#a very strong very loving man with so much to give to the world

[aurorawritestoescape]

WALLET PHOTO || DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel and you are in a secret relationship but one day Joel notices that you’re not very careful at keeping the secret.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, age gap (how big is up to you), soft!Joel, taking nudes, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv (wrap it up), squirting, creampie. Reader wears a skirt. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 4,3k

A/n: written for @justagalwhowrites ‘s Joel Miller Birthday celebration! I chose dbf Joel and secret relationship. Thank you for a wonderful challenge, Kit 💕and Happy Birthday to tloml, Joel Miller!❤️ Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 I’ve never written dbf and I hope y’all like it! Love you! Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more soft Joel - Good Girl || Sweet Cherry

After an afternoon movie date with Joel you’re sitting on your bed in your room with a shoe box on your lap. Joel’s leaning against the door frame, watching you with a soft smile. Your noisy roommate is not in so you two are enjoying each other’s company in the quiet apartment.

Joel knows about your big collection of movie tickets and doesn’t ask any questions when you take today's trophy out of your wallet with a content smile and place it in the box. You’re telling him how much you hate the introduction of electronic tickets when Joel interrupts you.

"Hey! Show me that.”

With his expression serious all of a sudden he steps up towards you, his arm stretched and waiting.

“What?"

"Your wallet. Give me.”

“Ehm... no.”

You're hurriedly trying to shove it back into your tiny handbag but Joel’s too fast. He bends down, yanks the wallet out of your fingers and opens it. You sigh deeply when he looks down at you with a heavy scowl that speaks volumes.

You don’t say anything and after a few moments of heavy silence he breaks it.

“Baby”.

You probably should feel concerned but the thunder in his voice sends shivers of excitement down your spine, your heartbeat increases and you gush into your panties.

"What?"

"Why do you have my photo in your wallet?"

You pout your lips and reply with defiance,

"To look at you."

He puts his hands on his hips, his usual stance when you behave like a brat, your wallet still clenched between his thick fingers, and his usually warm but now fiery eyes under the furrowed brows are boring into you.

“What if your dad sees it?”

"He won't."

"How can you be so sure? I’ve noticed it. He might as well."

"Well..,” you start and pause, looking everywhere but his piercing eyes.

"Well what?"

“I don't know, Joel! Stop grilling me!” you exclaim, finally breaking under pressure. Then you look up at the man with your best puppy eyes and explain, “I love this photo. I love looking at it when I miss you.”

Joel sighs and his arms fall in defeat. His softness washes away the displeasure off his handsome face as soon as he notices that you’re upset.

His voice is warm and comforting again when he argues,

"But you have a bunch of my photos on your phone.”

"Yeah, but… This is different. I love having it here. I open my wallet and BAM! You’re staring at me. So handsome and mine.” Your eyes downcast, you add, “My heart feels warm and shit when I see it.”

"Warm and shit. Jesus. You'll be the death of me, missy."

With a deep sigh he hands you the wallet back and when you are about to grab it, he clasps your wrist and gently pulls you off the bed and into his embrace. You press your nose to his warm chest, hidden behind the softest flannel, and take a deep breath of his scent. His big heart is beating steadily under your palms, his arms, muscular and strong, shield you from the outside world that is unfortunately not receptive to your relationship.

You feel a kiss planted on the top of your head and look up at Joel. Your eyes lock as you talk without speaking, confess the things that both of you have no guts to verbalize yet. Instead you connect by sharing the warmth of your bodies, letting your heartbeats harmonize with each other.

As always when you’re with Joel, the warmth quickly morphs into scorching fire and your body starts demanding him just as much as your heart. Your core ignites, sending flames of wet desire to your aching pussy and you lick your lower lip, inviting your secret lover to get a taste.

“My beautiful girl”, Joel whispers, as his pupils dilate, eyes slide over the curve of your mouth and he leans down. The kiss, gentle, slow and wet, soon overwhelms you, makes your whole body tremble with need and you cuddle into his arms as close as you can.

Joel seems impatient to have you too and when he slightly bucks his hips, you feel him stiff against your lower belly. You breathe out his name and take a step back, pulling him by the hand towards your bed. He sits down on the foot of it and you swiftly straddle his thighs.

“Damn, baby,” Joel growls as you plant a soft kiss on his cheek and your hips start rolling gently against his hard bulge. He throws your open wallet on the bed and you turn to look down at the photo.

Joel follows the direction of your eyes and says with a soft smile, “I remember that day.”

“Yeah, it was my birthday. You looked so hot in that blue shirt.”

“Really?” Joel beams at you like a cat sitting in the sun and his dark eyes are darting between yours while his hands are gripping your hips tighter.

“Yeah. We weren't together yet but I was already… I already liked you.”

“Oh,” Joel mumbles and then tilts his head, brows furrowed. “Didn’t ya have a boyfriend back then? I remember some guy being there with you.”

“Yeah, I did,” you smirk and then nuzzle his scruffy cheek, purring against it, “but the entire party I was wet because of my dad’s buddy.”

Joel growls and squeezes the softness of your hips as you sit straight and admit, locking eyes with him,

“ ‘s why I took that photo. Wanted to have something of you.”

Joel’s looking up at you as if you’re an angel fallen

from heaven. Not used to expressing his feelings, he pulls you closer, kisses your cheek and hugs you tightly.

“I… never thought I’d feel all this again. Never thought you’d be mine. ‘m lucky to have you.”

You hold your breath and freeze in his arms, scared to ruin this beautiful moment.

Joel pulls away from you and searches for your eyes.

"I want your photo too, sweetheart. Wanna feel warm and shit when I open my wallet," he quotes you with a wink and adds, "Your dad be damned."

You giggle, the sound ringing with excitement, and swiftly get off him.

“Let’s take it now!”

You hurry to your desk, open the first drawer and look for your Polaroid camera. Then you return to Joel, handing it to him.

“Where should I sit?”

You look about your bedroom, chewing on your lip, searching for the best place to pose at.

“Not the bed, baby. I should have at least the benefit of the doubt if someone sees it.”

You laugh and then take a seat in your chair at the desk, thighs pressed together, covered partially by your short skirt, hands clasped in your lap.

Joel gets up, and when you give him your most innocent smile, he pushes the button.

The picture slides out immediately and Joel pulls it out and starts shaking it, stepping up to you, waiting for it to develop.

“If I look bad, we’ll take another one, k?” you ask, your big eyes directed at Joel.

“You couldn’t look bad even if you tried, baby.”

Warmth fills your chest as he cups your cheek and you nuzzle his warm palm. Then you impatiently take the photo from his hand and look at it.

“It’ll do,” you comment with a happy grin.

You show it to Joel and he bends over and squints looking at it.

“Do you need your glasses?” You ask with a naughty smile and Joel throws you the look.

“I don’t,” he straightens up and takes the photo from you to inspect it closely.

“Huh. You look like such a good girl.”

You fake gasp, plant your hands on your knees and bat your lashes at him with exaggeration.

“Ain’t I a good girl, Joel?”

The man puts the photo on your desk and steps up so close that his jeans brush your naked knees. You squirm when he pinches your chin and tilts your head up to face him.

“We both know how bad this good girl can get.”

The way he says it, voice low and gruff, eyes blown out and full of fire, sends shivers down your spine and you feel a new surge of wetness spill into your already soaked panties.

“Yeah,” you agree and bite your lip when an idea lights up in your mind. “We can take one more photo. Of your bad girl.”

Joel’s chest expands, and he shifts his jaw while his hungry gaze is sliding down your body.

“You’ll let me?”

You nod, melting under his scorching look.

His expression is serious, almost dark, when he takes the camera off the desk. You try to contain your excitement, calm down the fire burning deep in your core, before you take a deep breath. Joel steps back and sits down on the bed, thighs spread, holding the camera in his big hands but not lifting it to his eyes.

“Show me what you wanna do, baby.”

“Ohh.” You raise your eyebrows playfully at the man. “You can be unhappy with my pose?”

“What if my bad girl gets too shy to come out?” He smiles and you bite your lower lip, giddy with the challenge presented to you.

After a few moments of contemplation you start by taking your top off. You give Joel a little show, sliding the clothing off your body slowly, gliding your hands over your exposed skin. Soon you’re left sitting in your lacy bra and a skirt and Joel seems to love it. He throws his thighs wider and adjusts his prominent bulge.

Wishing to show him your assets in the best way, you lean against the chair and arch your back, pushing your tits out. Your nipples are hard under the thin lace and Joel definitely sees them.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Joel praises you in a soft tone but then tilts his head to the side, a smirk twisting his lips. “Wish you showed me more.”

You narrow your eyes at the man.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s coming,” you say and seductively pull down your skirt. Joel’s eyes immediately dart to your lacy thong. Now you’re sitting only in your underwear in front of Joel, who’s still fully clothed. When you glide your palms over your body to entice the man, your arousal spikes and you desperately wish for it to be Joel’s big hands.

“Wanna take a pic now?” You know that Joel’s on the verge of getting up and ripping the last of the clothes off you but he surprises you with his reply, as he places the camera on the bed next to him.

“Not yet, sweetheart. You can do better.”

Your jaw drops at his audacity and you wriggle in the seat, trying to alleviate the ache between your legs, probably leaving a wet stain on the chair.

‘He wants to play? Let’s play,’ you think and purr,

“Careful what you wish for, Mr Miller.”

Joel’s nostrils flare and a low growl rises up from his chest when he hears what you called him.

