#its so strong and intense i loved every second of it

[tylenolnighttime]

Omg I just had the hottest thing happen to me.

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; Couldn't wait, I had to post it lol. I hope you'll like it. Sorry for any typos. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉) Don't forget to leave a comment.

Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 2.417K

Chapter 3

Chapter Two ‘’Forcibles’’

The boy with pure eyes had grown into a tall muscular man with menace in his orbits. ‘’May I?’’ he asked not leaving his gaze from Pyramus, it wasn’t a request, it was an order and Pyramus who was coming from a small house couldn’t say no. Without a word he let go of Y/N, she felt empty. She was about to object, maybe excuse herself to rest but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen acted quickly, like a snake he placed his hand on the small of her back and held her hand, she had no choice but to place her hand on his tense shoulder. His eyes so blue, ‘’How long has it been?’’ he asked, his boy voice was gone and classical Harkonnen tone made its home. Manly. ‘’I truly don’t remember.’’ She replied with a flat tone, couldn’t do anything but let him lead the dance. It had been only a minute and Y/N had every information she needed;

Predator

Dominant

Show off

His grip was strong, maybe he was sending a clear message to other houses. Y/N didn’t want to care but her Bene Gesserit training made it impossible not to care. ‘’You wound me.’’ He mocked. He was much taller than Pyramus. She had to look up to meet his icy blue gaze. Y/N noticed the looks they got, a Harkonnen is dancing with an Atreides…. Outrageous.

‘’I see you become a witch like your mother.’’ His tongue was a whip, was he trying to get a reaction out of her?

‘’I’ve heard you become a beast.’’ She was quick to answer, she felt the grip on her back tightened. Did she stroke a nerve? Good.

‘’If we were in Giedi Prime I would have your tongue.’’ He was amused and it made her more angry, ‘’Proves my point.’’

She noticed Irulan and Paul’s questioning look, they seemed shocked and concerned for Y/N. She gave them a small smile.

She felt like a black cobra snake swallowing her whole, Feyd-Rautha made sure to press her close to him, he wasn’t gentle like Pyramus, she looked but couldn’t see him, ‘’Looking for someone?’’ he sounded annoyed, Y/N heard how his mood changes quickly and she didn’t have time for an ugly scene. ‘’My friends. I assume you’re not familiar with the concept.’’ She thought maybe detesting Harkonnens were genetic. Feyd laughed hard which attracted stares around them, they were mostly concerned for Y/N Atreides. Up close, for a split second she saw that innocent boy but he disappeared.

The music ended and she excused herself, before she left Na-Baron grabbed her wrist, she turned in shock, what was he doing? He leaned and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, the kiss felt so soft she couldn’t believe it was coming from Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. She bowed in courtesy and got away from his grip, she could feel his icy blue orbits on her back, stabbing her.

Irulan came to chat with her, ‘’What was that about?’’ Irulan didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention but she wasn’t the only one who witnessed that. ‘’What do you mean?’’ Y/N asked drinking her champagne, cold liquid made her more relaxed, ‘’Feyd-Rautha ate you with his eyes.’’ Irulan signed with her hands, didn’t want pointy ears to hear. ‘’He is an intense man. That’s all.’’ She signed back.

The night was too long for Y/N’s liking. Since she was a lady she had to stand by her family and talk to other houses about spice, politics, etc. She needed some air.

Y/N chose a balcony at the back, front ones were occupied, she inhaled deeply, her hands on the stone railings, ‘’Here you are.’’ Pyramus’s soft voice made her calm. They hugged, he immediately tried to kiss her but Y/N had to be careful, she moved her head and Pyramus’s thin lips landed on her cheek. He huffed in annoyance, ‘’How long we have to hide in the shadows?’’ he loved to whine. ‘’Soon I shall tell my family.’’ Y/N kept mustering up her courage and loosing it the last minute. It wasn’t going to be easy. Pyramus held her hands, ‘’Be mine, they can’t say anything then.’’

‘’I’m already yours.’’ She was confused,

‘’Be mine… fully.’’ His dark eyes looking for answers. ‘’Oh,’’ Y/N understood. ‘’I don’t know. We should head back.’’ She changed the topic. Before she could leave Pyramus didn’t let go of her hands, ‘’Think about it, please.’’

Y/N Atreides could hear the whispers; ‘’Did you see?’’

‘’Poor girl.’’

‘’They seemed a perfect match, how odd.’’

‘’Na-Baron seems interested…’’

She only held her head high, pretended like she was deaf. Long night came to an end, she felt so tired running from unwanted company, the Harkonnen boy. Her father had to talk to them, Y/N managed to ignore them.

Tossing and turning in her bed with questions in her busy mind she bolted to her feet. The palace was quiet, guests were fast asleep. Y/N wanted to talk to someone, someone who would understand.. she wore her white satin robe and left her bed chamber. Her family were staying at the guest wing, she knew Paul would be awake. Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls, glowglobes were on the walls, giving a dim light to the corridors, her Bene Gesserit training made her stop, someone was following her, she calmed her mind.

‘’Why so hasty?’’ a rough voice echoed behind her back. She turned to face the owner of the voice. Feyd-Rautha.

‘’I could ask you the same thing, my Na-Baron.’’ Her heart beat got faster as he approached hands in his back. His manner was predatory, observing his prey. His tunic was thin and loose, ‘’Why are you wandering so late at night, little dove?’’ pet name made her blood rise but she had to keep her calm. ‘’I don’t see why it is-‘’ he was circling her now, ‘’your business.’’ Feyd came to stop in front of her which made her look up to meet his eyes. He liked having the height advantage, he could sense her fear, so delicious. ‘’Witches and their secrets…’’ he leaned and whispered to her face, his breath hot. Y/N wanted to run away and hide from him but something in her told her that no matter what he would find her.

‘’I’m good at revealing secrets.’’ His left hand rose, his forefinger tracing her arm covered in satin, both of them felt the electricity. His eyes travelled on her chest and find their place on her eyes again. ‘’How is Pyramus?’’

Y/N had to be extremely careful, or her house’s honor could be at stake. ‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about Na-baron.’’ Her tone flat yet Feyd noticed her posture change. As if she was going into a trial by combat. Deep down he wondered how would it feel to be loved like this, he could feel the rise of jealousy… a member of an insignificant house could achieve her love so easily? No. he would not allow it. A sinister plan ran in his dark mind.

She wanted to wipe that arrogant smile on his face, ‘’I shall bid you good night.’’ With that she headed back to her room. Whenever she wanted to open up about Pyramus something would stop her…

When the morning came with its shiny sun and fresh smell of flowers she was having breakfast with her family. Padishah Emperor Shaddam made majority of the house leave and announced that after breakfast he would announce his decision.

‘’You seem upset my love, is everything all right?’’ Duke Leto asked gently, she hadn’t touched the food on her golden plate, she looked around, no one but her family. ‘’I’m in love with someone.’’ She unraveled, feeling the years of burden leaving her delicate shoulders. Leto and Paul were smiling but her mother’s face didn’t move a muscle. ‘’Who is the lucky gentleman?’’ Leto asked, ‘’Pyramus, from house-‘’

Jessica cut her short, ‘’That house?! Have you lost your mind?’’ Jessica knew that Reverend Mother had something else planned for Y/N. Bene Gesserit has been working for this union for years. ‘’Let’s not lose our temper.’’ Leto warned Jessica with a calm tone. ‘’They are a small house, it is true. If he is good enough for my daughter he is good enough for us.’’ He finished. ‘’Excuse me.’’ Everyone thought Jessica was leaving in anger but she was about to send a message to Reverend Mother an change the whole course of Y/N’s future.

Harkonnens were having breakfast together, Feyd-Rautha was so fed up with his obese uncle’s eating that he lost his appetite. Rabban was in his normal self, quiet and tense. ‘’I wonder who will be the princess’s husband.’’ Rabban said curiously, was he hoping? Feyd-Rautha was seated away from them, watching them like a hawk. He knew well that Shaddam would never take that risk, to send his one and only daughter to the hellhole called Giedi Prime? Not in a million years. ‘’One way or another he has to satisfy us.’’ Their uncle spoke with full mouth, Feyd had to look away, he could feel his bile coming up to his throat. He drank his wine to suppress. ‘’What do you think uncle?’’ Rabban asked, he kept trying to impress their uncle and failed miserably. Baron’s fat fingers were shiny with the bacon’s juice he was eating, ‘’I believe we won’t leave until we get something.’’

Their Mentat Piter de Vrives knocked on the door and walked in, ‘’My Baron, Emperor is expecting you and your nephews to the throne room.’’

Baron laughed, ‘’We shall be there.’’

The throne room was packed with lords and ladies that remained, including Reverend Mother Helen. Y/N didn’t remember seeing her last night’s ball. Strange. Y/N Atreides and her family arrived early, Padishah Emperor Shaddam spoke with her father Duke Leto in private. Behind the golden throne there was a door which opened to a small room where Shaddam’s office took place. When Duke Leto came back his face held grim, he refused to look at anyone but the Emperor, was that resentment? Emperor was seated on his golden throne which had colorful ornaments, on his right much smaller and silver throne was placed and Irulan was sitting on it. Looking like a statue, she was a strong woman. Reverend Mother was at Shaddam’s left, whispering into his ear. She was covered in black, just like Harkonnens.

Y/N noticed how old Shaddam got, every child at one point in their lives come to the realization of their parents’ old age. Emperor was a second father to her, a sudden whip to her heart she focused her eyes on the floor to prevent herself from crying. In order to keep her racing mind busy she looked around to see the remained houses. Pyramus was right there, she waved at her and Y/N waved back. He had a colorful suit, just like his personality. Pyramus and other low class houses were on the left side of the room, other old and powerful houses were on the right. Everyone watched the way Harkonnens entered, they were the last one to arrive. Baron Vladimir was a man of show off, he loved to show his power given any chance. Baron was at the front, Rabban and Feyd following behind, when Y/N saw Feyd-Rautha, her mind immediately went to last night’s events.

‘’Does he know me and Pyramus?’’ to be the first one to reveal the secret she had to tell it to her family this morning but she wasn’t sure anymore. All day Pyramus was after her asking how they reacted, she felt overwhelmed.

