talking about the things he wants to do with you to literally any poor victim willing to listen; he had the dedicated photo album full of saved selfies and pictures and the very lewd picture of you in lingerie tucked in his wallet, ready to be pulled out at any unfortunate time.

‣ The more you two get comfortable and closer, I feel like he will get more whiny and needy for your physical contact and attention, touching and kissing all over you in public.

‣  Kissing all over you, including the multiple items he would spoil you with, ranging from expensive lingerie in his favorite color to little trinkets that remind him of you. His favorite thing to do is buy you clothes and have you try them on in front of him.

‣  He just cannot keep his hands to himself, especially when you look so good in the sexy suit he bought from Victoria Secret that just complimented your boobs so much. It shouldn't be a surprise that it only takes him a glance before he’s tugging your panties to the side and fucking you against the wall.

★     TOJI FUSHIGURO !

‣ Another shameless man who does not give a fuck where he is or who’s around; when he wants you, he wants you.

‣ Definitely more subtle compared to Gojo (which isn't saying much).

‣ He’s just a major tits guy and loves when you post selfies with cleavage just to screenshot for his gallery and zoom in on your chest.

‣ If you happen to be in his company, rather than lounging around cuddling, his hands will at some point end up under your shirt, fondling your chest and pinching your nipples, using your boobs like a personal stress ball, and if he's not doing that, his head is tucked under your shirt, sucking hickies on them as if it were some normal occurrence.

‣ There’s no normal moment when you're dating Toji; this man knows he can act upon his lewd desires and will tuck your panties in his back pocket after sex as if they were some type of award for making you finish twice.

‣  He’s a man with artistic ability; that being said, he likes how you look covered in his cum; rather, it's all over your face, boobs, buttocks, and stomach. You better believe he’s pulling out and painting all over you.

‣ will get a little whiny whenever you try to clean yourself off, but it's fine because the moment you get out of the shower, he’s tapping you in for another round (rest in peace your ability to walk straight).

 ‣ He does not have a single shameless bone in his body; in fact, he loves it when you catch him doing something pervy; he only gets more excited.

‣ Rather its jerking off with your underwear and possibly grunting out your name knowing you're a step away, the moment that door swings open, he’s holding eye contact and fucking his fist.

‣ As much as people assume Toji to be some hard dom I feel like he does have a bit of a bratty side, and it does not help that he can get super petty, especially if he doesn't get what he wants. Oh, lord, that man will teasingly taunt like there's no tomorrow.

‣ And the worst part is that he does it as if he isn't the one practically whining for you to touch him.

‣ Don't even bother trying to get payback, whether it's trying to get him winded up with a cute lewd text or sending a sext picture of yourself, he will hit back ten times as hard and even make you drag it out until he’s the one with the upper hand.  

★     GETO SUGURU !

‣ okay… So I know what I said about Gojo being the most perverted, but I think that Geto might sometimes give him a run for his money.

‣ He's got the shameless thing all checked, in fact, he's so shameless that he makes you feel embarrassed and flustered, as if you're the one at fault.

‣ He is the same with Toji, he doesn't care who’s near doesn't matter he has his hands all over you, taunting and teasing you right in front of his friends he does not give a single care.

‣ He loves getting you all flustered in public, no matter who’s listening, he will straight out ask you to touch him whenever he feels like it.

‣ He loves the thought of you coming undone with an audience watching how much he can please you, a possessive sense of pride waving over him as he fucks you in front of everyone, telling them exactly who you belong to as you moan out his name. As long as you keep your eyes on him, there won't be a problem.

‣ frames lewd pictures of you, I’m not even kidding.

‣ I feel like he would have one of those huge portraits of you modeled in fancy lingerie hung like art in his living room, or small portraits of you in his bedroom.

‣ When you first noticed them, he just sort of smirked as you tried to tell him off.

★     SUKUNA RYOMEN !

‣ Oh brother, this dude gets grimy with it. 

‣ He’s got a major god complex, so it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that he doesn't see that what he’s doing is perverted, downright bad, to the point where he calls you a pervert for still liking him knowing the type of shit he’s into.

‣ Is a panty sniffing, dick stepping, fucking in public or even while his friends watch, watching you shower, jacking off while laying next to you, type of freak.

‣ Let's step back and backtrack on that friend thing. To everyone's surprise, Sukuna loves sharing, so much so that he’s into watching you get passed around by his friends.

‣ Practically invented voyeurism, loves the look on your face while you're getting railed, but only while you hold eye contact with him and moan his name while you're with some other dude.