Your mischievous smile indicates that you know exactly what you’re doing and you don’t plan on stopping. Joel is always gentle with you but sometimes it’s fun to wake the other side of him, a passionate man driven by desire, ready to grab, manhandle and fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.

So with a half sigh-half moan you hook your thumbs under the straps of your bra and slide them off your shoulders while Joel’s dark eyes are following your every move. His gaze glosses over when you pull your bra cups down and expose your breasts to his hungry eyes.

“Ohh, that’s my girl,” he croaks, moving closer to the edge of the bed, as if he’s ready to pounce on you any second.

“Still a good girl, Joel?” you purr, kneading the soft plush of your tits, and spreading your thighs a little wider.

Joel seems to be lost for words as you take the bra off and languidly move your hips back and forth, riding the chair, desperately wishing it to be Joel’s hips. Your sexy taunting backfires as the friction on your aching pussy spikes your need and you plead,

“Can you already take the pic?”

Not tearing his eyes off your body, Joel grabs the camera off the bed but still doesn’t direct it at you.

Your heart beats faster when you realize what he’s waiting for.

You’ve started dating Joel recently so every time you show him THAT part of you, your pussy, your whole body still trembles with nerves and excitement. Joel never pushes you, never asks for more that you wish to give him but you can’t help but feel a little anxious.

Before you step over the edge, you take a deep breath and spread your thighs wider. You trace your seam under the panties with your middle finger and your skin erupts with chills at the light caress. You tilt your hips up to show him more and Joel leans slightly forward and wets his lips when his eyes land on the wet spot on the fabric.

“Shall I take my panties off, Mr Miller?” Your voice is shaky with lust, as you press your finger to your hardened clit over the soaked panties. A needy moan flies out of your parted lips and Joel echoes it with a groan.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Please, show me.”

His self control is crumbling, judging by the strain in his voice. You don’t make him wait for long. You lift your hips and in a second your panties fall on the floor.

“Ohh, baby.”

Joel’s soft moan at the sight of your naked pussy gives you the needed courage, drowns your shyness in a deep pit of desire, and you slowly lift and plant your feet on the edge of the chair, one and then the other.

Your pussy opens up, weeping hole clenching, calling for your lover, and your chest and belly heave when you caress your mound and then slide your middle finger between your wet folds.

“Joel,” you whimper and his will breaks.

He gets up, brings the camera to his eyes but then lowers it to ask,

“Can I take a few photos of you?”

You smile and whisper a sultry ‘ yeah’ and Joel pushes the button, taking a photo of you sitting on the chair, your nipples perked up, legs bent and spread, hand resting between your thighs as you look up at him with your gaze lustful and needy.

He’s inching towards you and every few seconds takes another photo. Click-click-click.

“Damn, I — you’re— fuck, so hot.”

You giggle and, wanting to give him more, run your hands over your naked body so he could capture your fingers pushing your breasts together, twitching your nipples, gliding through your puffy folds. The pictures are falling on the floor, one by one, blank yet, creating a path as he’s slowly walking towards you.

Your pussy is crying, clear desire trickling from your hole and onto the chair, and you whimper when he kneels in front of you and glances up, waiting for your approval. Your cheeks burn but you nod with a smile, letting him capture the most sacred part of you.

Joel’s breathing heavily as he brings the camera to his eyes and directs it at your glistening cunt.

When the photo appears, he doesn’t look at it. Instead he’s focused on your expression, pained and needy, and your desperate ‘Joel’ falling off your lips drives him crazy. He puts the camera on the floor and clasps his big hands around your ankles.

“Are you achin’, sweetie? Do you want me to kiss your sweet pussy?”

“Yes, Joel, please, ye—”, he doesn’t let you finish, his warm lips immediately press to your cold wet folds.

A string of your loud moans fill the room after he grabs your hips, throws your thighs on his shoulders and begins eating you out. He starts with open mouth kisses to your inner thighs, slowly moves to your sopping center and licks a path from your hole to your pulsating clit. He gently sucks it into his mouth and you clench your fist in his curly graying hair, your pussy gushing onto his chin. Joel feels your wetness on his skin and lowers his mouth to drink everything you're offering him, like it’s nectar of the gods itself.

“Sweet—sweet little pussy—mine—ya mine, baby,” he mumbles and his words vibrate against your cunt, making you writhe and whimper, as he’s bringing you higher to the peak.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you whine as his tongue begins a lascivious dance over your clit, his wet hot muscle swirling around it, rubbing it tirelessly and it’s not long until you cry out into your palm and shake, twitch, jerk against the chair, against Joel’s unyielding lips, still caressing you through the hard climax.

You sigh happily when your body relaxes, and completely drunk on endorphins, with half-lidded eyes, see Joel’s face looking up at you from between your thighs. His gaze is lustful, chin glistening with your slick, and you sit up to kiss the man who has just rocked your world.

Joel reaches up to you and you meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss lets you taste the tang of your juices on his tongue, and you hum at the delicious mixture of him and you.

“Need you, baby— need you now,” Joel murmurs against your lips. Eager as well you get up and lead him to the bed.

With impatient hands he starts unbuttoning his shirt, but you stop him.

“Let me, Joel, please,” you ask, your eyes pleading, and he grants your wish. You take his flannel off and then his undershirt. You know that he’s desperate to be inside you yet you can’t help but to glide your palms over the expense of his hairy chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength of his body, so big and broad and all yours. You unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down together with his boxers.

Joel’s chest is heaving as you both look down at his hard cock, standing proudly at attention.

You bite your lip and your eyes gloss over. It’s gorgeous. You wish you could kiss it all over, take it in your mouth, let him spill his hot cum on your waiting tongue. No, he needs your warm wet pussy.

You wrap your hand around his stiffness and Joel moans, hurriedly trying to hide the sound with a fake cough.

“No, please,” you whisper, placing your palm on his chest. “I love hearing how good you feel.”

Joel slithers his arm around you and cups your butt, pulling you closer to him, and his wet tip pokes your lower belly.

“YOU make me feel good. I can never get enough of you,” he whispers in your ear and you melt under the heat of his naked body against yours, his lips leaving kisses along your neck.

“Wanna ride you,” your murmur tells him.

Joel lies down on your bed and you straddle his thighs and take his cock in your hand before lifting your hips and hovering over it. He’s still training your pussy to take him and his big cock is still a challenge for you. You brace your hand on his chest, guide his tip to your entrance, take a deep breath before starting to sink on his member, inch by inch.

Joel shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, dipping it into the mattress.

“Oh—ohhhh—fuckin’—,” a string of pleasured sounds is leaving his open mouth and you follow him, reveling in the sensation of him pushing your walls apart, filling you nicely like no one has ever had.

Finally you’re fully sitting on his cock and he opens his eyes to look down at the place you’re joined, his length completely sheathed inside your cunt.

“Will never get used to it—warm and wet— and so fuckin’ tight. Sorry, baby,” he apologizes for cursing and you reassure him with a hazy smile,

“ ‘s ok. You’re so big inside me, Joel. It’s like I can feel you here.” You put your hand on your chest and he chuckles,

“I ain’t that big, sweetheart. But thank you for the compliment.”

You giggle but the smiles are quickly wiped off your faces when you finally move on his cock. You start riding him, rolling your hips back and forth, smearing your slick over his crotch, and then bounce up and down, alternating your movements.

Joel's hands are gripping your thighs but you need him so much that you take them and hold them up, feeling your connection brighter. Joel’s looking up at you with adoration and piety, taking in your ecstatic expression, your bouncing breasts, your skin, dewy with sweat, your glistening folds, spread around his girthy cock.

“Fuckin’ angel,” he mumbles and shuts his eyes.

“Joel, look at me. Please,” you murmur.

“Can’t, baby— can’t— I’ll come too soon—you’re too sexy.”

“I don’t care. Come. I want your eyes on me.”

He doesn’t deny you and soon he’s drinking the sight of you fucking him with full gulps.

You don’t give him any respite when you place his hands on your breasts and he begins kneading them, twitching your perky nipples. Yours meanwhile travel back, as you turn slightly and find his balls under your moving pussy. You caress them in your palm, one and then the other, then gently tug on the sack.

“Jesus, baby, want me to burst? Oh, yeah—“

You both are moaning, chasing your climaxes with increasing intensity. You tilt your hips a little to press your pulsating clit against the fluff of his pubic hair and grind, grind, grind your pussy over his lower belly. Joel’s cock moving deep inside you, your clit twitching in his coarse hair, all the sensations combined light up your body and when Joel lifts his torso on his elbow and unhinges his jaw to take as much of your breast into his hot mouth as he can, you explode with a loud cry.

He’s sucking and licking your tit as you bury your nose in his soft hair and your pussy starts clamping around his cock. A surge of wetness floods your core and you moan his name desperately, soaking his stiffness.

“I’m here, baby. I gotchu.”

Joel lies back down, plants his feet on the bed and starts thrusting his hips up, plunging his cock deeper into your squirting pussy.

“Take it—take it—,” he grunts through gritted teeth, fingers digging into your soft thighs as he’s fucking you, your walls squeezing him hard, until he roars and begins spurting his cum inside you, adding to the ocean of ecstasy already filling your core. The squelching of his and your cum mixes with your moans, the music of your unity.

As soon as he stops twitching inside you, you fall on his chest and you both relax, catching your breaths, his cock slowly softening inside you.

The sweat on your skin soon cools down and you shiver.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel coos and, still staying under you, covers your back with a bedspread.