She wanted to be brave so Y/N watched them stand close to Atreides, Feyd-Rautha wasn’t shy of eye contact, as usual he was wearing his black suit, with his boots he looked much taller. Y/N watched him eye her up and down, she was wearing a dark blue dress, her arms and neck covered in dark blue laces, her head was tightly rounded like a ball on her head, a thin silver tiara was placed. She kept her posture high, she wasn’t going to shrink because of a Harkonnen, even though Feyd looked as if he could disintegrate her with his shiny blue eyes.

Shaddam rose to his feet, his regal robe sweeping the floor, ‘’Thank you for waiting so patiently,’’ everyone were focused, eager to hear his decision. ‘’I have decided that it was due time to choose a life partner for my one and only daughter. After last night I have consulted my daughter Irulan and the young gentleman that I choose is,’’ Y/N could feel the tension in the room, she slightly observed the room and Shaddam’s subjects were focused on him but one person. Feyd-Rautha, his snake eyes kept finding Y/N. Why did he look like he knew something that Y/N didn’t?

‘’Paul Atreides, from house Atreides.’’ Applauses could be heard, Y/N got positive energy from them last night so she wasn’t wrong. Irulan was her sister and Paul her brother, she knew that they would make each other happy. Paul walked to princes Irulan to kiss her hand. ‘’The wedding shall happen tomorrow.’’ The applauses died down, ‘’If you have no objections or requests you may be dismissed.’’ Shaddam announced, Y/N couldn’t wait to be left alone with Irulan and listen every detail.

‘’Emperor!’’ a man’s strong voice echoed in the throne room, ‘’I have a request.’’ Y/N turned to see Feyd-Rautha leaving his spot and slowly approaching to stand in the middle of the room, ‘’Come forth young Harkonnen.’’

Y/N had a bad feeling, this whole thing look staged, she turned to see her family’s reaction. Duke Leto, again, trying so hard to avoid her, Lady Jessica smiled at her. Y/N was puzzled, ‘’This is for the best.’’ She signed to her daughter.

Feyd-Rautha did what Shaddam said, before he knelt in front of the Emperor he gave a last look to her.

‘’What is it that you request?’’ Shaddam’s calmness irritated Y/N.

‘’Since you raised her as one of your own it is best to ask your permission,’’ Feyd paused to get more reaction from his spectators, his head was down but after that pause he tilted his head and look into Shaddam’s eyes. Shaddam had never seen such power in a young boy before. Baron did a great job.

‘’I demand Lady Y/N Atreides’s hand in marriage.’’

TAG LIST;

@superchatnoir07

@mamawiggers1980

@landlockedmermaid77

@moonsoulk

@crystalskiesandcherrywine

Thank you for reading. :)

[anisdolly]

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀STRICTLY 18+.

WARNINGS: soft smut, subfem!reader x softdom!anakin, not proofread because im very lazy grrrr, breast worship (idk if its called like this i suck at explaining kinks !!!), body worship, p in v, little tease with his fingers heh.

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

yeah, fucking rough is good, but can you imagine anakin taking you as if you are the rarest jewel in the galaxy?

he would start as usual, sitting by the edge of his bed with you astride on his lap, while his hands memorized every contour of your body. his eyes, just as eager, would take in each soft whimper from your parted lips and all the shudders that only he could provide. because to him, you’d be the only woman in the galaxy, and you’d be only his. so, how could he not worship you? your form, your personality, the way you dress in the morning while he stares from his usual side of the bed. everything about you would be just so perfect to him, it makes his stomach flutter.

and the moment you lower to hump yourself against his obvious erection, anakin would stop you mid-movement by grasping your hips—ever so gently, of course—and smile lovingly. “slow, my love. i want to make love to you tonight, alright?”

just as his words ended, his strong arms would shift your position and lay you down on the sheets comfortably, and he would take a few seconds to admire the beauty beneath him as he hovers above you.

with a few kisses, he would caress your neck, then the upper swell of your right breast. his lips would travel lower, too, just to savor the beat of your pulse under the sensitive skin, while one hand would find its way to unhook your bra with the ease of familiarity.

in this world, there was nothing anakin would love more than tits—except you, of course. oh, so soft and beautiful. especially if they are yours. the moment your bra slips away, he would admire them with dilated pupils that made the blue of his gorgeous eyes almost disappear. it takes him all his might not to ravage them, suck and bite his way from one to the other.

so instead, he’d simply lick his lips before locking his gaze with yours again.

after making sure you are ready enough by simply sliding index and middle upon the dampness of your underwear, with the rare gentleness that he deserves only for you, anakin would push them aside and move his hand to unbuckle his trousers. they are everything he is patient enough to strip away from—and not even entirely, as he just pushes them just past his hips along his underwear.

and once free, his touch would be reverent as he positions himself at your entrance, pausing, giving you a chance to feel every inch of him pressing forward, slowly encased by the velvety warmth of your body. it was no less intense than when he took you roughly, however—even in the softness of lovemaking.

“is this how you imagined it, hm?” he’d whisper as his forehead lands against yours and the slightest of smiles quirks the corners of his mouth. “me worshipping—mmhm…—every inch of you…” his moans lay directly onto your lips, while gentle fingers cradle both your thighs to keep them anchored on each of his hips.

his thrusts would be ever as gentle, making sure you could hum in delight and have every inch of your silk walls given attention. the attention they deserve. you always held him so tight, squeezing almost the soul out of him. so anakin would feel like he has to take them to heart. not that it is forced or unwanted, anyway.

the sounds coming out from his throat would be extremely different, too. whimpers, whines, “i love you”s thrown here and there between one thrust and the other.

and coming to kisses, anakin would kiss you a lot. probably, the moans that he swallowed would be more than the ones lost in the air. sweet, loving, not the usual ones where the main objective was to exchange spit (mh, but those are insanely good too).

his eyes, glazed with love, would be fixated upon the circular movements of his hips that just match yours, making sure your clit is being taken care of by his lower abdomen, before trailing upwards to admire your eyes roll to the sockets as you both come undone with soft yells. and just to add, your hands, that had been caressing and tugging his hair for the entire time with love and appreciation, helped him so damn much at reaching the edge.

oh, anakin fell more and more in love with you each time. well, after all, wasn’t that what lovemaking was for?

[choerypetal]

Envy and Passion (Pt. 2) / Coriolanus Snow.

summary : this moving forward, the romantic affair of Coriolanus and you began to blossomed ever seen its first meet. with a envy for lust and power, snow is relcontless to make you officially his. with a gesture not so normal, and to perhaps have your father finally accept the two love bird's relationship.

read part one first!! : part one

english isn't my first language, so i excuse for small typo or error mistakes. ps : please don't copy my work or use it without proper credit! thank you.

Your involvement with Coriolanus Snow persisted, concealed from your father who remained oblivious to the situation. Fortunately, Snow chose to invest a significant amount of time with you in the laboratory. This arrangement included the opportunity to assist him directly under the guidance of Dr. Gaul herself. Surprisingly, it never posed a challenge for either of you. Whenever Snow felt a desire or yearned to intertwine his warm fingers with your cold skin, he didn't hesitate to express it openly, especially when you pleaded with him to do so. 

"Speak it aloud." He would insist, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the stark contrast of your dark pupils. He found this juxtaposition oddly unsettling yet captivating, especially as you exuded confidence despite the complete reversal of your family's name. Which contrasted oddly well, when you presented yourself before Snow, adopting a submissive demeanor, he ensured not to overlook it. "Say that you desire me." He commanded, and in that instant, his voice deepened. The soft gaze that he had employed earlier to pause shifted into something more intense, with his eyebrows furrowing, expressing a mix of dignity, pride, and a hunger solely for you.

Every time Snow expressed his feelings and unwavering commitment, a warmth would spread across your cheeks. "I desire you, Snow." You confessed, feeling palpitations resonating throughout your entire body, experiencing emotions previously unfamiliar to you. Despite your father's strict measures to ensure you remained free from romantic entanglements, the fear of him discovering your involvement with Snow loomed over you. Uttering Snow's name could potentially lead to punishment for both of you. However, in the present moment, neither of you cared about the potential consequences, dismissing any concerns about possible repercussions.  

Upon your confession and Snow's acceptance of your words, he reveled in the opportunity to explore every inch of your skin visible to his eyes alone. Your gentle touch on his blouse, revealing a glimpse of his chest, was met with amusement as you feigned clumsiness, as if he hadn't witnessed it before. Chuckling at your playful act, he remarked. "You know, if you were eager to see me shirtless, you could have asked from the very beginning." Despite the confidence instilled by your father, your shyness intrigued Snow. It fascinated him to witness a strong, independent woman like yourself, who, despite her confidence, found herself pleading at his mercy. And he wasn't complaining one bit. 

"All I want is to wait for the perfect moment." Was your simple declaration. Yet, Snow, with his deceptive and unconvincing response to your second confession, couldn't help but see through the charade. He knew all too well that it wasn’t just a matter of time. This realization felt somewhat absurd to him, considering that from the very start of your love affair, it was you who ensured that your skin was exposed. This time around, despite the temptation to witness another captivating display, he found himself yearning for you to admire him, to experience the same emotions he felt whenever your eyes met his. “How about we change a little bit?” 

"Change?" Your brows furrowed this time, a mix of confusion, anticipation, and eagerness, curious about what Snow had in store. After all, Snow was known for his penchant for surprises. It wasn't a coincidence that both of you were selected as Dr. Gaul's personally chosen students for her mentoring. Dr. Gaul was well aware of your relationship, and if it served to prolong the Hunger Games, she had a keen understanding of how to maintain loyalty between you and Snow. Whether the connection was romantic or not mattered little to her; as long as the two of you were working and following orders, Dr. Gaul was pleased. 

Snow reached for your fingers, and as they entwined with his, he motioned for you to sit on his lap. You complied effortlessly, well aware that whenever Snow needed a break from paperwork while maintaining focus, a call for you to be on his lap was a common occurrence. It served as a distraction, allowing him to immerse himself in the scent of your presence. Despite his internal struggle to control his obsession and resist the urge to engage in more intimate activities right there on his desk, the desire to hear your submissive murmurings and witness your eyes fixated on him alone was always tempting. However, today presented a deviation from the norm. As you settled onto his lap, his back comfortably resting against the chair, his fingers intertwined with yours, prompting to unbutton his blouse, you could only utter. "Oh..." In disbelief at his prompt actions. 