‣ Sure he’s possessive, but in cocky way. 

‣ He knows he’s better than any other man you’ll ever be with, he’s the best thing that has ever graced your silly little pitbull life, so no matter how many times you complain about some sad pitful fuck, he knows it’ll never beat the multiple times he’d leave you trembling from just his mouth.

‣ He’s a huge tease with his tongue and long fingers, you’d have to be in tears and whimpering out his name before he'd consider pulling his dick out and fucking you.

‣ Is very huge on crying, whether it's from overstimulation or you just being overwhelmed from being angry at him. Just know the little devils on both sides of his shoulders are practically barking at him to bend you over and fuck you when the tears start spilling. 

‣ He’s a mean fucking, hair tugging, biting, leaving bruises, slapping, degrading—you could name anything that inflicts some sort of pain, and Sukuna has already tried it.

‣ But on the very rare occasion when he allows you too to take just a bit of charge, his desperate side does get a chance to shine out more, begging for you to let him cum in you, begging for you to give him orders.

‣ Sex will always end with you feeling like some type of jelly-filled doughnut (I'm so sorry), and he refuses to cum anywhere else but inside of you, let alone let you move from his grasp when he’s done. Best believe you’re keeping his cock warm for the rest of the night.

🔖 @souljagrldotcom / @m0mmym1lk3r-png / @toji-dabi-wife / @dilfs-lover / @venussakura / @emery-333 / @unheolybakugo / @dunixxd / @taeecups / @songbirdgardensworld / @celi-xxmoon / @s-witch-bitch / @chloee0x0 / @kawatabae / @haitaniwhor3 / @pluzo / @hey-gurls69 / @momoewn / @sheluvzeren / @kogoshidied / @sacvh / @disaster-rose / @hoohoohope / @pidwidge / @jadeisthirsting / @cjm-cookiethief / @zuuki / @tojishugetiddies / @rumi-rants / @justanotherkpopstanlol / @awkwardaardvarkforever / @lexiinanime / @melty-kisses / @kageyama-i-want-tobiors / @kiyomeichann / @wenumsmol / @unholybabyface / @namidaass / @princesstiti14 / @watyousayin / @laylasbunbunny / @crissteetee / @ziggy-09 / @angel-luv-04 / @anotherlovelyruin / @p-rizz-ha / @lone-poltergeist / @mimixrx2 / @t4naiis

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[taasgirl]

blue light - lando norris

summary: y/n is a professional footballer for arsenal, and takes a quick pitstop to the australian gp! her and lando end up taking a liking to each other, and reunite on a night out.

warnings: mentions of acl injury, nothing too bad

word count: 4.2k - sorry if there's any typos lol

I would be lying if I said that I knew how this worked. I also would be lying if I said that I found this enjoyable. I’ve spent too long concentrating on my career, that I never really cared to watch others; especially not Formula 1. But here I am.

The Australian Grand Prix, my ‘home tournament’ some would say. Growing up in Sydney, no one cared for motorsports - it was more about football, all variations of it.

I was sitting with the girls in one of the many stands. We had been followed around for majority of the day, there were a lot of people asking for photos. But honestly, I didn’t mind, in fact I really loved when I was recognised.

Steph attempted to explain how the races worked to me and the other girls, but we couldn’t get it.

The flag was waved and the race begun. There was a lot of commotion, everyone was buzzing to be watching a Grand Prix. “So what time will this finish?” I asked Steph, “Just watch it Y/N.” The other girls laughed at her focus on the track - the cars weren’t even there anymore.

After a few laps I started to get hungry. “I’m gonna grab food. Any of youse want any?” The girls shook their heads; they were as focused as Steph.

I walked through ‘The Paddock’. The passes we had allowed us to be there and I could tell that they were expensive. There were drivers left right and centre.

I made my way to a hot chips stand and ordered four portions. “A bit hungry yeah?” I turned around and was met with the face of a boy. Well maybe a man. He was fully decked out in the Mclaren gear. Either a driver or a huge fan.

“Nah for my friends.” He laughed and after ordering his food stood by me as we waited.

“I’m Oscar.” He lent his hand out, and I shook it in response, “Y/N.” He smiled at me “I know.”

“So what’s a footballer doing at the races huh?” He recognised me. “Honestly, I have no idea. My friends dragged me along.” He laughed. “Maybe my team can help you out.” He smirked at me. “And what team would that be?”

“Mclaren.”