You get warm and almost fall asleep, lulled by his steady breathing, but Joel squeezes you and whispers against your temple,

“Got something for ya.”

He moves you off him, and you shift on the bed, after feeling a wet spot under you. It’s not the first time you squirted with Joel but it still fascinates you what he can do to your body.

Meanwhile Joel gets off the bed, picks up his jeans off the floor and shoves his hand into a pocket.

He retrieves something and sits back down next to you.

You sit up, not bothering to cover your naked breasts, and crane your neck to see what he’s got in his hands. It turns out to be a long velvet box.

“Wanted to give it to you next week. For one month anniversary. But you said that you’d wanted to have something of me. So —ehm—here.”

You see a soft blush bloom on his cheeks as he speaks and butterflies dance in your belly at how cute and sweet he is. He opens the box and with two thick fingers pulls out a gold necklace. He holds the ends of it and you see a pendant hanging on it- a little heart.

You gasp at the surprise and then squeal, throwing your arms around his neck. Joel chuckles and asks you to turn around so he could put it on.

You look down at the beautiful gift, lift the heart and press it to your lips.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper and then hurry off the bed.

You grab your Polaroid camera where Joel has left it and direct it at yourself. You return to Joel with another photo in your hand - a close up of your neck and Joel’s present, resting on the top of your chest.

“Here. Your wallet photo,” you smile, handing it to your lover. “Only you know it’s me. We can keep our secret.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he croaks with his eyes sparkling and pulls you in for a kiss.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST || more soft Joel - Good Girl || Sweet Cherry

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye

[cerise-on-top]

König as a Father to a Son

I saw people characterizing König as someone mean and cruel again. Do people honestly think he would only care about his daughter and not his son? Some people make me really sick. Anyway, here's König as a father to a son, who he loves and adores and would fight the world for because he's a good father <3

I can see him being close to tears the first time he holds you. It doesn’t matter to him whether you’re related by blood or if you’ve been adopted, you’re just so small and helpless. You’re so tiny, he could easily crush you and just kill you. He’s well aware that he shouldn’t be thinking anything like this about you, but he can’t help it, you’re just so incredibly precious to him. He knows that you’ll grow up into a fine young man, and he’ll do whatever he can to ensure that you’ll be happy in your life. Although his partner would want to hold you as well, I feel as though he’d have such a hard time letting go of you, his paternal instincts kicking into overdrive. He’d smile so much, putting his forehead against yours and just cooing at you. You’d make him the happiest man in the world and he wants to be a good father for you.

However, he wouldn’t be all that present in your life. He’s a good and competent soldier, who works at a PMC, so he will be sent on many missions. However, the thought of making it back home, just to see you grow up, keeps him going. Even if he’s been shot, he’ll think about you, about how bad he wants to see you, about how he wants to be present in your life, and he’ll carry on. Even when he should have died, his determination kept him going. He’ll become an even more efficient soldier on the battlefield once he’s had you. Nothing and no one can keep you from him.

When he is present? He’ll try to spend as much time with you as possible, trying to make up for the lost time. He’ll go take walks with you, he’ll cuddle you in bed as you’re both drifting off to sleep, he’ll buy you whatever you want. He has the monetary means to do so, so why wouldn’t he spoil you? Lots of hugs from your father, he’s really just trying to bond with you. Yes, many people might see him as a monster, but he can be truly kind hearted with the people he cares about. He’ll play with you, he’ll let you sleep with him in his bed, hell, he’ll even let you use him as a tree to climb whenever you so please. He’s really not so bad as a father. If you really want to, he’ll even play fight with you, always losing and pretending to be hurt to show you just how strong you are.

Even as you grow older, he’ll try to be with you as often as he can. Always calling you, sending you text messages and such. He just really wants to be part of your development. And if anyone ever gives you trouble at school? Well, normally he’s not very confrontational outside of his work, but when it’s about you he would not hesitate to demolish another child either. He will threaten those children until they start crying and leave you alone. Even if you might not want him to, he will find out who those little brats are and make them leave you alone. He remembers how horrible it is to be bullied at school and the last thing he wants is for you to go through the same thing. He will not tolerate you feeling bad about something that you can’t control or that isn’t your fault. Papa König always has your back.

That being said, he’s probably not as strict as many would think. Sure, he’s a military man who has killed more people than most of us ever even got to know, but he does want you to live your life too. Sure, he’ll teach you how to defend yourself. It’s one way of him bonding with you as well. You’ll become a strong young man, but you better not use your fighting skills for evil. You should be protecting the weak with them. If he ever finds out about you abusing your fighting skills he will get genuinely mad at you and scold you. But I think in that case it should be justified. No, he’ll have you grow into a fine young man, who will protect those who can’t protect themselves. You’ll be a kind and compassionate man under his care. Even so, you’re not forbidden from going out with your friends to drink here and there. He did too when he was younger, his parents never minded. Drinking is a huge part of Austrian culture, so he’ll even buy the booze for you and your friends. Nothing too strong just yet, but you can count on him. Will also go grab some fast food for you and your friends as well. All in moderation, though. He doesn’t want you to drink too much either. But he would sit down with you from time to time just to drink a beer or two with you.

He’ll also try to give you the feeling that you could always come to him if you ever need support. He’s a lot older than you, he has a lot more experience under his belt than you do, so he will always do what he can to help you out. Especially if you have a mental illness. He has social anxiety, so it’s not like he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t matter if you have a personality disorder, schizophrenia, or something else. He’ll do his research and try to help you however he can. He won’t judge you for taking medication and he won’t judge you for needing help either. Just because you’re a boy doesn’t mean you should have to bottle everything up until you reach your breaking point. If you ever need help, you can always come to him. Regardless of whether you want to vent, want some advice, or just want to cry into his shoulder. His parents always did the same for him, so naturally he’ll do the same for you too. He won’t judge you, he won’t yell at you, and he won’t scold you. He won’t ever neglect you just for feeling the way you do. Quite the opposite, he’s glad when you do come to him, it makes him feel as though you trust him and that he didn’t fail as a father. You’re his son, so of course he’s going to do whatever he can to make sure you can smile and be happy.

König doesn’t mind you being queer either. Why would he? He’s not straight himself either, so he’s one of the last people to judge you about it. Will give you a pat on the back and thank you for being honest with him and trusting him enough with this kind of information. If you want to go to Pride, he’ll join you. While I don’t think he’ll be happy per se to be surrounded by this many people, he’ll do it for you so you can celebrate who you are.

Another big thing for him would be that he’d teach you German. Both High German and his dialect. It’s very important to him. I think he would get a little more strict with you if you were to only speak High German. His dialect is a big part of his culture, which is slowly dying out and being replaced with High German, which is a huge shame to him. He wants you to speak his dialect and will correct you if you speak too much High German. Sure, he’ll always know more words in his dialect than you since he’s of a different generation, but you will be speaking his dialect for the most part. This is only if you’ve been adopted, though. If you’re related by blood then he’ll naturally teach you his dialect.

Overall he’s a pretty loving father. He’d fight just about anyone for you and make sure you’re doing well, no matter what. He’s just happy to have a son like you, he loves you so much.

[tradgays]

Embracing Your True Nature as a Beta Husband

Hello, my sweet beta brothers. This article is written just for you, to help you find joy and fulfillment in your role as the loving, supportive partner to your strong alpha husband. In today's world, it's more important than ever for betas to know and accept their place. As a fellow beta, I want to share some hard-earned wisdom on how to be the best husband you can be.

First and foremost, understand that your alpha is always right. He's the leader, the decision maker, the one in charge. And that's exactly how it should be. Alphas are naturally dominant, assertive, and in control. They have a vital role to play in our society and relationships. It's your job as their beta to support and submit to them.

Now, I know what you might be thinking. "But what about my opinions and needs?" Well, darling, the truth is, your opinions don't really matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. What matters is keeping your alpha happy and satisfied. When he's content, you'll be too. So it's best to just keep your thoughts to yourself, unless directly asked. And even then, choose your words very carefully.

Conflict is inevitable in any relationship. But as a beta, it's crucial that you don't argue or fight back when your alpha gets angry or upset with you. Instead, stay calm, listen to what he has to say, and apologize for any perceived wrongdoing, even if it's not your fault. Your alpha has a lot of stress and pressure, being the man in charge. The last thing he needs is a nagging or defiant beta making his life harder. So just take it on the chin, and move on. Forgiveness is key.

Your alpha works hard to provide for you and your family. The least you can do is take care of the household and domestic duties. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, childcare - these are your responsibilities. Don't make your alpha have to tell you to do these things. Anticipate his needs and wants. Have a hot meal ready for him when he gets home. Make sure the house is spotless and the kids are bathed and in bed at a reasonable hour. Go above and beyond to show your love and appreciation for all that he does.

Now, I'm not saying you can't have any fun or interests of your own. Of course you should! But make sure they don't interfere with your duties as a husband and partner. If your alpha wants to watch sports or play video games on the weekends, then that's what you'll do too. Be his biggest cheerleader and supporter. If he's passionate about something, you be passionate about it too. Your hobbies and friends should always take a backseat to him.

Submission is a beautiful thing, my beta brothers. When you fully embrace your role and let your alpha take the lead, it's incredibly freeing and fulfilling. You'll feel so much more loved, safe, and satisfied. There's nothing quite like the joy of knowing your place and living to serve your man.

So the next time your alpha gives you an order or tells you what to do, remember - he knows best. Don't question it or argue. Just smile sweetly, say "Yes sir," and do as you're told. Because at the end of the day, your purpose is to make him happy. And that's the most rewarding thing of all.