"Oops, I guess a few buttons slipped," Snow playfully admitted, revealing the subtle nature of his game. While he made it seem like his own oversight, the fact that your fingers remained intertwined with his suggested that he was not entirely innocent. It conveyed that, even if he were eager to take the blame, you were not hesitant to make his chest slightly visible. However, for Snow, it wasn't merely about a brief glimpse of his chest. He intended to shed everything – from blouse to coat – without hesitation, relishing the opportunity to hear the gasps and disapproval echoing from your own father.

A blush tinted your features, the same blush that had adorned your face during the reaping ceremony. It was a blush Snow relished, a sign that he was gaining complete control over you. Without hesitation, he took it upon himself to unbutton his entire blouse with a single hand. "It's getting a little hot, isn't it?" He casually remarked, using it as an excuse and subtly suggesting you might want to do the same if it pleased you. However, you resisted the urge to swiftly follow suit, observing as Snow confidently removed both his blouse and coat in one fluid motion. As you could’ve sworn to feel your teeth sinking the bottom of your lip. The tension between the two of you became apparent now. He wanted you. And you wanted him. 

Before he proceeded, his fingers gently disentangled from yours, trailing along your thighs as your short skirt revealed more skin, much to his satisfaction. He couldn't resist brushing it against your lips, a desire he had been suppressing since he first laid eyes on you that morning. With genuine affection, he admired the skirt he loved so much, especially paired with the Academy's uniform blouse you had deliberately made a little looser this time. He took notice when he observed your cleavage being more pronounced that very same day. 

"You can't fathom how much I've yearned to taste you. Don't pretend to be innocent, Princess. It's our little game, you know." Our Little Game. He declared, and the words echoed in your mind. However, in the midst of numerous affairs and the expression of feelings, the certainty of whether he genuinely meant it, whether his love for you was real, or if uttering your name was merely a distraction to maintain his sanity, became increasingly elusive. "Then, demonstrate your love for me.” You challenged. Without a moment's hesitation, your words caught him off guard, almost offended. "After everything I've done for you?" He countered.

You felt his lips brushed against yours, temptation of not wanting to kiss you on the spot. While you challenged him such deal, he became almost too offended by your question. Was it even obvious? Snow became a little persistent, and with his piercing blue eyes never leaving it’s gaze now his eyes began darker. Darker as his gaze became aware of his need for you. A need of you becoming his officially. And today, it was one of the few occasions he could at least do. “I will.” 

His fingers delicately cradled your face, exhibiting a hunger to explore and savor every inch of your skin exclusively reserved for him. Starting with your lips, he pressed his plump lips against yours, reveling in the intoxicating taste of your cherry balm that drove him to the brink of insanity. This obsession was so profound that whenever he encountered a blossoming Cherry Tree, it inevitably reminded him of you. Not stopping there, he proceeded to confidently grip your backside, causing your loose skirt to flutter up. The chill from the brisk lab air made you flinch in response to the sudden exposure.  

"Mine. Mine." His voice grew rougher, a tone that required a certain adaptation on your part. Your head tilted backward as you felt his lips trail down the crook of your neck, an area he longed to adorn with endless pampering and marks that, at least, could be concealed. Today, however, he made sure they were visible, intended to stoke the fires of your father's entire disdain. "Mine until the break of dawn." He declared, feeling the friction between cloth and underwear intensify, causing his arousal to surge. Snow could no longer contain himself when your soft fingers journeyed from his immaculate chest to the zipper of his pants. In a mere second, as you unzipped them, you teasingly grasped his now fully erect member and gently stroked it, bringing him undeniable pleasure. 

"If you truly mean it." You approached him with a hint of seduction, taking control of the situation. In this game of chess, Snow had anticipated that one day the tables would turn, and today seemed to be that day. "Make love to me like you've never done before. Make me moan until the sounds echo through the entire lab, risking the chance of getting caught." To Snow's surprise, he tilted his head upon hearing your bold words, realizing that the desire you expressed mirrored his own. This opportunity was rare, the only time both of you could be together. If it wasn't for your father's protection; you would feel ashamed if he were to catch a glimpse of the two of you right now. Yet, love has a way of blinding reason. 

“And make your father know, to who you belong to. Princess.” He lingered with a loving and lust of wanted to fuck you. This time although he enjoyed a quickie, he wanted to make it an experience for you, whether it was sloppy or messy. It did not mattered for the both of you, as long as Snow showed and declared his entire love for you. It was all it mattered. 

After the surprisingly enjoyable encounter, you suddenly realized the time and the fact that you had completely forgotten about a meeting with Dr. Gaul and your father regarding the Hunger Games. You began to panic. "Shit, I'm going to be late!" You exclaimed, and Snow found it oddly cute, especially since you rarely used such language in public. "Don't forget this." Even though Snow was well aware of what he was doing, you hastily grabbed anything resembling a uniform. As long as you had your skirt back on, along with the coat and blouse, it should be enough to avoid arousing suspicion. Thankfully, with your hair strategically covering the hickeys, you managed to arrive late to the meeting, running at full speed without raising any eyebrows.

Upon finally arriving, you seized the chance to catch your breath, fortunate that your father and everyone else attending the meeting were engrossed in Dr. Gaul's presentation. However, upon laying eyes on you, she couldn't help but voice concern about your uniform. "Y/N, my dear. What is this monstrosity?" Swiftly, your father's gaze shifted to you, taking note of the alteration in your uniform. The blouse, that delicately hugging your curves, now appeared slightly larger, evident in your fingers poking through its sleeves. It became glaringly obvious that it wasn't yours but Snow's. You found yourself in a deeper mess. Vaguely recalling seeing Snow casually blending his blouse with yours before leaving, you realized it was another way for him to mark you as his own—a subtle yet effective gesture, particularly if it meant provoking your father into a boiling rage. 

"And where might Snow be? He was supposed to be invited to this meeting as well," Dr. Gaul expressed her suspicion. Although you attempted to ignore your father's disapproving gaze, well aware of his concerns and mentoring about his feelings regarding Snow, you were preoccupied by Snow's unexpected actions. You weren't certain if he was indeed coming or intentionally delaying his arrival to avoid raising suspicion, only to later excuse himself for being late and have Dr. Gaul overlook his absence. “I didn’t know Snow was invited for today’s meeting…” Was all you could say, which wasn’t entirely false. 

Dismissing her concern for Snow, she accepted your response. Despite being already aware of the possible relationship between the two of you, she simply smiled at you and suggested you join the audience. As you took a seat next to your father, he noticed your arrival. Quite annoyed at least. “Next time, try to cover the marks in your neck. For the love of god, Y/N.” Shit, your father had spot Snow’s hickeys. If it wasn’t to make it worse even noticed the slight change in your cheeks as it was still showing a flushed and pink shade from the climax you had encountered prior with Snow. Instead to not disrupt any further you obliged and apologize like the good daughter you were meant to be. “It will never happen again, I promise.” But did you? 

As anticipated, Snow arrived late. Fortunately, he had the foresight to bring an extra blouse, fully intending to have you wear one of his. The expression on your father's face when he noticed the unconventional attire was exactly what Snow had anticipated. Doing his best to catch his breath after rushing to the meeting, he excused himself, saying, "Sorry, I am late." Dr. Gaul acknowledged his presence and gestured for him to sit next to you. A proud smile adorned Snow's face as he witnessed the exact expression he had expected from your father.

“Loving the uniform, sweetheart.” He casually said, whispering to your ear this time before quickly gaining his attention back to him but also making sure that you were aware of his meschibiosu little guess. 

"Shut up, Snow." He hoped to hear from you as you were about to speak up. Instead, it was your father's voice that uttered those words upon realizing that it wasn't, in fact, your uniform all this time but Snow's. Anticipating a response from you after your father's remark, Snow waited, but instead, Casca continued. "Just be a little more secretive next time." 

To your surprise, you glanced over at your father, intending to defend yourself. However, a mere gaze from him conveyed the unspoken message that if you attempted to object, he would ensure an end to the relationship. Despite his unwillingness to witness his daughter's unhappiness due to her father's unwarranted bias against the Snow family, he held on to the hope that, at the very least, Coriolanus Snow wasn't akin to his own father. Or... was your father not entirely wrong?

"We will." 

Snow's voice lingered in the crook of your neck, indicating his satisfaction with your father's newfound approval of the relationship. Finally, he felt unburdened, no longer afraid to proudly show the world that you were his and his alone.

[aikaterini-drag]

All-consuming Love

Summary: Bucky Barnes loves you more than anything in the world, but your love for him is just as intense. The question of who loves the other more becomes a delightful, unending exchange of devotion between two hearts intertwined.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: implied smut, boyfriend Bucky, fluff, softness, intimacy.

In the soft, dim light of your bedroom, you and Bucky were wrapped in an intimate embrace, nestled cozily in your bed. The world outside had faded, leaving only the two of you in your private sanctuary. You had made love, twice, that night. The first time, he had rained kisses all over your skin before taking your under him, reaching deep into your heart. The second time, you rolled on top, your eager hands exploring every inch of his hard body while you drove him mad with your perfect wiggling motions.

In the end you were both spent and blissfully content.

As your cuddled, your bodies molded perfectly together, Bucky’s each contour fitting to your curves like pieces of a puzzle. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your cheek and the synchronized rhythm of your breaths, a harmonious melody that played beneath the covers.

His strong arms enveloped you, providing a sense of protection and warmth that melted your worries away. With your head resting gently on his chest, you placed your ear over his heart, listening to the reassuring, steady beat that mirrored his unwavering affection.

Your fingers intertwined, your hands clasped. He always offered you his good arm. But you shifted slightly and caressed the metal one as well, tenderly tracing its ridges and cool smoothness. You loved everything that made him. And this was you showing your love, in an unspoken conversation in which every caress, every stroke, whispered devotion and desire.

With his eyes tender with adoration, he looked deeply into your eyes and said, "You know, I love you more than anything in this world."

You smiled, your eyes gleaming with joy. "That's sweet Sergeant, but I love you more."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "You think so, sweetheart? Well, I love you more than all the stars in the sky."

You leaned in closer, your voice filled with conviction. "And I love you more than the entire universe."

He laughed and pressed wet kisses all over your face which caused you to giggle softly. “I love you like crazy, like absolute crazy!”

You grinned, your fingers tracing a delicate path along his cheek. "I love you more than anyone has ever loved another."