“So some guy offers his exclusive lounge to you, and you believe him?” Katie was looking me up and down, very obviously unimpressed. “I think he’s a driver. Steffie is there someone from Mclaren called Oscar?” She looked at me immediately.

“You met Oscar Piastri?” I nodded. “And he invited you to the Mclaren lounge?” I nodded and then stopped, “Well all of us.”

We were all sat very lavishly at a bar. Oscar had met us outside the Mclaren suite and brought us inside.

“So if you’re a driver, why aren’t you out there?” I pointed to the TV that was following the cars. “I had a crash a few weeks ago, and I’m still not cleared to race yet.” I winced. The idea of crashing at the speeds that the men were going irked me. “It wasn’t anything bad. Just a concussion.”

“So who’s out there now?” Oscar smiled at me. “Lando. Lando Norris.” His smile was cheeky. “He’s gonna be buzzing when he sees you after the race.” I looked at him nonchalantly. “Honestly, he’s a huge Arsenal fan. You’re his favourite player too.” A smile creeped across my face. I was intrigued by this ‘Lando Norris’ person.

“Do you have a photo of him? I wanna know what he looks like.” Oscar scoffed. “Take a look around. His face is everywhere.”

Oscar wasn’t lying. There were posters everywhere of Lando Norris. Him celebrating, him posing, him and Oscar. He must be a big shot.

“Good looking guy right?” I laughed almost uncomfortably.

But I did find him attractive. In fact, as soon as Oscar had left us for his team, I was already searching up Lando on instagram.

By the time the races had finished, it was a bit past four. After getting the rundown from some of the Mclaren workers, I had kinda figured out what was happening.

Carlos Sainz won the race. Lando came third, and everyone was stoked. “But isn’t third just kinda bad?” Steph smacked Caitlin. “It’s different in racing now shut up.” The rest of us snickered. We had a perfect view of the podium, and all the guys on it.

“He’s cute.” Katie nudged me, earning an eye roll. “You should talk to him. I know you like your English.” Katie was one of my closest friends, she took me under her wing when I signed for arsenal, and for that I will always be indebted to her.

Once the boys had finished celebrating their win, we were brought back to the Mclaren suite.

“Stay here, I’ll bring Lando over.” Oscar held my shoulder before he went looking for the driver. As we were waiting, I was lightly tapped. Turning around, I can face to face with a journalist.

“Hi Y/N how are you?” She was beaming. “Would you mind doing a quick interview with us, it’ll only take a minute?” I smiled at her and agreed.

We were pulled into a less busy part of the room, and she handed over to me a microphone. The camera was directed at me, so I quickly touched up my hair.

“How are you enjoying the races, big fan?” I rubbed the back of my neck and responded.

“Yeah it’s been great. I don’t know too much about the whole motorsports scene but a few people from Mclaren have been helpful in explaining.”

The reporter flipped her paper.

“Speaking of Mclaren, do you have an affiliation with the team? You’ve been in the suite all day!”

“Honestly, I bumped into Oscar while getting chips and he invited us over.” She smiled, signalling for me to go on. “Everyone’s been super welcoming, especially to the dumb questions I’ve been asking.” The camera crew around us laughed.

Finishing up the interview, I made my way over to the girls. “Okay miss popular.” The girls laughed at Katie’s remark.

“Oh that Lando guy is looking for you by the way.” I looked straight at Steph. “Don’t look at me like that. He came around to us and left straight away when he realised you weren’t here.” I took a seat next to Caitlin.

“Y/N, come!” Oscar shouted from across the room. I could see his hand waving over to me, and so I got up.

“This is Lando.” Lando had an arm thrown around Oscar, very obviously tired. “Hey.” We reached our hands out and shook.

“Listen, I’m a huge fan of yours.” I smiled at him thankfully.

“Yeah he’s got about fifty jersey with your name on the back.” Oscar chimed, but was immediately shut down by a light kick to his shin, Lando’s doing. “Okay I’m not that weird.” We laughed together, until the silence turned awkward.

“I never picked you for a F1 enjoyer, who’d you support.” Oscar laughed, earning a concerned look on Lando’s face.

“Would it kill you if I said that I don’t watch it. Like at all?”

He clutched his heart sarcastically.

“I’m sorry! I’ve just never really been into it.” Oscar shook his head. “Ok ok, if it’s you two racing, then I’ll consider watching. It’s the least I can do for a fan.” Lando clutched his chest again.

“Gosh Y/N, you really know what to say to get a man’s heart pumping.” We laughed it off again.