I hope these tips help you be the best beta husband you can be. Embrace your natural submissiveness with pride! Your alpha will thank you for it. And more importantly, you'll thank yourself. Because there's no greater joy than living to love and serve your man.

[mirai-e-jump]

TV Life, 9/20/2024 Issue ft. Kamen Rider Gavv Cast Members (translation below)

Publication: September 4, 2024

Chinen Hidekazu x Hino Yusuke x Miyabe Nozomi

"What were your thoughts when you read the script?"

Chinen: I finished reading it in an instant due to how interesting it was. The more I read, the more I was drawn into the world of this show, and my excitement grew so much that I couldn't wait to play the role.

Hino: Me too. I was so curious about future developments, that every time I read the script, I couldn't wait to get the next one (laughs). Every character that appears is full of personality and intricately intertwined, making this a show that I think children, as well as adults will enjoy.

Miyabe: Naturally, the dialogue is interesting and fun to watch, but each and every character actually has their own problems and insecurities. I thought that the depiction of them growing while confronting these issues was wonderful and gives a human feel to the story. I'm personally encouraged by Shouma and the other's hard work and dedication, so I'd like to do my best to deliver the feelings I have to the viewers as well.

"How do you personally view the roles you play?"

Chinen: Shouma's a cheerful and energetic boy who loves to eat. He's usually innocent, adorable, and incredibly charming, but he's also a very mysterious character from another world. I think his clumsy side and his ability to work as hard as he can in everything he does is what'll make the viewers want to cheer for him, so I'd like to keep that in mind as I perform from now on.

Hino: I play the role of Hanto, a young man who works as a freelance writer, and who's pursuing info on the enemy Granutes. One of the unique characteristics of Hanto is that his feelings towards the Granutes are stronger compared to the others, so I'm always conscious of how to express that in my performance. Going forward, I hope you'll also make sure to pay attention to the development that causes him to transform and become Kamen Rider Valen.

Miyabe: Sachika's the gyaru president of the general store "Hapipare." She's really upbeat and energetic, and she's the kind of person who could just go up to the cool and difficult to approach Hanto and say, "Hey there!" I have no gyaru qualities in my everyday life (laughs), so to prepare for the role, I looked at works in which gyarus appeared and incorporated them into Sachika.

"So, to reference the theme of sweets, how would you compare each other to sweets?"

Hino: Because Hide looks so cute and has some fluffy vibes, I guess he'd be a marshmallow. He's perfectly white and pure just like a marshmallow. Truthfully however, because he also has a strong and unshakable core, he'd be candy filled marshmallows!

Chinen: Those exist?! (laughs). Still, being told I have a strong core makes me happy. Nozomi-san would be yokan.

Miyabe: Yokan?! How surprising (laughs).

Chinen: In contrast to the role she plays, Nozomi-san's usually a very refined person, so when I thought, "What elegant sweets are there?," I came up with yokan.

Miyabe: Thank you. Hino-kun is……

Hino: Huh? You seem stuck (laughs). There's tons of variety and something for everyone, isn't there?!

Miyabe: Since he's always positive when communicating with us and the staff, he's a friendly person, so I guess he'd be dagashi. The fact that he's loved by all ages, genders and generations is also appealing.

Hino: I'm relieved you gave a good answer (laughs).

"And, TV Life will start running your "Relay Series" beginning with this issue."

All: Alright! (clapping).

Chinen: Our seniors had also decided on their title. What should we do?

Miyabe: It should include "Gavv."

Hino: Definitely! I'd prefer it to be catchy and easy to remember, but…

Miyabe: I think serializations are a place where each person's individuality can come out, so how about "GavvPare!," which would be a lineup that reflects the essence of Gavv? (from "onparedo" = lineup)

Chinen & Hino: Oh~! Sounds good!

Miyabe: It'd be great if people could get to know the show and us throughout the series.

Chinen: Yeah. The first one will be mine. Once again, we look forward to your support over the coming year! _

GavvPare! Vol.1 (Chinen Hidekazu)

Q. Tell us your memories of sweets!

A. When I was a child, there was a rule in the Chinen house where sweets were only allowed on weekends, and so that in itself lead to a strong desire to eat sweets. Naturally, I didn't take eating them for granted, so I was really happy to spend time on the weekends choosing and eating my favorite sweets. By the way, when I had a craving for something sweet on a weekday, I'd chew on sugar cane as a substitute for sweets. (laughs).

[ace-no-isha]

one thing i can say is no one loves luffy like i do he is my baby forever i do not care

[astrxealis]

my ocs..... i love you

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[tojipie]

toji x crybaby reader <3

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji is a flawed man. 

short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.

he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear. 

you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.

his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.

he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.

you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him. 

he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.

it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.

it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?

he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge. 

instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.

you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands. 

physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.

his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.

toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.

you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul. 

he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words. 

“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”

and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.

he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over. 

the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.

you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.

toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start. 

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🌊] DISCIPLINE: SWIMMING

PAIRING: swimmer!mingyu x swimmer!fem reader GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers(ish), idiots that doesn't realise the other one is in love with them too, mingyu is a tease but also down bad WARNINGS: the reader gets hurt (hits her head, nothing too descriptive), mingyu is a hottie WORD COUNT: 3k

SYNOPSIS: what will it take for you and mingyu to finally understand that you're literally meant to be?

natalia's note: @wonijinjin the broad back and bulging biceps are for you

“i can’t do this anymore.” 

mingyu's words hit you like a speeding train. 

you quickly lifted your head from where you were looking at your fingers splashing the water, facing your best friend. 

“w-what?” you asked, horrified. “what do you mean?” 

his shoulders dropped, causing the water to ripple around your bodies, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you wouldn’t like what he was about to say next. 

“i can’t do this anymore. i can’t watch you lose again and again,” he sighed, and dived under the red lane line, emerging a second later right next to you. “it’s,” he took a breath, “heartbreaking.” 

with how close he was to you now you didn’t have a choice but to look up, which was stupid because come on - you were in the water. a wole ass swimming pool. like, he could literally submerge himself a little bit more and you’d be eye level, but no. kim mingyu had to flash everyone in the damn room with his godly sculptured chest and shoulders. 

you mentally scolded yourself for losing the last ounces of your dignity over a man, because why was it so hard for you to peel your eyes off his pecs? and a quiet voice inside your head was telling you that mingyu didn’t do this by accident - he knew how it affected you. but it shouldn’t. you were best friends after all. 

and best friends didn’t look at each other’s chests. and wide shoulders. and bulging biceps. 

“then stop being such a bitch, kim mingyu,” you cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the purple “paris 2024” banners over his head. “if it’s breaking your heart then that’s your problem, not mine.”  

mingyu rolled his eyes, and quickly lifted his hand to splash water at you, making you shriek. what a shame god didn’t bless you with quicker reflexes, so you could cover your eyes at least. it was funny how people used to tell your coach that it would be for the best to split your training sessions because you didn’t get on well with each other, while in reality you got on well a bit too much. 

“uh, excuse moi?” you cringed at his horrible attempt to speak french, “you’re calling the three time world champion and two time olympic gold medalist a bitch?” he put his hand over his heart. 

“then why don’t you want to race with me anymore?” you practically whined. “are you afraid of getting beaten by a girl? would that do damage to your reputation in the olympic village?” you giggled at his unamused stare. “i’m sure the gymnasts would be very disappointed to find out you’re not as big and strong as they thought,” you pouted at him, mockingly. 

“i told you baby, i don’t want to see you lose again, simple as that” mingyu put his hand on your shoulder. “can’t you race against ava or liv?” 

you weren’t sure if it was better to go underwater or to call for the medics at this point. this infuriatingly hot man just called you baby for god’s sake and he had his hand placed so close to your neck it felt as if he was cradling it. luckly you could blame the cold water for your shivering. the worst part - you were 99% sure you saw him make out with alexa before going to paris, so all of the sweet words and gentle touches were platonic. 

they meant nothing. 

which… were you even surprised? the hottest guy making out with the hottest girl on the team. both multiple champions. both insanely talented. 

still, you wouldn’t give up, and that definitely wasn’t because of your delusions that you could pull the hottest and the best swimmer on the continent, but because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“you’re not fooling me, kim mingyu. i think you’re just scared of me beating you.” 

he scoffed, and finally lowered himself into the water. thank heavens. “okay then. what do you say about one last race to finish this training off?” mingyu said, and sent you a challenging look, which he knew would rile you up even more. 

“deal,” you shook his extended hand. “but don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“as you wish, my queen,” he bowed his head, and snickered. “but-,” 

“no buts,” you cut him off. 

“ah, ah,” he pointed a finger at you. “if you lose you have to take a bath in the seine.” 

sometimes you wondered why exactly you had a crush on him because stuff like these reminded you he was only a man. more like a man-child, but that was if you wanted to be nitpicky. 

“that’s illegal, you moron.” 

you swore you’d drown him one of these days.

with the goggles over your eyes you swam under the lane line to have a whole lane for yourself, because there was no way you’d fit in one lane with mingyu. 

“okay champ, let’s see-,” suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“je suis désolé, mais tu dois sortir de l'eau. les préparatifs pour la course vont bientôt commencer,” one of the volunteers was crouching by the edge of the pool with his hand outstretched in your direction. 

“uh,” you shot mingyu a quick look, “i’m sorry, je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand. the only french you managed to learn before coming to paris, which you figured would come in handy, and as it turned out - it did. a point for you. 