He let out a soft breath, his eyes locked onto you. "You are spoiling my confession, young lady.”

“Why so? Can’t a woman indulge the man she loves?” You placed gentle pecks along his jawline, your lips igniting tingles with every touch.

“Sure you can,” he said, his voice deep. “But I have to do the same. You’re my precious sweetness. I love you more than anyone ever thought they could love another human being. You’re my everything.”

“There you go again! Very well, I will accept your words, Mr. Barnes,” you said, your lips brushing against the curve of his cheekbone. “Thank you, my love. You are the sweetest, most caring man in the world.”

Your love was boundless and no matter who loved whom more, your hearts were forever intertwined in a deep and enduring connection.

He responded with a trail of kisses, starting with your eyelids, then moving down to your nose, and finally capturing your lips. The passionate exchange deepened, your connection intensifying as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensations, becoming lost in each other's embrace for the third time that night.

[fraux140]

König Headcanons

General, relationship, and NSFW. I hope you enjoy these! It's my first real post :)

General hcs

Had a cleft lip as a child and was part of the reason he was bullied. It was surgically repaired but there is still a scar

One of his parents is German and the other is Austrian which might explain why he has no Austrian dialect (lets pretend this is canon instead of activision just clumping all German speakers into one category lmao)

He has auburn hair but buzzes it so often that its hard to tell

LOVES Minecraft. He plays creative mode when he's trying to make masterpieces like city replicas or fantasy worlds, but loves the challenge of survival mode if he's playing with friends.

He was a total mama's boy as a kid. When his father tried to get him to 'man up' his mother was always there to protect him. Another reason he was bullied.

Chronic mansplainer but its unintentional. If you're discussing a topic he knows a lot about he will hijack the conversation and unload a bunch of info to you. He doesn't mean it maliciously.

Undiagnosed ADHD - explains why he has trouble staying still and was a bad candidate for being a sniper. But it isn't so bad that it is noticeable. He can mask it when he needs to.

Again with the ADHD thing. He hyperfixates on topics he finds interesting and even his job. Mission plan is memorised. Terrain? Memorised. Enemy info? Memorised. The ever-changing locations and nature of his job mean that he doesn't have to worry about succumbing to the boredom of monotony.

When he isn't deployed he is a beer drinker - particularly Stiegl Hell. A total beer snob as well. Any kind of American beer? Throw it away. Carling? Fosters? Sagres? Get that second rate crap away from him and prepare to be mansplained about how much better Austrian/German beer is than any other.

Has an apartment in the same neighbourhood as his parents' house so he can visit a lot when he's not deployed. His apartment is very basic and he stays there so his parents have their privacy. Their house is his home.

His mother is a seamstress and his father was a mechanic in the army. This man knows how to sew and how to keep his car healthy.

Unironically reposts alpha male quotes - not because he's a misogynist but because he genuinely believes he is the definition of an alpha male.

Teeny tiny bit of a superiority complex. Arrogant af. Stems from his size, strength, and skills. Finished Jagkdo selection second in his 'class'. It haunts him every day. Second place is the first to lose.

Is a genuinely unsettling guy. Not in a creepy way. He kind of just stands around and stares when he enters a place before deciding what to do. For example at the pub, he walks in and stares at the bar before deciding where to sit. Or if he sees somebody new, like somebody he thinks is particularly weird or someone attractive he will stare at them. It is a bit more intense than the typical 'German stare', and more off-putting because of his size.

Relationship hcs

If you're dating König, the first stages of your relationship will be spent trying to figure out how to be comfortable.

Like I said before, he is unsettling and might say something as such, coming across a bit too strong.

For example, if someone is annoying you at work he might offer to kill them. "I could hide the body no problem, schatz. Just ask." And he is very hard to read, so you can't tell if he's joking or not.

If his weirdness didn't scare you away and your relationship progresses, he unintentionally tries to manage you.

Packing a suitcase? You're doing it wrong. It's more efficient to fold the clothes like this to maximise space. Want to go for a walk? Not in those shoes. Function trumps fashion every time. Ordering at a foreign food restaurant? Let him do it for you, you're probably pronouncing it wrong. He's your passenger? You had time to pull out, liebling! Go for the overtake! Change lanes! Ffs schatzi, pull over and let him take the wheel.

Unintentionally condescending. You worked really hard on a new recipe? It's good, but he's had better at this restaurant. He recommends adding this and that...

You're complaining about how stressful your job is? Babe, you wouldn't know stress if it hit you in the face. Have YOU ever been shot at? Narrowly dodged an explosion? Being chased by enemies who are actively trying to kill you? Yeah, didn't think so...

Eventually it gets too much. You're on the verge of breaking up with him because he makes you feel like crap. He diminishes your achievements. Undermines your emotions. It's too much and being with him is making you hate yourself. And you don't deserve to feel this way.

After you tell him, he is mortified. He didn't think that his matter-of-fact way of speaking could be so mean and make you feel this way. He's so sorry, baby. Give him another chance? He'll show you how special you are to him!

After you forgive him and he agrees to change, life is much better. He gives more compliments, he listens more attentively and he tries to be more emotional instead of 'logical'. He comes to respect that you can feel a certain way about things happening in your life and doesn't have to compare it to himself.

He takes you hiking very often. So often that your legs are noticeably more toned. He buys you all of the expensive gear you need to hike in any terrain.

Sometimes sews little trinkets for you or embroiders something on your clothes - a skill he picked up from his seamstress mother.

When you tell him his alpha male quote sharing is cringe and makes him seem like an asshole, he begins to question how you see him. Don't you see how big and strong he is, baby?

When he finally gets it, he slowly starts to lose the façade. This front he puts up? It starts to come down. You want to be the big spoon? Go right ahead.

The new König loves to be doted on. Rub his belly. Run your hands through his hair/over his head if he's buzzed. Hug him. Cuddle with him on the couch. Tell him how big and strong he is - he eats it right up.

Loves working out with you. He likes showing you he's strong enough to protect you. Sit on his back while he doe push-ups. See? No problem. Look at how much weight is on this barbell! He can lift it no problem.

You told him that he can't live on ordering food from fancy restaurants every night. He needs to learn to cook. He's annoyed at first because he can afford it for both of you, but you make him learn how to cook. This time learning together in the kitchen brings you closer together. There is something beautiful about working so hard on a meal and enjoying the results together.

Sometimes he wants to surprise you when you come back from work with a new dish he'd invented. Wagyu steaks sautéed in lager and seasoned with rosemary and turmeric. It was disgusting. You couldn't find it within yourself to tell him.

NSFW hcs

When he was insecure and in his 'alpha male' stage, he was a total dom. Not that you didn't enjoy it.

Now that he's grown, he still loves fucking you in doggy or missionary or any position where he's in control. But now he'll let you ride him for as long as you want.

He LOVES laying back and watching you use his dick to get yourself off. Another reason he loves cowgirl is because he loves watching you struggle with the initial stretch of sinking onto his fat cock.

You tried to convince him to let you peg him once. He outright refused. Maybe he wasn't there yet.

Call him dirty all you want, he loves fucking you after you have worked out together. And you don't mind it either. Seeing him all hot and bothered and out of breath is a huge turn on for you.

Can be aggressive. He likes biting you but not to the point it draws blood.

Sends absolutely horrendous nudes when you're in public with no warning when he's deployed. You'll get a whatsapp notification and you open it to see a picture of his raging hard on while you're at work.

He gets creative with the angles. He tries different lighting. In a strange way you found it very romantic. His captions are atrocious though. 'He misses you', 'I wish I could shoot my sperms into you instead of bullets into my enemies', 'My cock is harder than my job'. They are honestly so fucking weird. But you have grown to love his weird little quips.

Likes roleplay. He likes to be a policeman while you're a petty thief. He's a burglar and he'll leave you alone if you give him something else.

Loves overpowering you. Sometimes when he's fresh home from deployment he will drive you two to the woods at night. He will give you a head start and then hunt you down like a predator. He was in the jagdkommando, darling, didn't you know that means 'Hunting commando'?

When he catches you, the adrenaline gets to the both of you and you fuck like wild animals. Biting, scratching, howling and begging. He always cums inside of you on nights like these, breeding you like a true animal

When you get home and after you've showered (he washes your back for you and kisses along the nape of your neck), he's showering you with kisses and cuddles while you settle into bed and watch something together on TV.

[ahqkas]

A funny little request of gf!reader who had a lot of brothers so she always had gotten into play fights with them. Soon into the future mattheo challenged her to an arm wrestle only to be completely stumped at her beating him.

STRONGER THAN ALL MY MEN ; mattheo riddle

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

GROWING UP IN A HOUSE FULL OF BROTHERS, YOU HAD ALWAYS BEEN BROUGHT INTO A WORLD OF PLAYFUL ROUGHHOUSING AND FRIENDLY COMPETITIONS. You were no stranger to the feel of a playful punch, the exhilaration of a well-executed tackle, or the strategic maneuvering needed to win an important wrestling match. It was in this home that you had gotten your strength and resilience, learning to hold your own and even come out on top more often than not. Your brothers had instilled in you a sense of fierce competitiveness, one that you carried into every aspect of your life.

So when Mattheo, with his cocky grin and challenging eyes, proposed an arm-wrestling match, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. You had grown to love Mattheo's confidence and his restless spirit, but this was an arena where you felt particularly confident. You accepted his challenge with a smirk, a glint of determination in your eyes.

The two of you found a sturdy table in the common room, drawing the curious gazes of a few fellow students. Mattheo rolled up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms, and settled into his chair, his expression one of easy confidence. You took your seat opposite him, rolling up your own sleeves and revealing arms that, while not as bulky, were lean and defined from years of spirited competition with your brothers.

"Ready to be beaten by a girl?" you teased, arching an eyebrow as you clasped his hand.

"We'll see about that," Mattheo shot back, his grin widening. His eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was also a flicker of genuine curiosity. He was used to being strong, to winning physical fights with ease. The thought of you beating him was both surprising and strangely thrilling.

Lorenzo, who had been observing the scene from a distance, decided to take on the role of referee. With a dramatic flourish, he placed his hands on top of yours and Mattheo's clasped hands, looking between the two of you with a twinkle in his eye. "On my count," he announced. "Three, two, one . . . go!"

The initial push was intense. Mattheo's strength was evident, his muscles tensing as he applied pressure. But you met his force with equal determination, your grip steady and your arm unwavering. The crowd around you leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation.