“You should probably get back to your team. Celebrate the win?” It was less a statement than a question. “I’m just gonna shut up before I end up giving you a heart attack.”

He took his hand in mine, and pulled me in for a hug. “There’ll be a party later. You’re all invited to join if you’d like.” I nodded. “I’ll let them know.”

“So what’s the dress code?” Steph walked into my room, taking a look at the clothes still in their suitcase. “Not formal I don’t think. Just like a normal party.” She began picking up my clothes and placing them on my bed.

“You should wear a dress.” She threw me one of my green dresses. “This one. I bet he’ll wanna take it off later tonight.” I laughed. “Yeah not happening Stephie.”

Oscar had given me his number and sent the details for tonight. It was gonna be a party with almost all the drivers, and a shit ton of people.

The girls were already done getting ready, it seemed that I was the only one rocking up in a dress. They were all in skinny jeans. God I really needed to help with their wardrobe situation.

“Hurry up Y/N we’re gonna leave without you.” Katie called from the hallway.

“Holy shit.” We were all stood in front of an elusive door. We could see the lights sparkling from the windows of the home, music blasting. “Now who the fuck gave up their house for a rave?” I questioned, earning an embarrassingly loud laugh from Steph.

Once we had walked inside, it was quite obvious that we weren’t gonna be finding Lando or Oscar anytime soon.

The house was packed. Bodies were everywhere, dancing, kissing, just straight up passed out.

We made our rounds of the party, figuring out our bearings before coming to the kitchen.

“Y/N?” I turned around, my name was almost whispered, but I could still hear it.

I had come face to face with my ex. “Oh my God, hi Jay.” He hugged me. A hug that I had known too well.

“What’re you doing here? I didn’t even know you were back home.” He was holding a red cup. Classic. It was probably filled with beer considering how he smelt. “Just a quick trip back home. We were invited to the race.” He nodded, taking a swig.

Jayden and I hadn’t exactly ended on the best terms. He was my first serious boyfriend and we lasted two years. Until I had to move to London. He was angry at me for choosing work over love. But I had to. I loved football more than I loved him.

“Do you need somewhere to stay? I’ve got rooms in my hotel.” I immediately shut him down. “You’re too kind, but nah, I’m staying at Steph’s house.” As soon as I mentioned the name I could tell he cringed. He never liked Steph, he said she was too protective over me.

“Y/N!” I spun around and saw Oscar. “Having fun?”

“Watch it mate.” Jayden stepped up to Oscar. “Calm your tits. Just saying hello to a friend.” Jayden scoffed at his response. “Yeah well, leave my girlfriend alone.” He spat.

“The fuck Jayden?” I made eye contact with Oscar, "Ex. From a long time ago." I emphasised the 'long'. Oscar nodded, and signalled for me to follow him.

We walked further into the house, and had stopped at what I assumed to be the living room.

Lando, arms splayed over the head rests of the couch he was sitting on, looked me up and down. “Look who decided to show up!” He stood up and gave me a hug. “You look great.”

His cologne was strong, a vanilla scent.

"This is insane." I referred to the house and the people around us. "Yeah in all honesty, I have no idea whose house this is." We both laughed, still standing close to each other.

For some reason, I felt as if there was no one else here. Like it was just him and I. "You know I should probably get your number. Just in case you wanna come to more races." While he reached for his phone, I responded. "Hmm are you sure this isn't actually your attempt at scoring free arsenal tickets?" He passed me his phone, unlocked. "Me? Never." I smiled and created a contact in his phone.

"Message me, Lando Norris."

We had finally landed in London, after way too many hours cramped in a plane, I could finally stretch my legs. "Welcome to London." Katie looked out of the window, rain pouring from the sky. "Is it too late to go back?" I questioned.

Lando still hadn't messaged me, and in all honesty, I gave up on him ever reaching out.

After our conversation at the party, I was drawn back to the girls and didn't see him at all afterwards.

"Anyone for Nandos?"

"I'm gonna find you a hot English guy." Steph was sat at my vanity, fixing up her minimal makeup while I was sat on the floor, deciding what shoes would match my outfit best.

We were going out for a team dinner and I was knackered from training this week. Friday night out just didn't seem that appealing to me. "I'll pass." I settled on an old pair of sneakers. "Not even Lando Norris?" I didn't reply. The girls hadn't stopped going on about Lando since Australia, and were confused when he hadn't messaged me after the party.

"Oh come on. You're telling me that if you saw him you wouldn't immediately jump in his pants?"