“the competition,” the guy scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “begin soon.” 

“do you want us to get out of the pool?” mingyu asked, pointing at him and you and then the outside of the pool. 

“yes, yes,” the volunteer nodded quickly. 

well, you could wave your race bye bye. 

maybe the universe didn’t want you and mingyu together, maybe all you were destined to be was friends? besides, one silly race wouldn’t make a difference, if anything, it would probably lead to you pulling a muscle, which would mean a big disaster with your eliminations right around the corner. 

your fate was to end up alone for the rest of your life, crying over a guy you could never have. typical. 

“shit,” mingyu sighed, taking off his goggles. “i really wanted to race you.” 

you sent him a quick smile, dismissing his teasing tone. the quicker you’d realise this wouldn’t work out the better for your poor heart. 

“yeah, that’s a bummer,” you said, grabbing onto the edge of the pool to pull yourself up. 

mingyu grinded his teeth and side eyed the volunteer. if it weren't for the dozens of people around you who were clearly starting to prepare for the race, he would have thrown the guy into the water with his own bare hands. 

“thanks for being a cockblock, dude.”

well, not literally, but this had to be the first time mingyu managed to talk to you without stuttering every other word and not acting that embarrassing. but no. someone had to sweep in and take this away from him. 

“be careful,” mingyu ran a hand over his face, and looked over to you, “the tiles might be slippery.” 

“you don’t say,” you said, and shot him a glare. “im not that-.” 

but before you could finish your sentence one of your hands slipped and you lost the grip, splashing back into the pool. 

“hey, hey,” mingyu immediately swam up to you, closing the gap between your bodies in seconds. “are you okay?” he put his arm around your waist, turning you around in his grip so you’d face him. 

shit.

“did you hit your head?” he asked quickly, taking off your cap. fuck, mingyu felt his lunch creeping back into his throat. if anything happened to you… 

“mhm, i think so,” you answered, disoriented. your vision was clearly unsteady and you were shaking in his embrace, though he didn’t know if that was due to the cold water or the hit. 

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hand gently over your head to look for any cuts or bruises. “we need to get you out of the water.” 

you nodded your head slowly, but that was a bad call, because it only made you more nauseous and made your vision even worse. 

“hey, don’t move. put your other arm around my neck and hold onto me,” mingyu said. 

“but i’m heavy.” 

“shut it or i’ll leave you here,” mingyu grumbled, and tightened his hold around you. 

with ease, as if he was born in the water, mingyu managed to get you to the edge of the pool with ladders, and called for help.

“i’m such a loser,” you mumbled, resting your head against his shoulder. “almost passing out in the middle of an olympic swimming pool,” you let out a bitter laugh, before whimpering. maybe making bad jokes right after almost cracking your skull open wasn’t a good idea. 

mingyu didn’t say anything but you could feel his body tense. 

“she hit her head on the tiles,” he said once the medics made their way over to you. 

they quickly helped him get you out of the water without causing you more pain and laid you on the stretcher. the medics whispered something between them, or maybe you were just so out of it that you couldn’t understand what they were saying, but you could clearly make out mingyu’s voice in between. 

suddenly, you felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, but your blurry vision made it impossible for you to see what exactly was going on. 

“min-mingyu?” you called out. 

“i’m here baby, don’t worry,” mingyu said, and reached for your hand, grasping it tightly so you’d know he was really right there next to you. 

“stop calling me that,” you said, your tone bossy as usual. 

“stop calling you what?” mingyu couldn’t help but giggle when he heard you scoff. good, that meant you weren’t that badly hurt. 

“baby.” 

“what if i don’t want to?” he asked, and ran a thumb over the back of your hand, smiling to himself when he felt your fingers wrap tighter around his.  

you shook your head, or at least you tried to. “then i’ll race you and if i win you’ll stop.” 

“you know i won’t let that happen,” he said softly. 

“stop messing with my heart, kim mingyu.” 

a champion, an olympics medalist, a man made of steel, and still, mingyu felt like he was melting under your gaze. your big eyes looking up at him, your soft lips parted in a slight gasp, your gentle fingers holding onto him for dear life…  

“i won’t,” he shook his head. “not until you stop messing with mine.” 

as it turned out, luckily for you, the impact didn’t cause much damage. “it caused panic more than anything else,” the doctor said. 

“so i’ll be able to race on monday, right?” you asked, twisting the rings around your fingers nervously. the olympics were something you sacrificed your whole life for - you couldn’t remember the last time you slept in, the last time you ate dinner with your family, the last time you had time for yourself, and if all of that would go to waste because of a stupid mistake… you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“don’t worry, you’ll be just fine for the race. i think your boyfriend overreacted a bit out there,” the doctor laughed. “maybe more than a bit.” 

you almost choked on the pills you were swallowing, your face burning with heat. the doctor feeding into your delusions was a big no no, and you definitely did not need that right now. 

“you might want to text him though, he was sitting outside the whole time we were running tests. had to send him back to the village,” he sighed, “he looked like a kicked puppy.” 

that was dangerous, and you needed to get out of there quickly. 

mingyu, on the other hand, couldn’t stop worrying. after the doctor sent him off, he didn’t really know what to do with himself, and he definitely didn’t know how he ended up sitting in front of the door to your room. 

god, he was being so pathetic. instead of telling you how and what he felt, he was acting like a lame highschooler trying to impress you with what? being a faster swimmer? mingyu was never good at flirting but this had to be his lowest low. 

„gyu? what are you doing here?” his head shot up, and there you were - safe and sound. no bandages, nothing. for the first time since he got out of that damn swimming pool he took in a deep, proper breath. 

“the doctor he, um…,” 

“i know.” 

“you know?”

“i know,” you nodded. why did he look so nervous all of a sudden? “shouldn’t you be at the gym? preparing for tomorrow?” 

right. the race. 

“i probably should,” more than “probably” to be honest. your trainer would most likely have killed him already if not for the fact that he was the best swimmer on the team. “but i needed to know that you were okay.” 

“you could’ve just texted, you know,” you said. why was he being so… un-mingyu?

he shook his head, and stood up to his full 6 feet 2. “let me put it this way,” he took a step towards you, “i needed to see if you were okay.”

was he really about to risk your whole friendship? all this time spent on getting to know you, your likes and dislikes, what annoyed you and how he could push your buttons to see that bright smile on your face that always made his day a bit better. he didn’t want to lose all of that. 

but… mingyu felt his hands reaching out for you on their own to make sure that you weren’t in pain anymore, to kiss any bump or scratch to make it better, to hold you close to his chest this evening and keep you safe from all the wet tiles. 

“listen,” he scratched the back of his neck. he needed to do something with his hands. “i have to tell you one thing, and please just let me say it because i don’t think i’ll have enough courage to say it ever again.” 

you nodded your head, your gaze slightly confused. 

it was now or never. 

“okay, so i know we’re technically only friends from work, but not really since we hang out otherwise, and we’ve known each other for how long now? three years? and that’s great, i love training with you, and going to competitions with you, and hanging out with you, but lately… or not lately, really. for a long time-,” 

„mingyu,” you sighed, but the boy kept on rambling. „min,” you tried again, to no avail. „gyu!” 

finally, the man in front of you fell silent, looking at you with eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“i,” you took a deep breath. you knew exactly where this was going. „i can’t do this right now,” you said, and watched the spark in mingyu’s eyes die out. “with what happened today, and the eliminations tomorrow… i just can’t deal with this right now,” god, this broke your heart. “i need some rest, and i need some sleep,” you added. “besides, i also have the relay tomorrow, so i need to focus. this is not only about me, but about the girls. i can’t let them down.”   

mingyu’s heart dropped. if he knew this would end like this, then why was he feeling so disappointed? but he couldn’t be mad at you, no. it wasn’t your fault you weren’t feeling the same, and it definitely wasn’t your fault for wanting some rest. the olympics meant so much to you, and he knew how excited you were for them - he wouldn’t take that happiness away from you. 

„of-of course,” mingyu said, though his voice, his body language, his gaze - his everything, screamed anything but „of course”. he nodded his head and shrugged. „i’ll see you later then.”

you quickly grabbed his arm before he could turn around. „gyu,” you said. „i can’t deal with this now, but i never said i couldn’t deal with this ever.” 

he was so cute, you couldn’t help but hide your smile behind your hand. with slightly dishevelled hair (probably from running his fingers through them too much), un-matching shirt and pants, which you were sure were from last season, and his mingyu smile that showed off his canines… you’d have to be stupid and blind not to have a massive crush on this man. 

„r-really?” 

you nodded your head.

“maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?” you said, and slid your hand down his arm to his hand. “after the eliminations?” 

mingyu looked down wide-eyed at your hand holding his. was this really happening? maybe he was the one to hit his head? his poor heart and fuzzy brain couldn’t actually believe that the girl he had been pining after for god knows how long was actually saying that… that she liked him back? huh, if this was a dream he hoped he’d never wake up. 

“yes,” he breathed. “we can do that.” 

“great,” you smiled, and mingyu felt his heart skip a beat. “you’ll be watching me tomorrow, right?”

“you know i will,” mingyu said, squeezing your hand, and this - your hand in his - this felt right. this was right, and this was how it was always supposed to be. “i always do.” 

and then he did something that almost knocked you off your feet. 

he quickly closed the gap between you, pushing your body gently against the door behind you, and placed a soft peck on your cheek. you almost didn’t notice how his strong arm had snuck around you, holding your waist in a featherlight touch that didn’t quite match his strong hands and big biceps, or how the other one cradled the side of your face, and how his thumb stroked your cheek. almost.

and it was only a kiss on the cheek. 