As the seconds ticked by, it became clear that this was not going to be an easy win for Mattheo. His brow furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. You could feel his surprise through the subtle shifts in his grip, the way his eyes flicked to yours, searching for some sign of strain. But you held his gaze steadily, your arm a pillar of strength.

Gradually, you began to gain the upper hand. It was a slow, inexorable push, your arm moving inch by inch as you leveraged the years of playful battles with your brothers. The crowd around you erupted in cheers and gasps as you edged closer to victory. Mattheo's expression shifted from confident to incredulous, then to something close to admiration.

With one final, decisive push, you slammed his hand down onto the table. The room exploded in applause and laughter, the sound reverberating off the stone walls. Mattheo stared at his defeated hand for a moment, then looked up at you with a mixture of shock and respect.

"You . . . you actually beat me," he said, a grin breaking across his face.

"I told you," you replied, your own grin widening. "Growing up with a bunch of brothers has its advantages."

Mattheo shook his head, still smiling. "You're incredible, you know that?"

You shrugged playfully, though you couldn't hide the pride in your eyes. "Just don't forget it next time you decide to challenge me."

He reached across the table and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I won't. And I have to admit, I kind of like this side of you."

As the crowd began to disperse, leaving the two of you alone at the table, you felt a warmth spread through you. It wasn't just the victory that made you feel good; it was the way Mattheo looked at you, with genuine admiration and love.

[pinkflower2003]

celebrating charles win please

Charles Leclerc x reader blurb

a/n: thank you for your submission!! i’m so happy for Charles😭 i made this a little smaller than usual but hope its okay!<3

my request link - Berry Answers🍓

The air is electric with excitement and celebration, the echoes of cheering fans still resonating through the streets. Charles Leclerc, the hometown hero, has just won the Monaco Grand Prix, and the thrill of his victory is palpable.

As soon as he steps out of his car, his face still glistening with sweat and the unmistakable glow of triumph, you can't contain your excitement any longer. You break into a run, your heart pounding in time with the chants of the crowd. The moment Charles spots you, his face lights up with a joy that mirrors your own. Without a second thought, you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he catches you effortlessly, his strong arms securing you against him.

The world seems to pause for a heartbeat as you press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, the roar of the crowd and the flash of cameras all around you fading into the background. The taste of victory mingles with the sweetness of the moment, the sheer euphoria of his win making everything else seem insignificant. His lips are demanding against yours, a raw intensity in the way he kisses you, as if he’s pouring all the adrenaline and emotion from the race into this single, electrifying moment.

Charles holds you tightly, his hands gripping your back and sliding lower, resting just above the curve of your ass. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the firmness of his chest against yours, the hard planes of his muscles still taut from the race. When you finally pull away, breathless and smiling, you rest your forehead against his, the two of you lost in each other's eyes.

"You did it, Charles," you whisper, your voice trembling with pride and love. "You won."

He grins, his eyes shining with triumph and adoration. "We won," he corrects, his voice husky and filled with emotion. "I couldn't have done it without you."

As the cameras capture every second of your intimate moment, the crowd erupts into cheers once more, the energy of the celebration sweeping over you both. His hands shift slightly, fingers pressing into your flesh, making your heart race even faster. You can feel his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, "I want you, right now."

The raw desire in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You glance around, the crowd still cheering, but in that moment, it’s as if you and Charles are the only two people in the world. You press another kiss to his lips, this one softer but no less intense, a promise of what’s to come.

He sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your hips, and you both share a look that speaks volumes. "Let's get out of here," you murmur, your voice low and filled with anticipation.

Charles nods, his smile turning wicked as he takes your hand, leading you through the crowd. The two of you slip away to a more secluded spot, the noise of the celebration fading into the background. The moment you're alone, he pulls you into a hidden alcove, his hands immediately roaming your body, exploring every curve and dip with a hunger that matches your own.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you kiss him again, harder this time, your bodies pressed so close together you can feel every beat of his heart. The thrill of his victory, the passion between you, it all melds into one heady rush of sensation.

As the golden light of the Monaco sunset bathes you in its glow, you pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands. "Your dad would be so proud of you, Charles," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "I know he's watching over you, and he's incredibly proud of everything you've accomplished."

Charles's eyes soften, tears welling up as he leans his forehead against yours. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice breaking slightly. "That means everything to me."

You press a gentle kiss to his lips, the moment tender and filled with love. "You're amazing, Charles. You've made him, and everyone else, so proud."

With those words, Charles holds you even tighter, his heart full. The victory, the love, and the promise of a future together—it's all wrapped up in this perfect moment. And as long as you're together, every second will be filled with the same intense passion and unwavering love.

[mothwingwritings]

C and F for my boy Pickle

Eyyy sorry for the delay! (Yes I am still working on these!!!) Here is some Pickle goodness for you my dear.~<3

WARNINGS: Sex and violence and one love sick feral man.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Pickle would honestly treat you as nicely as he is able too. His living environment has its limitations, but he does everything he can to make it comfortable and inviting for you, adamant about making it a home that is fitting of his mate.

Once you are safely stashed away in his secret abode he sets to work constructing you a nest of things so that you may find pinnacle contentment in your new home. He’s gathered an amalgamation of the softest blankets, clothes, linen, etc. that has been given to him or that he has scavenged, so that you may rest in peace and luxury while in his presence. He also brings you the best cuts of meat after his hunts, though he caught on quickly that you were apt to turn your nose at his bloody, raw offering (he couldn’t quite understand why, he was sure you would love it if you just gave it a chance). Once he picks up on your distaste, he instead begins to hoard ingredients and snacks he steals picks up out in the world, supplying you all manner of foodstuff till he pins down the ones you like.

While Pickle prefers you in your natural state, he understands your body needs protection from the elements. He doesn’t quite get modern fashion, but you seem sad wearing the same thing over and over again. While he’s out he procures a hodge-podge of varying clothing, presenting it to you by dumping it at your feet, a huge dopey grin on his face. He loves seeing you in the clothing he gifts you, you look so beautiful in each and every piece that he can’t help but stare, holding back the urge to rip it right back off and have his way with you.

Pickle won’t mock you and wouldn’t dream of disrespecting you in anyway. Any harm he causes you is either completely unintentional or for your own good. He loses control of himself sometimes, forgetting his own strength. You are just so small and he loves you so much, it’s hard to hold himself back. He hates using his strength against you to prove a point, but if you remain insistent on trying to escape him he will do what he must to protect you. You are HIS mate and HE’S the only one who can take care of you. All that’s waiting for you in this strange new world is danger, so if you won’t stay by his side willingly, he will force you there.

All that said, while you may be relatively safe from Pickle’s more violent tendencies, anyone else most certainly is NOT. If another person approaches you, threatens you, or tries to take you away from him they will be obliterated, decimated, ripped to shreds, torn apart until nothing is left. He’ll bask in the gruesome slaughter, their end another validation that he is the best one for you, the one who loves and can protect you above all others. Doesn’t matter if that person is a stranger or your own mother-he is all you need, anyone else butting in is an unnecessary threat.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would find it incredibly charming if you tried to fight him. Pickle doesn’t see it as an act of aggression at all, but views it as you trying to mimic him as a sign of reverence. You think he is so impressive and strong that you strive to be like him, going so far as to challenge him to a fight. It’s adorable, and he can’t help but break out into a huge toothy grin when he sees you assume a fighting stance.

And it excites him- seeing you tense up, clenching your fists and bending your knees, preparing to strike at a moment’s notice. Seconds before the fray, you stare him down with such intensity, sizing him up and calculating what moves you should make against him, gears turning in your head as you focus wholly on him. The fixation on him sends a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He is the only one you are thinking of in that moment, and in turn you are all that is occupying his thoughts.

Your strikes never hurt him and he can tell how much that frustrates you. He’ll play along sometimes to make you happy, yowling like a mother lioness that is being batted by her cub. He’ll cringe at your punch, shy away from your kick. If he’s convincing enough, you sometimes award him with a small smile, a brief look of accomplishment. It warms his heart, knowing you are having as good of a time as he is.

He also relishes the closeness the two of you share when you initiate these little fights. Usually you try and hide away from him, distancing yourself as much as possible whenever he is in the vicinity. At first he thought it was another game you were trying to play with him, something coy, cute, and seductive to grab his attention. But when the chase became a regular thing he was disappointed, why did you put up such a fuss each time your mate tried to approach you? You didn’t even give him a prize when he finally caught you, just flailing and screaming and spitting. It hurt his feelings- this was supposed to be fun.

But the little brawls you had were fun, and they gave him a chance to have you near him without any to-do. He could feel your skin on his, smell your sweat as your body writhed and wriggled against his. Feeling your small hands grab at his hulking form, listening to your strained moans and heavy breathing as you threw your all into attacking him… Witnessing you in such a state, holding you close as your body rubbed his in just the right way, it doesn’t take long for him to completely lose control.

Before you can recognize what is going on, your body is sheathing his cock, previous grunts of exertion quickly turning into wails of pleasure.

He doesn’t understand why you cry so much afterwards, though. Were you not having as much fun as he was? You initiated the fight, why are you so upset at the outcome? It was a good tussle, and judging by the noises you were making, he was able to make you feel good. Even if you struggled a bit when he was trying to enter you, you always end up yielding to him. The fit is tight, and there have been several times he was afraid he would outright break you when he pushed deeper, pressing into your core.  But the pleasure that courses through him as he bottoms out is indescribable. He loses himself in the feel of you surrounding him, completely consumed by the euphoria your body has supplied him.

You are his perfect mate, his brave little warrior, and his love for you is endless. So don’t cry, OK? Maybe next time he’ll let you really ‘win.’ :)

[bits-and-babs]

i’m so sorry for your loss. i hope you’ve received a lot of requests though and are managing to stay distracted 💛

could i please request some soft period sex with din djarin? i’ve been loving your din fics lately and there really aren’t enough people out there writing for him, so thank you for doing god’s work!!

𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

» PAIRING : The Mandalorian x f! Reader

» CONTENTS : established fwb relationship, feeeelinggggs, period sex (duh), p in v sex, he talks you through it, cream pie (must I say it again, *wrap it kids*). He removes the helmet but you don’t see his face. Romantic as Mando can get. 18+, kiddos.