"Firstly, ew don't talk about him like that, and secondly, I doubt he'd even remember me. We talked for what? Five minutes at most." She walked over to me and picked me up off the floor. "Come on, we'll be late."

Once we arrived at the restaurant, I took a seat next to Leah and checked the menu. I ordered a well-done steak with a side of salad, along with a glass of red wine.

"How you feeling for the weekend?" I asked Leah. It was her first game starting since her ACL injury, and I could tell that she was beyond nervous. "I'm scared. Like I want to be out there so badly, but I'm so afraid I'll do it again." I smiled at her sympathetically.

"If there's anyone who can bounce back, it's you." I paused, "You know, what I find weird?" She shrugged. "I haven't told you this, but before I came to Arsenal, I had posters of you in my room." She looked shocked. "Are you actually serious?"

I nodded in response. "You are seriously my favourite footballer. I remember when I got the call from my agent, all I could think about was the fact that you'd be my teammate. Not that I was playing in the WSL, or even Arsenal. It was you." She smiled, I could see her eyes glisten a little.

"Every single day you inspire me, and I promise, when you walk onto the pitch on Sunday, you're going to inspire a whole load of other people too." She hugged me.

"You're too sweet Y/N. Thank you." When we detached, I was met with a stunned Steph. "What?" I asked.

"Turn around." I looked behind and saw Lando sat at the bar. "Oh my fucking god." I faced back at Steph.

"Go up to him." I shook my head aggressively. "Absolutely not."

"If you don't, I'm gonna call out to him." I looked her dead in the eyes. "You wouldn't dare." She smiled, "I so would."

No one except Leah ad caught up on what Steph and I were talking about, until I heard my name shouted out from the other end of the table.

"Y/N look!" Katie pointed towards Lando, who had turned around at the crazed woman screaming.

We made eye contact and he smiled at me, getting up from his seat. I quickly got up too, and met him halfway.

"What are the chances?" He hugged me as I responded. "Wow this is really weird."

"How you been?" He asked, his hand on mine. "Ah yeah I'm good, just out with the girls for dinner." I turned around to draw his attention to them, only to be met with the eyes of every single person at that table. "Oh god don't mind them." He chuckled.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Monaco?" He raised his eyebrow at me. "How'd you know I live in Monaco?" My cheeks turned red. "Have you been googling me?" He questioned, smiling down at me.

"I'm so embarrassed oh my god." I took a breath. "Hey, you never messaged me." I looked at him sternly, while he looked at me confused. "You are aware that you gave me the wrong number right?" He took out his phone and opened up his texts.

I cringed, and tapped on the number. "Oh my god, I did give you the wrong number, see I put 6 instead of 7." I pointed at the digits. "Why didn't you just get my number off of Oscar then?"

He put his phone back into his pocket. "Well as much as I didn't want to believe it, I thought you purposely gave me the wrong number. You know, to let me know you weren't interested." My jaw dropped. "You know, if my memory serves me right, I'm pretty sure I told you to message me."

"Hey, I didn't want to cross any boundaries, plus Oscar pointed out your ex to me, and I definitely was not gonna get on his bad side." I cringed at the thought of Jayden. "He's so gross." Lando agreed.

"I'm sorry about everyone staring too." I referred to my teammates, still looking over at Lando and I. "They're a little bit too interested in my love life." Chuckling, he sent a wave over to them. "Love life huh?" He smirked.

"Come sit with us." Katie (of course) yelled out at him. "Don't listen to her, I should probably let you get back to whatever you were doing."

He scratched the back of his head. "I wasn't doing much, I'd be happy to sit down with you lot." I looked back at the girls, Steph was beaming. "Maybe not, she looks a little creepy right now." He laughed. "Well if you really don't want me around your friends, why don't we just go for a walk then?"

"Why not?" He ushered for me to start walking and soon enough, we were out on the London streets.

"I heard that you have a game coming up." I was looking down as he looked to me. "Uh yeah, Sunday." He was about to speak when I cut him off. "You should come. I'd be happy to get you some tickets."

"Yeah actually that'd be great. I might just have to bring my Y/N jersey." He nudged my shoulder with his as we continued walking.

"You never know, maybe I'll even sign it."

"So what were you doing in a restaurant by yourself? Waiting for a date maybe?" I questioned, making his cheeks turn red. "I wish. I'm here for a few days before I have to fly to Japan. Just wanted a nice meal."