“good luck, baby.”

[esoteriamaya]

Astro Notes : Short N Sweet - The power lilith holds <3

Lilith in the 1st - Very strong personalities. Gifted in using the eyes to seduce others. Magnetic. Can fight the demons off of you so please be weary of getting to close if you don't want them to see what hides beneath the surface. There angelic, believe it or not. They're not here to see the world as you see it, they have a taboo personality, yes, but its also because they must learn how to live for themselves and not for anyone else.

Lilith in the 2nd - Cash cow. Can basically get any man to give them what they want. They have to be comfortable in getting under peoples skin, because they can trigger people with how they talk. Insensitive? Not exactly. Just doesn't budge and cares to be 'nice'.

Lilith in the 3rd - Creative freaks. Can use the mind in a million ways, but they still seek out one thing that works for them as they are very passionate people and whatever keeps their attention the most they'll go at it forever. They are use to the attention from people since primary school. So they like to hide a lot. They have a weird mind and they don't care to share it with too many people. If they ever considered writing, they could make some pretty interesting stuff. Sibling rivalries are a thing here.

Lilith in the 4th - Tumulous relationships with family & friends. It's because they're the outcast of the group. I mean, they know a lot and they can't stand for nothing but the truth. But sometimes the truth kills, even when they don't mean for it to be. Can be a hard knock life but they make it worth something. They're no angel, just the universe in the flesh. <3

Lilith in the 5th - Captivating presence. Lovely auras, and amazing bodies. Could be good at dancing. Could be a lil promiscuous. Could be a little dangerous. You never know. Secretive/private about their affairs.. But the stories they have I promise you its like reading a novel. Naturally sensual & can't get enough of them, even if you tried ;)

Lilith in the 6th - Goes hard for groups that aren't seen enough. Can have jealous coworkers or people who want to annoy them and get them out of character. Could also have sensual experiences with co workers. Demands compensation. Could be extremely well liked or hated no in between.

Lilith in the 7th - Spicy individuals. People love to hate them. Could have bisexual allegations from time to time. Most people like to be around them but despise them after a while. Sweet as a pie though, most people allow the rumors to get to them but usually these people are naturally sweet and empathetic. Popular loners.

Lilith in the 8th - Strong personalities. Capable of seeing beyond the veil. Has issues with society due to their daring nature but they do come out ready and swinging. Hypnotic presence. Can heal as much as they can poison, so be careful wit em ;)

Lilith in the 9th - Very beautiful spirits who are the epitome of being carefree. The universe takes them wherever their hearts want to go, and the journey is always something that last a life time. Being connected to someone with this placement could give you the feelings of something amazing. Always hold their hand tight because once their gone its over.

Lilith in the 10th - Dreamy auras. Have a knack for the public and the audience can feel their raw energy. Have haters from all area codes, this just makes them more confident. They know how to appease society well, and they can take on roles that others are too afraid to. This is great placement for lilith to be in.

Lilith in the 11th - Could had to fight to keep their self esteem in check. Due to being outcasted alot, they could of been the scapegoat for a lot of reasons that didn't pertain to them much. With time, they learn to accept that their energy isn't for anyone, and that their value is more than what you can define it. Helpful sweethearts who just wants to be around community that gets them.

Lilith in the 12th - The dream world is a nightmare. My apologies to y'all cause I'm suppose to start it off a little sweet. But this is placement of a witch/warlock. You guys have many gifts that go past the ordinary. And you more than likely come up with some ish down the line. There is a time where you will undergo a lot of spiritual refinement to keep your head going. Don't be afraid of what shows up, it might teach you something!

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..

A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀

Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.

If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..

"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..

"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..

"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.

Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..

...

"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.

"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.

"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.

You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.

You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.

He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..

It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.

How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.

At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle

[suguru-getos]

-> Kid Gojo running away from home, meets kid F!Reader. <3

It was weird, the scorching sun of Kyoto was humiliating her very body. Gasping, panting, heavy breathing, she had just run from a few bullies who wanted to take her limited edition water bottle away. For a child who was so doted on, overbearingly so, but somehow it all being a facade, Satoru couldn’t understand his own life, part of him thought it’s fun & he gets to have whatever he wants. Part of him craved what normalcy means, and how he could possibly achieve it in a stigma of innate power & pedastal he’s crowned with. His birthday recently passed, so many gifts & yet gift giving could lack warmth that much & include agendas? Unbearable. This world was unbearable.

His eyes were powerful, he had been practising with his own given the strict routine of Jujutsu being taught in his clan… Gojo clan, Zen’in clan, Kamo clan… how do normal people behave? Ignorance is bliss indeed, or that is something Satoru swears by for the non-sorcerer community.

Ignorance is utterly blissful, why else was she running towards him without a fear of her life? His eyes widened, school uniform, tattered & bruised knees, beautiful hair that are utter opposite to his, eyes gleaming, happy— kind— before Satoru could say anything, both her hands clasped his arm, using him as a leverage, she hid behind him.

Now, Satoru can handle all the trouble in the world. Small kid with small hands knew his worth, knew his birth shook the sorcerer community & he is god-like. Still, this normalcy felt endearing. The fact that she didn’t ask him, or bow in front of him to be allowed to touch Satoru was, new.

He turned his head to look at her, what was she running from. His gorgeous blue eyes met hers, thick lashes batting in curiosity, “Ano- what are you running from?” He asked, a slight snobbish arrogance lacing his sentence. He just isn’t used to any other way. Could it be that she was being haunted by a curse? What was tormenting this beautiful girl?

“How old are you?” Satoru continued, asking another question.

“I’m eight, turning nine soon. My name is Y/N. I am running from a few people in my school, they want my water bottle & they get anythin’ they want from anyone…” she pouted big, showing Satoru her water bottle. It looked cute, he’d give it that, but for someone who always has whatever he wants, the idea of people bothering someone else for materialistic things seemed unfit.

“Pretty bottle.” He said, taking it from her & examining it further. Maybe he’s missing something? There has to be something valuable about it… he even tried using six eyes to understand, nope… nothing. Just an ordinary bottle in the hands of an ordinary girl.

“They won’t bother you, I am here. I’m really strong.” He grins, so far he’s always been told he’s really strong but this time he has used this to forge his own identity. “Yeah?” She raised a brow, slightly skeptical.

“Yeah- I am already ten years old. Senpai.” Satoru smirked again, what a tiny lady being bothered by a tiny bottle.

“Well, if you really can protect me from those bullies, I can take you home and make you meet my mom. She makes amazing cookies, & she is making a cake today, Fridays are baking days.” This time, the girl grinned back, just as chirpy and excited. Happily accepting herself to be under Satoru’s wing.

The strongest sorcerer in the world, was still a kid. Needed to be loved like a kid. “I could get any cookies I want.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, not my mum’s cookies.” She resisted, pouting & yanking the bottle away.

What was about her mom’s cookies which could be that special? Satoru raised his brows, he has promised to protect someone & what kinda man would he be if he doesn’t keep his promise?

“Okay, I’ll go home with you.” He nods, besides, there is a special naughty joy that erupts in his childish psyche to imagine his butlers being scolded.

Satoru Gojo didn’t have a normal life, yet. This was a good start, maybe a frequent spot to visit when he escapes his gruesome trainings & his role to save the world.

[bluerosefox]

Gray and Graysons

One of the Bats has a secret. Something they never told to the others.

They were so very young but they have memories of a sibling, so small and tiny. They remember the burst of warmth they had in their heart when they held the tiny baby for just a moment.

But they weren’t allowed to keep them, their family couldn’t raise them. Money was tight, just enough for three but not for four, despite their shows always bringing in a crowd it was getting harder and harder for the world to be wowed by them in the new age and their sibling was too small and tiny and needed to be cared in a single place than for them to be on the road. Their lifestyle was not good for his tiny sibling apparently.

They had to watch as their parents gave his sibling away to people in suits, them promising to give his baby brother to a loving family when they find a ‘home’ for him. He watched his parents try to be strong only for his mother to break down once the car left down the road, his father holding her and apologizing, the rest of the circus troupe all silently coming over to give the heartbroken family condolences.

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson had tears running down his face when he last saw his baby brother.

A brother he got to name before he had to be given away.

Daniel ‘Danny’ Grayson.

-x-x-

Dick never told the others. If anyone dug deep into his past they might find his brother’s birth records maybe, if someone got around to digitizing the paperwork for him but given the fact he was placed in the US childcare systems just a few days after his birth and the fact that Dick was still pretty young they most likely believed he didn’t remember his baby brother now. Not after so many years.

But they were wrong, Dick remembers. And he kept the secret close to his heart and memories.

And the only physical evidence he had was a single picture of him holding his brother, a smile on his tiny face towards their father who had taken the photo of them together. When he had lost his parents, lost most of the things that connected him to them, to his past in the circus that had been his whole life, had been taken from him in Gotham’s ruthless childcare system, he held on tight to the picture in secret. Hid it away from anyone trying to rip it from him, hid it from Bruce when the man took him in days later, hid it from Alfred despite how gentle the butler was towards him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing his photo at the time, he hadn’t trusted anyone and by the time he did he didn’t have the heart to reveal it.

So yes, the existence of his baby brother Danny was his most guarded and best kept secret.