» AUTHORS NOTE : thank you for your condolences sweet pea. I’m doing much better with all these asks to work through!

» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here

“You’re in pain.”

For a man that doesn’t like droids, the voice that floats through The Mandalorians modulator sure sounds droid-esque. His tone is flat, devoid of emotion as he tries to ascertain the reason for your scrunched-up brows.

“I’m fine,” you dismiss awkwardly. The Mandalorian would have to set you alight with his flamethrower vambrace if he wanted to pry the information out of you.

Your period has started, settling a creeping pain across your lower back that kicks into what you can only describe as cramp-hyperspace. You’re both irritable and needy simultaneously, desperate for his attention yet frustrated by his presence all at once. Besides, you couldn’t call what you and The Mandalorian had a ‘relationship’. Sharing a cot every once in a while to ease the frustration built in a tin can in hyperspace wasn’t exactly marriage, was it?

A leather-clad hand gently finds its way onto the small of your back, rubbing slowly against the tight muscles there and soothing the ache that’s so intense it feels like it may pull away the flesh from your spine.

“I heard…” The Mandalorian hesitates for a moment, a twang of nervousness sounding from the tip of his tongue. “I heard that release is… is good for the pain.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach when his visor tilts to you, taking in your expression. His hand slides along the curve of your ass ever so gently, a ghost of a touch that feels more likely to be a figment of the force than something the big, burly Mandalorian could muster.

“Mando-“

He’s on you in a second, grabbing underneath your ass and hoisting you upwards in a strong lift that makes your head spin. You push your forehead to the smooth, cold metal of his helmet as he struggles to pull your pants down. He doesn’t get them past your knees, pushing your back against the wall and groaning as he works at his flight suit.

“I-I’m bleeding, Man-“

“I don’t care,” he rasps, voice dripping with arousal as he pulls his cock out from his pants. You can hear him work at it for a moment, his breath picking up as you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you- if that’s what you need- stars- I’ll give it to you, pretty baby, give you anything you need.”

He’s babbling, pushing your panties to the side and swiping his gloved fingers through your folds until the leather catches on your clit. You gasp loudly, the slight friction enough for your hips to jump off the wall.

Mando doesn’t hesitate, lining the head of his cock against your entrance before pushing into you with such ease. You take him so well, your body desperate to be filled by him that it offers no resistance at all. A groan tears from his throat like someone had punched him straight in the gut, wheezing slightly when he feels the head of his dick bitch against your cervix.

It should hurt, and it does, but stars, it feels so good, too. Your back is arching against the cool durasteel, tears welling in your eyes as he rolls his hips impossibly deeper. The coarse hair on his pubic bone grinds just right against your clit, and your walls clamp around his cock while you whine out his name.

“I know, Baby Girl, I know,” he breathes, his hips starting a languid, steady pace that has you digging your fingernails into the pauldrons on his shoulders. It stretches you out just right, your hips raising to meet each thrust as you sigh out his name in what could only be described as some kind of prayer.

“MmmMando,” you moan, head tilting back until your crown hits the wall behind you. Eyes cast to the heavens, they tear up as tendrils of pleasure work their way up your spine, Mando’s hips already working you towards bliss in a way only he could.

“Close your eyes, Pretty Baby,” you hear him groan, his voice gravelly. You do so without question, eyelids heavy already with the intensity of the pleasure building between your thighs.

There’s a shift, a mumble of ‘keep ‘em closed’ that sounds too loud to be him, and then his lips are on your neck. Nando’s lips are on your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin as he ruts into you at a blinding pace.

“Ohmy- Mando-“ you choke out, tears streaming down your cheeks at the overwhelming rush of adrenaline, of emotions. The coarse hair of a trimmed beard you didn’t know he had bristles your skin, and he whispers a moan against the junction of your shoulder.

“Fuck, Baby,” he chokes out, his hand gripping at the flesh just beneath the curve of your ass where he holds you up. “So fucking wet, so tight for me, Baby. That’s it, I know, I know, I can feel it-“

You’re arching into him, moaning louder. The sound of your keens bounces off the walls of the hanger, ricocheting back into your ears as you feel your orgasm work its claws into your abdomen.

“I’ve got you,” Mando soothes you, even with the strain in his voice, “I’ve got you, m’here.”

It sends you dropping through space, plummeting past the stars and the planets as he hits something vital inside you. You’re cumming, bliss spilling through your body and momentarily blinding you as everything blurs before your eyes. It roils through you, tears you apart at the seams like you’ve been stretched and ripped open in the best way.

You must be screaming, must be wailing and sobbing his name, because Mando is offering you a chorus of ‘I know I know I know’. You’re so tight around him, gushing on his cock and his hips stutter, spitting out your name against the column of your throat in a voice that’s unmodulated and crystal clear as he cums, filling you up when he spills inside of you.

You’re both panting heavily, legs like jelly and bodies buzzing with a burning afterglow that could compete with the twin suns of Tatooine.

“M-Must have made a mess,” you whimper, voice cracking. Your eyes stay firmly shut, even when you hear him chuckle and feel him press a kiss to your jaw.

“That’s what a shower is for, isn’t it?”

You share the shower, share a cot in your moments of frustration on this tin can in hyperspace. Mando takes his helmet off for you, kissing and whispering utter bantha-shite while he smoothes your discomfort… Maybe it is a marriage proposal, after all.

[prettyforwoso]

Lay Back Baby

Lucy Bonze x Ona Batlle smut

Summary: Ona is staying home from training with the cold, yearning for Lucy's touch, she pushes the the whole day without, the second Lucy gets home, she knows what she needs.

a/n: Based on the large amounts of requests for this one !! hope you enjoy :) requests open

Ona awoke with a heavy sense of lethargy, her body feeling like a battleground between fatigue and discomfort. The room around her was dimly lit, the soft glow of daylight filtering through the curtains casting a muted atmosphere. As she blinked away the remnants of sleep, the realization of her sickness settled in, a weight on her chest that matched the heaviness in her head.

The air in the room felt stale, and Ona's groggy mind struggled to focus. Her and Lucys room, once a haven of comfort, now seemed foreign, as if the familiar surroundings had transformed into an unfamiliar landscape in the course of her nap. She gingerly sat up, her limbs protesting with every movement, and the blankets clung to her like an extra layer of fatigue.

Ona's nose was stuffy, her throat scratchy, and a persistent ache echoed through her body. She reached for the tissue box on her bedside table, a comforting ally in the battle against her symptoms. Each tissue she pulled out seemed to absorb a small part of her misery as she blew her nose, the soft sound a pitiful reminder of her unwell state.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the outside world continued its oblivious hustle. The play of sunlight on the curtains formed patterns that danced in a rhythm detached from her own discomfort. Ona sighed, the sound a mixture of resignation and frustration, as she contemplated the tasks and responsibilities that awaited her beyond the confines of the couch.

She remembered how Lucy always took care of her when she was unwell – making tea, giving forehead touches, and saying comforting things. Ona scrolled through pictures of them together, smiling and happy. She sent Lucy a text, telling her how much she needed her right now.

Ona: missing you baby…

sent

Wrapped up in her blankets, she waited for Lucy's reply, hoping for some comfort. When Lucy's message came, it was like a virtual hug. Lucy promised to be home soon, and Ona felt a bit better just thinking about it. With the idea of Lucy's return from training in mind, Ona relaxed, knowing that love had the power to make her feel better even when she was at her sickest.

She peeled her body off the couch and headed for their bedroom, hoping to find a change of clothing, clinging to the idea that it might make a feel better to freshen up. She pulled out some sweat shorts and one of Lucys jerseys, desperate for anything from her, even just her smell.

Her legs led her to the kitchen, where she found herself making some toast, too exhausted for any sort of creativity if it included any sort of hard work.

She’s been sitting around all day, occasionally moving location to follow the days sunlight, but no amount of light would satisfy her intense craving for the touch of Lucy. Her mind wandered, the idea of Lucy laying her down and having her cum over and over, all she needed was for Lucy to be inside of her, and any kind of way, Ona was not feeling picky.

Her sudden burst of energy came when she heard Lucys keys in the front door. Her body was lifted from the bed out of excitement, her feet skidding on the floor as she ran to the door, jumping into the arms of her girl.

Lucy didn’t even have time put her stuff down, having to drop it to support Onas tiny frame, wrapped around her waist.

“Hey baby” Lucy says, gently placing her down.

“Lucy, I have missed you so much today” Ona says looking up at her, with the strong grip on the centre of Lucys shirt, scared by the idea of letting go.

Lucy leans down and presses a kiss on Onas soft lips, not worrying about getting sick, if anything, it would give them time off together.

Ona raised herself onto the tips of her toes, desperate to get the most of out Lucys mouth. She wraps an arm around her neck, pulling her closer.

“Oh, you really have missed me haven’t you little thing” Lucy says, breaking the contention.

Ona simply bites her lip in response.

“No baby, you are sick and need rest” Lucy tells Ona with the stern tone. Ona is in her lap, getting more and more needy by the second.

The pair have been on the couch simply making out for a while now, Ona in Lucys lap, as per usual, desperately grinding small on the tiny seem of Lucys pants that are rubbing on her needy clit.

“Lucy please” Ona begins the whining. “You can’t leave me alone all day, them come home and refuse to fuck me” she finishes with a mumble.

“I can when you are sick darling girl” Lucy delicately fights back.

“agh Lucy please, I’m all wet, and you’re the person I want to share that with” Ona begging is something that could almost get Lucy on her knees for the small girl.

Lucys body has a physical reaction to Onas words. A long deep breathe escapes her mouth and her eyes soften. “Your all, wet baby?” she says, trying not to give in to her racing mind when she quotes Onas words. “I don’t want to hurt you sweet girl”

Ona is quick to reply “You’re not going to hurt me Lucy” she says franticly trying to get the words off her tongue. “Just please open my legs and fuck me” She shoots Lazers into Lucys eyes “Please Lucy”

“Stay here for a second” Lucy says, lifting Onas frame off her and on to the couch, leaving the room and leaving Ona alone. She isn’t sure is her begging had worked out in her favour or not, but alas, she did as she was told and stayed on the couch.

Lucy is soon to return to her good girl. A strap in one hand, and a small dildo in the other. Ona has never been the type to be able to take anything big, and Lucy has never wanted to push her too hard.