"Well come on, let's go find somewhere to eat." I grabbed his hand and pulled him along. "Don't you need to get back?" I shook my head "They know I'm in safe hands."

"Nah you're having a laugh, are you serious?" Lando and I had found a hole-in-the-wall pizza shop and were sat opposite each other. "No I'm serious, I got my permit like a year ago, but I refuse to drive."

"I don't know Y/N, that might be a dealbreaker. I mean, my whole life is driving." He was laughing. "Yeah well then you can just drive me everywhere." His smile was warm, comforting. "I'd like that."

Once we had finished up eating we started to walk back. Steph had texted me to say that she and the girls had left. "How are you getting home?" He asked me. "Probably an Uber." He tutted and shook his head. "Let me drive you."

"Thank you Lando. I really enjoyed this." I was standing outside his car as he dropped me off to my house. Through the rolled down window, I couldn't stop looking at him. "It was my pleasure. I want to see you again, soon." I started to blush.

"Wait, let me give you my actual number."

He immediately responded, "No need. I just need to change the 6 to a 7." I smiled, he remembered.

"I'm expecting some tickets by the way. And don't you dare put me up in the nosebleeds." We laughed together. "I'll see you later Lando."

"Get off your phone Y/N." I quickly dropped my phone into my bag, and looked up at Katie.

"There are no excuses today. We're giving it our all. These points are ours." The changeroom erupted. Today we had Chelsea, and it would absolutely decisive for us in the title race.

I was unlike most of the girl on the team, I preferred to sit and relax before games rather than getting energised early. "Are you messaging who I think you're messaging?" Steph slid in next to me.

"Shut up Steph." She grabbed my shoulders and lightly shook me, "And to think that you didn't want to go to the race." I shooed her away before picking my phone up to play some music.

I shuffled my playlist, and let saturn by sza start playing.

"You alright?" Leah tapped on my shoulder, to which I pulled one of my airpods out. "Yeah, just trying to concentrate you know?"

It was a pain in my knee. It hurt like a bitch. I fell to the ground immediately and clutched my leg. "Fuck fuck fuck." Steph ran straight to me, followed closely by a few of the other girls.

"Shit." Steph held my right knee. No one wanted to say what we thought it was. The dreaded ACL.

"I'm okay, it's fine." I tried to calm the girls down. I had stuck my leg foolishly into a tackle and twisted it slightly.

The physio who had come to aid me, placed a hand on my knee. "Where is it Y/N?" I pointed to the top of my knee. "Okay, you'll be right. Do you want to come off."

"No." He nodded and helped me stand up. "How's it feeling." I put pressure on it. "It's good." We walked off the field and I signalled to Jonas that I was fine.

After a quick treatment of cream and tape, I was ready to join my team again. The fourth official waited until the referee allowed me to come on, and I sprinted back into place.

"You got it Y/N." Leah shouted to me.

"And you're alright yeah?" Katie came around to me after the match ended. We finished strong with a 2-1 win, the goals from Alessia.

"Honestly, I feel fine. The physio said it was probably just a cork." She nodded in understanding. "Rest up, we need you." We walked towards the bench, smiles everywhere.

I looked out beyond the bench and saw Lando. He was standing up, cheering us on, a smiled crept across my face.

Jonas pulled us in for a group talk and, in all honesty, I couldn't focus on anything he was saying. My attention was completely on the fact that I could talk to Lando afterwards. I wasn't sure on how exactly I could go up to him.

"I'm so fucking proud of you girls." Once we were done congratulating each other, I was able to make my way to the seats above the bench.

I took a plethora of photos and signed many jerseys, still waiting for Lando to appear amongst the fans. Once I had finished with the section, I looked up in search of him.

"Y/N!" My name was called out from behind me. I turned around, and after seeing who it was, I walked over.

I threw my hands over Lando's shoulders, as he held my waist in for a hug. "You scared the shit out of me." He looked at me sternly, but it looked my friendly. "I scared the shit out of myself." He laughed. "Hey, look." He stepped slightly away from me and lifted up his hoodie.

Underneath it was our pink Stella McCartney kit. He pulled his hoodie off completely and showed me the back. My last name stood above the number 10.

"It's nice right?" He questioned. "Mhm." My only response. "Only mhm? I spent 200 quid on this!" I laughed at him. "I think I'll do you one better." I pulled the shirt I was wearing off and handed it over to him. "Matchworn, gotta be worth something." I smiled.

"Oh wow, are you serious?" He asked, holding the shirt in his hands. "You don't wanna keep it?" I shook my head. "Nah, I have plenty. Plus now you can start an official Y/N collection."