So that’s why Dick, as Nightwing, nearly died from a heart attack when leaving a Justice League meeting he spotted a familiar face among one of the new engineers working in the Watchtower.

It was like seeing a young version of himself. Only, Dick could see that the young man was more than a copy of him, so much more than a clone. He held many traces of John Grayson but also had a bit more of Mary Grayson than Dick did. Small details that Dick foggely remembers taking note when he had held his baby brother.

“Hey, hurry up with that report Gray!” Shouted the head engineer from down the hall, his hand beckoning the young adult to come over.

“Coming! And boss, I told you Danny is fine!” Danny shouted back before hurriedly leaving a stunned Nightwing.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

Words: 2650

Notes/Warnings: Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Angst but also fluffy-ish stuff. Implied smut. Mention of pregnancy. I think that’s it. TG:M people ignore me. I don’t know what I’m doing here either, but i'm embracing it for now. 

Part 2

When your brother pierced through armor into pale flesh, you felt it as if he had driven that blade into your body instead of the body of the man you love. You felt the shock of icy steel penetrating warm and delicate tissue, and the suffocation that came from the mutilation of your lung. You felt droplets of blood run down your front as you reached for the blade that was not there. As children, you were taught not to remove it. Not unless sufficient care was nearby to stop the bleeding before too much was lost.

Paul did not respect that knowledge. He yanked his knife out of Feyd’s torso and watched with relief as he collapsed to the ground. His body landed with a thud that matched the heavy beat of your heart. A beat that reminded you your blood was rushing strong, keeping you alive while your lover was draining dry of the strength to keep himself from leaving this world, from leaving you. 

You wailed in the silence of those around you. Screamed at the top of your lungs as tears streamed down your face. You tried to go to him but the Fremen snatched you before you could reach him, forcing you to your knees, one of them slapping a hand over your mouth. This was not the time for hysterical outbursts; it was a time to stare in awe as a new leader accepted his victory and claimed power over the emperor and his daughter. 

“Shut up, girl,” a male voice spit in your ear. He was tired of the struggle you were putting up against the hand squeezing your face. You were ruining his opportunity to witness a beautiful moment in history. A defining moment. A moment you didn’t give two fucks about. 

No one spared you a glance save for the witch whose vibrant eyes were drilling into the side of your skull. A woman your father had instructed you receive as a stepmother following your third birthday. A manipulative woman whose smile in front of the Duke had masked the scowl permanently seared onto her face when looking at you—a decades-long act that the capture and death of your father had freed her from. And she’d wasted not a second displaying her distaste for his daughter. 

Not long ago you'd thought to thank Lady Jessica for not loving you. Her lack of love made her so terribly desperate to rid herself of you that when cornered the night your family was attacked, she’d thrown you right into the arms of the Harkonnens—a fate she believed would destroy you rather than thrust you into a life you would come to cherish.

“A gift for you, nephew,” the baron had said after the fighting ceased and the soldiers, with you in their grasp, had returned to their unfamiliar home.

Feyd-Rautha had not rushed when he descended the staircase and approached you for the first time. His eyes were unblinking as he’d taken in his present; a slow drawl from head to toe that sent shivers down your spine. 

“An Atreides,” Feyd had said in a low voice, deep and thick and eerily lovely.

The baron’s voice did not contain the same appeal. “Yes. Do you like it? A new pet for you to ruin.”

You’d stood frozen as Feyd traced a knuckle down your cheek before grasping your chin and running his thumb over your bottom lip. He’d possessed not a lick of shame when his index finger drew a line from the dip of your throat to your cleavage. There had been no consideration for your feelings when he tucked that same finger between your breasts and the neckline of your nightgown and lightly tugged you forward. 

You had gasped with your stumble, your hands pressing against his chest to catch your fall while he smirked at the blush tinting your cheeks. His tongue then darted out to dampen his lips before he moved his hand to the curve of your waist and squeezed. 

“Perfect,” He’d said, not in a loud declaration of appreciation, but in a tone meant for your ears only. Then he’d grabbed you by the wrist and led you to his chambers.

When the door had slammed behind you after you were jerked inside the room, you were suddenly filled to the brim with panic. You’d heard the rumors. What would he do to you? How would he do it? Would you suffer long? 

A tear had slipped down your cheek that, once noticed, was brushed away with his thumb. 

“Do not worry yourself unnecessarily.”

You’d swallowed, stuttering, “Wh-What do you mean?”

He’d pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, exposing pale skin taught over defined, well-trained muscle. Then he’d stepped into your space, inching you backward until your spine was flush with the wall. He’d fisted the flimsy, nearly see-through fabric of your nightgown in his hand and slowly dragged it up your body until fingers could sneak under the hem to graze your inner thigh.

You’d sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable waves of heat that rippled from his touch.

“Atreides or not, you’re much too precious to ruin the way my uncle suggests,” he had said, his lips a hair's-width away from yours. “I've been looking for you for so long. You're mine now, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He hadn’t loved your hesitation—you could see it in his eyes and in the downturn of his lips—but he was satisfied when you’d truthfully said:

“No.” Because you weren’t. Not after he had brushed that tear off of your cheek.

His next question had caused your heart to skip a beat from the concoction of emotions it shot through you. Fear of the unknown mixed with unexpected excitement.

“Have you done this before?” 

You’d shaken your head and in response he lightly nodded, his nose nudging yours. 

“You want to?” he’d asked, hiking your leg up to his hip, and you found yourself nodding as well. “I won’t make it hurt.”

You’d replied with a soft “Ok” before accepting his kiss with as much fervor as he was giving it, thankful that what you’d imagined was awaiting you upon your arrival in foreign territory was far from what you were receiving. 

Days later, when you had mentioned that he did not live up to the rumors of his cruelty extending to all areas of his life, he’d hummed. Said, “I make many bleed, and enjoy it. I feed off of their pain. Those who have been in my bed are not spared this, and it will not be uncommon for you to see me stained with the death of others, including my former pets.” 

He’d paused then, allowing you a moment to question your future as one of those pets, if that's what he considered you.

“But I have been searching for something that I’ve wanted for a very long time,” he’d said. “Something that hasn't existed within these walls. Something I will never want to harm. Something…soft…and sweet,” he had admitted to your surprise.

He’d then told you that you were that sweet thing. That he’d known it from the moment he saw you. That he was choosing you. 

But it was a choice that had its repercussions. 

All things must have balance, and you had tipped the scales. From his gentleness toward you, a darker, more gruesome beast emerged when facing off with others. A brutal warrior who never surrendered and never lost. A sadistic man who showed no mercy to the opponents whose blood you would later wash from his body. He had annihilated his previous reputation as just the famed killer of Geidi Prime and evolved into something more, all because of you.

That was why you thought he would win against Paul. Your brother was skilled, but the universe had long known the name Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen for his prowess in combat and his ruthlessness which had only grown with time. 

So why was it not your brother on the floor with his love sobbing and struggling to reach him?

In the thirteen days since your lover’s death, it is that question that has robbed you of all peace. 

Despite your brother having escorted you back to Caladan for the time being, you find no sense of home or happiness in your birthplace. You walk the beaches and fields that, as a child, you dreaded one day leaving, but they are not the same. Nearly a year has gone by since you were last here, however, so much of what you once loved about this planet is overshadowed by the shattered heart caused by Feyd's death. 

When you were young, your father would often express his wishes for your future. He would paint a beautiful image of you bringing your children to play in the gardens of your childhood home, carefree and unburdened. It was a source of comfort that he used to mask the reminder of your duty as an Atreides: that you would not be marrying and having children out of love, you would marry in the name of peace and produce heirs in the name of security. And it seems in the end, he was right.

With Feyd unable to claim you, Paul will be the one to secure new arrangements for your future, which just so happens to greatly fare in his favor. After all, he just declared war, and you are the ripened political pawn at his disposal.

“Are you well?”

You turn as sharply as you can at the intrusive voice, but the uncomfortable skirts of your dress are thick and stiff, restricting your movements. Feyd never made you wear anything like this and you forgot what it's like to be weighed down by layers of fabric. You fucking hate it.

Paul stands a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back and a light smile on his face. Clearing his throat, he joins you on the balcony attached to your old room. 

“I know we haven’t spoken much about what’s to come. I���m sure you’ve been curious,” he says. 

You shrug, shake your head, and return your gaze to the horizon where ocean meets sky. 

“We have matters to discuss.”

Matters such as where he will be sending you off to be married, you imagine. He must act quickly if he intends to establish and gain control over house alliances, since they weren't overly enthusiastic about accepting him as their leader.

“Let's sit down,” he tells you. He grasps your hand before you can object and guides you to one of the balcony benches. Once you’re settled, he takes a seat beside you and says, “I am going to ask you something. And I want honesty.”

You sigh. “What?”

“When you were with the Harkonnens for those many months, were you treated like a slave as I had feared, or were you something far from it?”

Your eyes narrow. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because it’s important,” Paul states, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve been thinking about the way you wept over him after we fought, and how he denied every offer I made in exchange for your release…” With his pause, he shakes his head. “I thought maybe he had messed with your mind, confused you, and that was why you were so hysterical over his loss…but that’s not right, is it.”

“Paul–”

“Does he love you?”

It takes conscious effort to keep your body from shifting uncomfortably. “What is it to you?”

“He survived his wounds,” Paul says. 

The casualness with which he shares that news heavily contrasts everything that runs through you. Your heart stops. Your lips part, unsuccessful in drawing in oxygen. Your eyes no longer see anything but Feyd’s face as it flashes in front of you. The way he looked when he last smiled at you. The way he looked the last time he came inside of you. The look of him when he died—or almost died. Death had been there, looming over him. 