Ona makes space for her on the couch and Lucy lays her body down, motioning for Ona to straddle her waist once more. Ona places her body weight down and leans into the lips of Lucy. Lucys hand wraps around the back of her neck not allowing her to leave the kiss until she was finished.

Lucy pulls Ona by the back of the neck away from the kiss “Baby my face” she begins “Come onto it okay”.

Ona doesn’t have to answer, she quickly pulls herself Lucy and starts to undress. “keep the shirt on pretty girl” Lucy instructs, referring to the ‘Bronze’ jersey that Ona wore loose on her shoulders.

Ona doesn’t need to be asked twice. She knows the way Lucy just gets weak in the knees at the sight of Ona in her jerseys. Something the possession it holds. Her name, on Onas back

Lucy manhandles Onas body to the way she wants her, before pulling her onto her face. Ona breath hitches at the sudden friction of Lucys nose on her clit. Onas bare bottom half finds itself begining to grind back and forth on the face of her girlfriend. With Lucys slick tongue exploring its way around Onas’s hole, Lucy finds that its just not quite enough for her. Lucys arms wrap around Onas spread thighs, digging her nails into her ass and pulling her down, forcing her to put all her body weight onto her tongue.

It usually takes a lot of reassurance to get Ona to fully place herself onto Lucys mouth, always being hesitant that she will hurt her somehow, but Lucy is always quick to deny that idea. Sometimes even having to go as far as holding her down onto her face with all her strength. Lucy fucking loves it. Onas’s thighs around her head, her slick dripping down her chin.

Onas getting good use out of Lucys noes, feeling the texture of her skin on her most intimate parts. Lucys tongue is venturing in and out, occasional pressing flat on her hole, catching all her leaking goodness, swallowing it with pure bliss.

The mix of Lucys mouth and her strong eye contract from beneath her, has Ona beginning to spiral. She knows she doesn’t need to communicate this with Lucy. Having been clearly aware due to the speed in which her actions were getting too. Lucys grip on Ona was pulling her even further with each second that pasted. Lucy could barely breath underneath her, something that hardly worried her, knowing how fast she could get to Onas high.

“Agh, yes Lucy” Onas frantic pleading has Lucy smiling against her. “Yes Lucy” her pitch gets higher at the end of each statement. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, telling out a smooth hum of a moan as she lets herself go into Lucys mouth, shaking her legs and squeezing them around her head.

Ona steals a breath from the air, moving herself off Lucys face and sitting on her clothed stomach. Lucy being fully clothed with Ona bare wasn’t a completely uncommon practice in the household.

“Ona darling help me put this on”. Lucy breaks the silence, referring the strap in her hands, passing it to Ona. She moves down Lucys body and kneels between her legs. She picks it from Lucys hands, fiddling with the harness and getting it around Lucys hips, covered by her boxers.

“You think you can take this one baby girl?” Lucy double checks, the strap is small, but so is Ona, and the last thing Lucy wanted was to push her when she was sick.

“Yes, ill be good” Ona struggles to get full words out, due to the pure bliss she feels, just looking at the toy in front of her.

Lucy takes the answer, tightening the harness to her waist before pushing Ona further down. “I was you back to face me while you ride my cock” Lucy says, in a gently demanding tone.

Onas bottom lip is swollen from all the bitting, Lucys voice and demanding tone, not helping the situation. Ona grabs a hold of Lucys thighs for balance, turning herself around and putting her legs over Lucys waist. Onas’s ass sits on Lucys stomach, Lucys hands find it almost immediately. She lifts herself up with the help of Lucys grip and hovers over the strap, nervous about letting herself fall.

Ona suddenly feels tired, worried she might do this the wrong way. She stays hovering for more than usual and Lucy begins to wonder the expression on her girlfriend’s face.

“Can you take it sweat girl?” Lucy asks again, in an almost teasing tone this time.

Ona doesn’t reply, beginning to squirm in her position.

“Darling, do you need help?” Lucy asks, caressing the skin of Onas soft ass.

“yeah”

“Lay back for me” Lucy pulls her back. “Come on, nice and comfy”.

Ona relaxes into the precents of Lucy, legs spread wide and open. Lucys hand sneaks under her and onto the toy, lining it up with Onas’s cunt.

“Look at me” Lucy says, turning Onas’s face to look her in the eye as she thrusts herself in, so slowly, so soft.

Ona’s gentle moan has her snuggling into Lucys grip. Lucys hands now holding Ona’s legs open as she slowly thrusts in and out, causing Ona to whine in her hold.

“Shh baby girl. I know you can take it” Lucy places kisses all over Onas red face. Her pace starting to speed up, much to the overwhelming pleasure of Ona.

“yes, yes lucy” Onas words come out more breathy and pathetic than intended.

Lucy legs go of one thigh to hold Onas’s face, looking down into her eyes, Ona looks like she’s been to a whole new level of pleasure. Eyes watering and checks red.

“Are you going to cum for me like this?” Lucy asks, already knowing the answer.

Ona can’t get words out, simply humming in reply as she begins to shake in Lucys grip. Lucy responses by going deeper, getting a yelp from Ona, who now finds refuge in the neck of her girlfriend.

“Let go baby” It’s all Ona need to hear before she is riding an absolute high, legs shaking and hips rocking, she floats to the point of pure stimulation, no longer feeling anything around her but the warm embrace of Lucy, who, without Onas’s knowledge had completely pulled out of her.

“Good girl, shhh baby, you’re okay” Lucy says, helping Ona gain control of her breathing and come back to the room, her mind elsewhere.

“sh sh sh, deep breaths” Ona’s breathing returns and she is turned over, chest to chest with Lucy who takes her hair in her hand, stocking her scalp with nothing but pure love.

“My good baby”

[renaiswriting]

Under the moonlight

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol/Reader

Summary: Late-night adventures with the guy your parents hate.

Word count: +2.6k words.

Warnings: snicking out of your house, mentions of your parents not liking Seungcheol, kind of forbidden love (?), mentions of tattoos and dyeing hair being seen as something that criminals do.

Author's note: I had a dream like this probably a week before my birthday, and every time I heard the song "In the middle of the night," I kept remembering it, so I decided to write it down. It's cringy, so you're welcome.

Under the moonlight moodboard

Under the moonlight playlist

Masterlist

*if you wanna be tagged, please fill out the tag list form

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Your reflection on the other side of the mirror looked back at you with the same intense sparkle in its eyes as yours.

 

You put on your favorite perfume once again. It was your favorite perfume. The one for special occasions

 

The one you avoided wearing at all costs because it was too expensive to buy again, but that you wore because it was his favorite.

 

You touched up your eyeliner one last time and your red lips.

 

There was a sweet melody playing in the background.

 

It was one o'clock in the morning.

 

The sky was invaded by thousands of stars and the beautiful moon that had watched you grow up since you were a little girl.

 

It was still early.

 

You approached your window, sighing as your eyes were mesmerized by such overwhelming beauty.

 

You could feel your stomach being invaded by the tingling of hundreds of butterflies.

 

As nervous as you were.

 

A small chuckle escaped your lips, the sound startling you and causing you to quickly cover your mouth with your hands.

 

You were about to do something your parents would punish you for if they found out.

 

And that scared you a little.

 

But you couldn't help it.

 

The feel of his arms around your waist

 

His lips on yours

 

The sweet words he said as his hands drew you closer to his body

 

His perfume.

 

His husky voice.

 

The way he laughed

 

The way he looked at you

 

It was all so addictive.

 

That every time you set out to end this weird situation you were in, it just left you craving more.

 

Waiting for the next time you see him.

 

The images of the last time you had met only made the warmth in your cheeks spread to the rest of your body.

 

You looked at the time once more, wiping your palms against your clothes, before stopping the song that had been playing until then.

 

The volume was barely audible inside your room, so you knew your parents simply couldn't hear it.

 

Seungcheol: I'm here.

 

Taking a deep breath and a last look in the mirror, you walk as slowly as possible and carefully down the stairs.

 

You could feel your heart beating a thousand miles per second, pounding hard against your chest.

 

Seungcheol's black car was parked behind some trees, the spot he always chose because it was almost completely dark in case your parents or some gossipy neighbor wanted to look out the window. They couldn't spot him at first glance.

 

Its windows were tinted, so you couldn't see inside.

 

You bit your lower lip, trying to keep the smile that threatened to appear on your face from being too obvious.

 

The light inside the car came on as you slid into the passenger seat.

 

Seungcheol had one hand on the steering wheel, and his back was completely relaxed against the seat.

 

"You took your time; I was starting to think you might have changed your mind." He greeted you; his eyes traveled from your face to your dress, smiling broadly. "Looking pretty, as always." His minty breath washed over you; it was so addictive.

 

"I know." You rolled your eyes, gently tapping him on the shoulder.

 

You loved the way his strong biceps felt under his black leather jacket.

 

"I thought you might have fallen asleep; it's kind of late already. I was looking forward to seeing you in your pajamas." He teased you.

 

"Me in my pajamas? For you? Never." I joked back.

 

"Aw, trying to look all cute for me?" He continued the joke, starting the car and starting to drive away from your house.

 

The further they drove away, the more relaxed you felt.

 

You rolled down the windows, letting in some of the fresh air from outside.

 

There were almost no cars; it was as if you had the whole night and the whole world to yourselves.

 

"Did your parents hear you?" He asked, not really minding the silence between you both.

 

"No, my dad was snoring last time I checked."

 

"I was ready to take an emergency escape route just in case." He replied, and while there was a teasing smile on his face, you weren't sure if he was joking or not.

 

Seungcheol hummed the song that had started playing and turned up the volume a little.

 

You smiled.

 

Carefully, you moved your face closer to the outside of the window, trying to get a better view of the dark sky and the stars.

 

"Enjoying the view?" Seungcheol asked, his voice deep and husky.

 

"Yeah," you sighed, moving back to your seat. "It's definitely way peaceful out here."

 

You closed your eyes against the back of the seat, enjoying what came to be this little taste of freedom.

 

Seungcheol's hand rested on your knee, holding it gently.

 

The warmth of his hand spread from your knee to the rest of your body, making you suddenly all too aware of every move Seungcheol made.

 

"I'm glad," he replied.

 

You wondered if he also felt as nervous and anxious about these little meetings as you did.

 

Your fingers began to drum against the inside of your leg, trying to calm your nerves a little.