"Guess this means I'll have to give you my helmet after a race huh?"

"You're already inviting me to a race?" I asked, batting my eyes.

"Well the British GP isn't for a few more months so-" I cut him off before he could finish. "What about Japan?" He looked down at me confused. "What do you mean love?"

"What if I came to Japan? I'm sure they'd let me go down for a day or two." I couldn't help but replicate the smile that was on his face.

He didn't say anything, and instead leaned in.

His lips met mine as he held my face. I kissed him back passionately. Who would've thought that going to a silly race would end like this?

We pulled apart. "You better come to Japan."

lmk if you guys liked this!! i love lando and football sm, so why not mix the two??

say something is coming guys!! i'm in a bit of a slump :/ but my exams will be over soon thankfully

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Hello, could you write about GN Reader dating Chiori who acts chill and relaxed but is secretly a ball of anxiety, which Chiori learns when they snap at her over something seemingly small?

At first I read it as her snapping at them so glad I did a re-read before I started writing xd

Also quick warning I didn't proof read the post itself and it's almost 1AM for me so sorry for any typos lol

Chiori's S/O snapping at her

Cw: Anxiety mention

Reader here is: Gender neutral

To you, Chiori was always just flawlessly perfect. You couldn't help but compare yourself to her...

On the outside you had to keep up appearances, you didn't want her to break up with you because you weren't good enough...

She sometimes disregarded her designs entirely without a second glance if it didn't match her vision... So who's to say she won't get rid of you just as carelessly?

What if you disappoint her beyond measure? There are so many things that can go wrong that you can't wrap your head around it.

Lately however you've been very stressed. Your work life was slowly getting messier with each day and it slowly started pressing on you too hard.

And you couldn't count much on Chiori comforting you. She wasn't going to understand you and that's the narrative you stick with.

Despite your inner battle you helped her out with some cleaning around the boutique. You weren't sure if you were doing it how she expected you to...

And all that tension made you snap when she asked you to move the mannequins again. You apologized for messing it up over and over again. This was such a simple task and yet you found a way to do it wrong!

Hearing your self deprecating comments, she immediately told you to quiet down with an assertive tone... Only to awkwardly try to comfort you.

She was honest, told you that she was at fault for not specifying where exactly she wanted you to place them.

Since that moment she paid more attention to your emotional state than usual and started picking up a few quirks she's dismissed earlier.

Quite frankly, she was pissed at herself for not noticing that sooner. So... She tried to pay more attention to how she should comfort you.

It was awkward and weird but at the same time... Sweet. You always knew Chiori was caring but ever since she's noticed just how stressed you truly are she's always ready to defend you.

Not that she wasn't doing so before... It's just that now she can always tell when you need her. She didn't judge you one bit, more than that she just enjoyed making sure you feel safe.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Defending His Lady

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: Both Feyd and your son take issue with the people of Giedi Prime not accepting you as their Lady. Part of the His series

Notes/Warnings: Based on a request. It's a little bit different. Typos, probably.

Words: 1250

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Years ago, when you imagined your future, it wasn’t this. It wasn’t on this planet. It wasn’t with the husband and child you have. It wasn’t with the title you obtained from your marriage. You imagined light glowing through an open home, frilly gowns, a stuffy Lord, and a daughter who would be treated like a princess. It wasn’t necessarily what you wanted for your future, but it was what was likeliest to be. You’d be a foreign Lady on a new planet, yet respected just as much as their home-grown Lord.

You learned rather quickly that that’s not always how it works. And while you wouldn’t trade the life you have—not your husband, not your son—for anything the universe could offer, you can’t deny the difficulties that come with being the wife and mother of the Harkonnen line of Giedi Prime. 

The people wanted Feyd to marry one of their own, certainly not the concubine their na-Baron once took. They wanted purity. To them, you are tainted blood, and despite your status on this planet, many cannot resist treating you like a parasite. In the five years that have passed, you’ve taken the poor treatment and whispered words with as much grace as you can, knowing Feyd is always there to end the lives of those who step out of bounds, but it’s harder to ignore now that Fionn is no longer a baby.

Your son is growing. His ears catch more than you’d like. He notices how his father reacts to the harsh words directed at you and how he never sees the people who speak them ever again. He’s gathering the pieces that his mother is often disrespected, and that is the last thing you want.

—

“He sees it,” you tell your husband as you slip into your nightgown.