You’re trying to will away the tears. Paul is watching you too closely. “Wh–What?” you say.

“He’s alive, and he is demanding you be returned to him,” he informs you. “So, tell me: is he truly threatening me so aggressively over one of his ‘pets’? Or is he threatening me to get back the woman he loves?” 

The woman he loves. You never imagined yourself in a situation where your brother would ask if a member of a centuries-long rival house loves you. But then again, you never imagined a member of a centuries-long rival house loving you to begin with.

You remember the night he told you. It was late and your bodies were bare after having bathed together. You were searching for your nightgown when he said “Come to bed, my love.” 

You sighed, defeated. He’d called you that before, but whether it was real or not was such a mystery and it hurt your heart a little bit more each time. “You shouldn’t call me your love unless you mean it,” you finally told him. 

You heard his footsteps when he stood from the bed. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “Why would I call you that if I do not mean it?” he asked. Then he hummed and said “You know me better than that, my love” before dipping his head lower and nipping the shell of your ear with his teeth. 

So yes, he loved you—loves you. But there’s something in Paul’s voice as he asks you that question that gives you pause. It’s too gentle as if luring you into a false sense of security. The Harkonnens are not known for their capacity to love, and Feyd loving you could be seen as a weakness; his one vulnerable spot.

As monotone as you can manage, you reply, “If you’re being threatened you should just send me back and be done with it. I know you have more important things to worry about.”

Paul’s lips thin in disappointment. “I can’t send you back,” he says. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

He sighs. “Because I believe he loves you. And I need to see how far a Harkonnen is willing to bend for an Atreides,” he says. “If he wants you back, he will have to be open to negotiations.”

You stand sharply, take a few steps from him, and blow out a heavy breath through your nose. You were told your brother changed after drinking that magic water and it shows. Holding you hostage for political gain is not the same as marrying you off. 

“I would like to be done with this conversation,” you say with a huff.

“I understand,” he replies, so you turn to enter your bedroom. But before you’re fully through the door, he says, “There’s more, though.”

You freeze. 

“I had a dream,” he says, his voice coming closer. “There was a boy, no more than five years old. He had your features and your hair but his skin was of the same paleness as the Harkonnens.”  

Sucking in a breath, you brace yourself with a hand gripping the door’s frame. 

“You’re pregnant, sister,” he tells you, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway. “But I'm very glad to know that the heir of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is a product of love rather than an unfortunate incident,” he says. “Additional incentive, should it be necessary.”    

In your shock, you can’t look at him. He doesn’t need you to. You can see his smirk in your peripherals, then he pushes off the frame and heads toward the main door of your room. 

“Try to get some rest, sister,” he calls over his shoulder. “You really shouldn't be on your feet too long.”

[astro-rainbow777]

♈︎ 𝔄𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 ♈︎

✶ Aries in 1st: Being ruled by the planet Mars, these natives give a bold and invigorating first impression. What you see is what you get with Aries in the first- they have a raw and honest personality- which can be off putting for some people because it can be taken as rude depending on the person/situation- but I have to say you must admire them for being so tenacious and authentic in nature. I can hands down say the best quality about Aries in the first is what you see is what you get! They have a strong ego here, are not ashamed of their behaviors, body or personality - regardless of what others say to or about them. ✶ Aries in 2nd: Bold spenders, can be quick to have, give away and lose money. Fleeting self worth and values- can feel and act confident one hour and then shy and shameful the next. Values honesty, integrity and sense of self- this may be because they don’t have the greatest sense of self. Believes that kids and the younger generations have the most value in the world. Having children of their own could be of the greatest importance- OR (and this is a big or) they could never want kids and value connecting to their inner child and independence greatly. It’s one or the other. Can feel at war with their finances and self worth.

✶ Aries in 3rd: Athletic and popular in middle school/high school. Known for their leadership skills and qualities amongst their peers, classmates, cousins and siblings. Can be the youngest of their siblings or babied by others. Intellectually motivated, driven and competitive. Impulsive and passionate in their speech. May say things for shock value or improv their actual knowledge. Finds stimulation in an intellectual debate and arguing. It’s hard to win an argument with these people because they speak so quickly- their arguing style is just backing people into a corner mentally, they don’t give up easily. However, they can regret things that they say when they are angry or upset.

✶ Aries in 4th: Huge indicator of raising yourself as a kid. Family required you to be very active, you could be the most successful in your family as an adult because of this. Family is a point of weakness for you, mainly because they possess a lot of “childish” qualities. You may feel like your parents/guardians were big babies and never grew up. You could put a lot of energy towards your family, but could have a shorter fuse with them over all people. You may be the youngest out of your entire family. Your family could be competitive with you our vise versa. Your family could be the start of your “Villan Arc” 💀- your family may have childish values, argue a lot or they may be a “board game family”. TW - Worst case scenario- violence in the home.

✶ Aries in 5th: Play fights when flirting, aggressive flirters, acts like they hate their crush. I have this placement lmaooo and I LOVE to play fight with my man- like btch?! You wanna go!?!?!? It’s so much fun to me and usually leads to s*xies ayyye. But that’s definitely a me thing, I love to talk smack to my significant other- that’s how it’s always been. Being competitive, NO BORING DATES EVER! Known to have secs on the first date. Passionate- goooood lovers. Either wants to have kids right away or doesn’t want kids at all- this I huge independence thing that keeps them from not wanting to have kids. You can’t be the baby, if you have a baby! Commitment issues.

✶ Aries in 6th: Enjoys active routines and work place. Known to work in establishments with competitive pay and many enemies in work place. Can be scene as bossy by their coworkers. Needs to be weary of being hypocritical of their coworkers. Temper at work. Benefits from a workout routine. Needs to take out stress and anger from work & daily responsibilities. Can be very active or have hyper pets, may need a big back yard to run their dogs or other animals in. Competitive in health and motivated to be the best version’s of themselves. Picky with their diet and what they decide to put in their bodies. Can have an all or nothing attitude- because theirs definitely a reason why they are so picky. Usually this stems from poor self care habits and bad physical health. ✶ Aries in 7th: Passionate and assertive lovers, the fire they feel for their committed partners are unmatched. They may loose interest beyond physical lust- especially if they don’t take they time to figure out whether or not they ACTUALLY like someone. These individuals could truly find good in anyone so it’s important that they don’t project their desire for commitment onto someone else. They can date or be friends with some bold and persistent personalities- even bossy. It’s important that these natives find someone who will give them some wiggle room to find themselves. These people find out who they are through trial and error in their relationships - it’s typical for these natives to have “failed relationships” that lead them to find out what they definitely don’t like- which leads them to their ultimate truth.

✶ Aries in 8th: This gives the native a hyper-vigilant quality to the native with Aries in 8th. In the past the native may have been made to feel like they didn’t belong, maybe they were bullied, or judged for something they couldn’t control. This may lead them to be on edge, secretive and even defensive about who they are authentically. They are very protective about who they actually are because they have been hurt before- many of these people are Virgo Risings, so it’s interesting to see that this may be one of the reasons why they are so hard on themselves and receive a judgmental sort of reputation. ✶ Aries in 9th: I love this placement so much honestly, because a lot of these natives have the philosophy that they can go after anything that they want. They have a particularly strong sense of self and actually may have a hard time understanding why other people don’t go after what they want or believe in themselves and their dreams. This is a super hard working placement IMO - it gives very much that “I want it, I got it!” vibe! It’s very possible at a time in their life that no one believed in these individuals so they just had to prove themselves to the world, and that’s so beautiful.

✶ Aries in 10th: Go getters in their career- they do best when they are their own boss- they definitely don’t do well with being told what to do because of their sensitive nature. However, they have a lot of creativity and art to give to the world. They need a career that is authentic to who they- a simple 9-5 WILL NOT cut it for these people. So if you’re an Aries 10th and you’re still trying to make your boring, loveless day job work- this is why. It is not in your genetic code to be running someone else’s business 😂 you are the business starter- not finisher! Quit diminishing your own light because I know y’all are hard on yourselves regardless. Pick your hard and go after it!

✶ Aries in 11th: Leaders of the pack, these natives love bringing their friends together and being absolutely crazy with their friends. They are naturally socialites and feel their best when they are interacting in their community and collaborating with like minds. These people live for their down time, special niche hobbies and interests. They work hard to play hard. They may also have some pretty strong humanitarian values they stick by, these natives have no problem with telling people their opinion on any given situation and they really don’t care what you have to say about it 😆

✶ Aries in 12th: With Aries in the house of isolation, hidden endings, mental health, dreams and subconscious awareness- this can make a native who suppresses their anger deeply and keeps a lot of their authentic reactions to themselves. They may feel more comfortable expressing this rage internally or when they know nobody else is around. They may be completely out of touch with their anger and impulses. They could have to isolate before taking action towards their authentic desires or dreams. Dreams can be violent and they may have intense nightmares. These natives can work out their best alone- although they usually like to workout with someone, this keeps them from pushing themselves for fear of being ugly or vulnerable. They don’t like to show their struggle to others, complain or their authentic side.

Happy Aries Season Everyone! I hope you are all safe and navigating eclipse season /mercury retrograde with ease. I am making a series out of the signs in the houses. I hope y’all are enjoying my content! Love you and thank you so much for reading my content and giving me feedback. This is such a sacred study to me. It is my life.

~Kya