“He doesn’t see it,” Feyd says, pulling back the top layer of covers on the bed and settling under the sheets. When he reaches out his hand, you snuggle into his embrace. His arms are snug around you. His lips press a kiss to your hairline. “You worry too much.”

You hold in your huff of frustration. “I do not. He asked me as I put him to bed if bad people are hurting me and if that’s why Daddy keeps making them disappear.” Feyd pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed. You nod. “He sees it.”

Feyd exhales heavily through his nose. As a father, he’s been diligent, so very careful with how he leads his son; a surprisingly delicate guidance—something he didn’t have growing up. What started from Feyd’s fear of your son being too much like him died as the boy showed only love, but Feyd has continued his intricate training. He has trained so that even at the age of four, Fionn is vigilant, particular with his words, and practical in his choices. He trains so that outside factors are not as influential. He trains so the boy can think for himself. And it shouldn’t be a shock that he notices what happens in his own home. 

“It’s time he understands then,” Feyd says.

Your eyes go wide and you let out a light gasp. “Feyd, he’s four.”

“There’s no point in hiding what happens to them if he’s already curious. He’s as stubborn as you are,” he tells you. “And he’s old enough.”

—

“Mommy, where are we going?” Fionn asks, his little hand tugging on yours to get your attention. 

You take a deep breath, sucking in the dank air that leads to prisoner cells. You’re not sure how this is going to go, but you agreed and you need to let it play out. “Daddy wants to show you something.”

Fionn’s head turns to Feyd. “Is it a bad man, Daddy?”

Feyd pauses halfway down the hall and crouches in front of his son. You release Fionn’s hand so he can fully face his father. 

“Yes,” he says. “It’s a bad man.”

“He hurt Mommy?”

“Some of our guards heard him talking about your mother. He said rude things, called her names. He wished for harm to come to her.”

Fionn makes a soft noise of surprise. Name-calling—he considers that one of the worst of crimes, knowing what it got him when he insulted the little Lady of House Kenric. 

“But why?” he asks. 

“It doesn’t matter why,” Feyd says. “What matters is that we protect the ones we love, yes?”

“Yes,” Fionn agrees with a sharp nod.

Feyd looks up at you, silently commanding that you stay here. The last time you entered a cell to face the one who insulted you, more abuse was hurled at you until it tapped into a well of internal shame. It took you three days to shake that off, all the while your husband begging for you to return to your natural state of uncaring. 

You’ve always cared though, to some degree. It doesn’t matter that they like you so much as it matters that you’re not a stain on Feyd’s reputation. After all, he’s the Baron now, and one day, his son will be. If the people of Giedi Prime cannot forget where you come from, you worry they will never forgive Feyd, and worse, that they will never accept Fionn as their ruler. 

Feyd takes your boy’s hand once again and leads him the rest of the way. They stop at the correct cell and when a guard turns a key, they head inside. 

Inching your way down the hall, you halt just outside of it. Your finger goes to your lips to ensure the guard does not give you away, and with your back to the stone wall, you hear Fionn.

“He did it?”

The man is silent, likely knocked unconscious from Feyd’s earlier visit. You suppose he’ll be awake soon enough. 

“Yes,” Feyd tells him, his voice dropping an octave, “He did.”

“Did he apologize? He should apologize to Mommy.”

Feyd releases a sigh. His son is much more diplomatic than himself. But your husband can’t fairly be bothered. That’s the point of his parenting: to raise a better Baron than both he and his uncle have ever been. 

“Son, we do not let men like this apologize. We do not let them near your mother.”

��Oh.”

“So what do you think we do with them?”

Fionn hums, and it’s so much like his father that it’s as if he has stood on the sidelines of every death your husband has executed. The way Feyd hums as he plays with his victims. A fake hum of consideration, of contemplation. What should I do with them? How should they leave this world? Questions he pretends to ask as if he hasn’t planned their deaths out from the moment he was informed of the crime. And that’s the hum your son gives. He hums like a natural monster in the making. You wouldn’t be surprised if the boy is tapping his finger against his chin as he thinks. 

You feel an ounce of pride. There’s more to him than a kind heart, lovely as that heart is. He will be a fearsome Baron, but one that will show mercy when mercy is fit. However, here, now, mercy is not fit, and his father has made that clear.

“Would you like the first stab?” Feyd asks. “Top of thigh.”

The shing of metal scraping against Feyd’s sheath fills the space. A small blade. Good for Fionn’s hand.

“Which thigh, Daddy?”

Feyd chuckles. “You choose.”