 

Seungcheol's hand caught yours without needing to look away from the road. "Why so nervous?" He asked quietly.

 

And truth be told, it wasn't at all fair the way he seemed so calm.

 

When one look from him had you shaking from head to toe,

 

"I'm not," you tried to defend yourself.

 

"Such a terrible liar." Seungcheol replied.

 

"What's that?" you asked, when the reflection of a light shone on his wrist.

 

Seungcheol smiled proudly, moving his arm closer to you so you could discover it on your own.

 

Your hand carefully moved along the red skin and dark lines. "Do you like it?" He asked.

 

"It's beautiful." You breathed, taking a closer look at the little details. "When did you get it?"

 

"This morning." Seungcheol replied happily.

 

"Did you actually wake up early? Wow. Unbelievable." You teased him.

 

Seungcheol pockets out his tongue at you. "I actually fell asleep while they were doing it." He confessed.

 

Your eyes were wide open with this new piece of information.

 

You didn't have any tattoos, but everybody that you knew that had one always complained about how painful they were.

 

"I must say, it's pretty, but the one on your neck is still my favorite one."

 

Seungcheol looked in your direction, making eye contact for a brief second. You couldn't ignore the obvious glow in his eyes. "I can take you to the person who did it; maybe you can get one of your own." He smiled, biting the inside of his cheek.

 

"And get my ass kicked out of my house? No thank you." You laughed.

 

"Well, what if you have it in a more discreet place? Like your lower back or something like that? I bet it would look good on you."

"I would pay just to know how many times you have thought about me getting a tattoo there."

 

Seungcheol didn't reply, but he changed the song.

 

You grinned when your brain recognized the song. Seungcheol glanced at you, chuckling at your reaction.

 

"Oh, you still remember it." He laughed, his cheeks tinted pink.

 

"How could I not?" You replied, laughing, "How old were you, nineteen?" You asked him.

 

Seungcheol snorted a yes, looking out of the window to avoid your teasing eyes.

 

"God, you have always had such a cheesy music taste." You laughed but still sang every single line of the song Seungcheol dedicated to you after your first encounter.

 

"It's not cheesy!" He sulked. "It's romantic."

Seungcheol would never know how much you replied to that song, dancing around your room like a fool in love, the first time you read the text with the name of the song.

Seungcheol and you were not exclusive.

 

Never spoke about not seeing other people.

 

But truth be told, you weren't interested in anyone else.

 

Since the moment your mother told you to stay away from him, it has been as if you had only eyes for him and no one else.

 

The first time you both spoke to each other was when your teacher sent you to give back the exams. Seungcheol accidentally bumped into you, and he apologized.

 

If he liked you at first, he was not sure about you.

 

Sure, he did look in your direction here and there. But he didn't talk back to you for months after that.

 

And you weren't sure if it wasn't for that party one of your friends made you go to, things would have gone the way they did.

Seeing him was fun, and it made you stop thinking.

 

Something that you needed so badly because overthinking seemed to be the only thing you knew how to do well.

 

Hours felt like seconds, and you always forced yourself to stay in the moment because the night was so short that you didn't have much time in your favor.

But then you were back at your house, back in your bedroom, between the four walls, wondering if it meant the same to Seungcheol as it meant to you.

"Are you sure you didn't fall asleep there?" Seungcheol asked, his hand coming under your chin and moving your head in his direction. The physical touch brings you out of your thoughts.

 

"Still wide awake." You mumbled, but a yawn made its way out of your mouth anyway.

 

"You sure?" He smiled at you. Finally reaching your favorite spot and stopping the car

 

It had a name, that's for sure, but you never learned it. However, you called it stars. Since it was so high, you could see all the lights from the city and all the stars in the sky at the same time.

The sky seemed way bigger from there.

 

It was usually occupied by tourists during the day, but at night it was mostly just you two in there (except one time where there was a car with a couple doing god knows what inside).

You went ahead of Seungcheol, getting out of the car and rushing to the edge, looking at the beads of lights that were shining brighter that night.

Seungcheol turned off the car's engine, and now that the place was completely dark, everything seemed even more private.

Seungcheol got out of the car and walked to your side at a slow pace, his hands resting in the front pockets of his black jeans.

"It is so beautiful," you sighed, trying to take in every single detail of the view in front of you.

"It's the exact same view as always." Seungcheol replied, You didn't need to turn your head to see him smiling, "but I agree, it is beautiful." You could feel his eyes on you.

You hummed, taking in the fresh air of the night.

 

There was not a single sound.

 

Seungcheol leaned against the hood of the car.

 

His hands were crossed over his chest.

 

The cold air was moving your hair, and that got you fighting against the air to avoid getting your hair on your face.

 

"You cold?" Seungcheol asked, removing the jacket from his shoulders.

You didn't respond; instead, you took a few steps back until you reached Seungcheol, who, after gently placing his jacket on your shoulders, moved his fingers up to your chin, lifting it so you could look into his eyes.

 

His free hand moved a lock of hair that was falling over your eyes, leaving it behind your ear.

 

"Your lips are purple." Seungcheol frowned, bringing his forehead together with yours. His sudden closeness got the reaction he was looking for, causing you to close your eyes in anticipation of his lips.

 

Seungcheol mumbled something, but you didn't really pay too much attention to it; your brain turned off the second you felt his soft lips against yours.

Seungcheol's hand moved to your cheek, his thumb stroking it gently.

 

Your heart was pounding so hard against your chest that you were afraid Seungcheol was feeling it.

 

Seungcheol moved his lips so slowly that a fire was slowly forming inside you, sending a shiver down your spine.

 

You broke away first, taking a step back and avoiding looking him in the eyes.

 

This was the part you hated—the moment when you wondered whether or not these weird emotions you were feeling were mutual.

If Seungcheol noticed any strange expression that was reflecting the mess you had in your mind at that moment, he did not mention it.

 

You sat next to him. Neither of you were looking at each other, but Seungcheol bumped you with his shoulder, lightly shaking you with his shoulder, and laughed when he heard your insults.

"Asshole." You told him, giving him back the push he had given you but using your hands instead, trying to use more force because Seungcheol was as easy to move as a mountain.

Seungcheol laughed, catching your hands and moving you until you were sitting between his legs.

 

"There, there, stop struggling." Seungcheol shushed you as if he were talking to a puppy that wasn't obeying.

 

He rested his chin on top of your head, drawing you to his chest as another tremor swept over you, hugging you.

"Maybe we'd have to get back in the car," Seungcheol muttered, trying to use his hands to create more warmth in your arms, rubbing the cold jacket. "You're going to be sick."

 

"In a few moments," you replied, "I want to enjoy this view a little longer."

 

"When you wake up tomorrow and can't talk because of a sore throat, remember to tell me so I can say, 'I told you so.'" Seungcheol complained, but he held you tighter anyway.

"What did you do today?" You asked, moving your head slightly to discreetly take in some of his perfume.

"No much," Seungcheol replied, his voice vibrating against your back. You closed your eyes to the sensation, liking it a little bit too much to be surrounded by his scent and his warmth. "I woke up early to help Wonwoo repair one of his motorcycles, and then I went to get the tattoo."

At the mention of the tattoo, your hand went instantly to his arm, your fingers carefully touching it.

"For someone who swears that she loves my other tattoo more, you're surely giving it way more attention."

"Yeah, well. The place where the other one is makes the whole attention thing difficult." You shrugged, freeing his hand.

"I'm still insisting that a tattoo on you would look amazing."

"I'm not against the idea, but my parents would be so furious at me." You replied.

"But what can they do once it's done?" Seungcheol asked, holding your cold fingers once again. "I never asked my mother for permission for my first; she saw it around a month or two later, and by then it was too late anyway, so she couldn't really do much. I bet your parents would get around the idea someday."

"I'm not so sure about it," you replied, but my mother sometimes still holds ground whenever she remembers that my older sister dyed some of her hair blonde when she turned twenty-five."

"But she was old enough already for that." Seungcheol frowned. "I was seventeen when I got my first tattoo." He chuckled.

"Was it good?"

"Nah," Seungcheol said, shaking his head. "It was so cringy, I got it covered up by another one."

You laughed, moving to get away from Seungcheol's arms. You were freezing, and the warmth that the car could provide was now way more tempting.

"Don't you think your parents would change their mind once they see you doing stuff like tattoos?" Seungcheol asked.

"I honestly don't know; my parents think that things like tattoos or dyeing your hair mean that you're a criminal." You smiled sadly.

"I would love to know what they think about me." Seungcheol smirked, turning the car on and starting to drive to MacDonald's to buy something to eat in the drive-through. Your stomach was already begging for some food.

The rest of the night passed so quickly that when you started realizing that the sky was now filled with much more light, you started feeling disappointed.

 

"You keep it." Seungcheol shook his head, passing his jacket back to you when you tried to give it back. "Use it in front of your parents; maybe like that, they'll start getting the idea that you'll soon also become part of the criminal life." He joked.

 

"I'll see you soon." You asked, hoping that Seungcheol didn't hear the hope in your voice.

 

"Sure, Wonwoo wants to try his motorcycles tonight; you can join us. Who knows? Maybe next time you'll be robbing banks."

 

You laughed, remembering the time you told Seungcheol what your father had said about Seungcheol's friends and their motorcycles.

 

"Yeah, maybe." You joked back.

 

And then the cycle began again.

 

You were dancing around your bedroom.

 

Wondered if he was blushing in his bedroom thinking about last night as well.

[munsonthings86]

steve’s always there to wipe your tears

warnings: fluff, slight angst, protective!steve x sunshine!reader, reader has a bad day, 0.6k words

it was written all over your face. your pouty and fraught little face. though steve wasn’t a bookworm, more so the opposite, still, he could read you like a book. if your eyebrows being pulled in so tight and your eyes being stained red with exhaustion wasn’t evidence enough, it would be the way you slammed the door shut as you entered, carelessly tossing your purse onto the already cluttered kitchen counter.

today was one of those days.

returning home from work in a mood that was a drastic shift from the rather chipper one you were normally in, wasn't a rare occurrence. the job you worked for wasn't one that you particularly cared for and given the way they treated you, you were certain that your co-workers would say the same about you.

with your elbows crashing onto the surface of the marble counter cruelly, you veiled your face in your trembling hands with a huff. steve was already finding his way over to you, wrapping warm hands that were a vast difference from the chillness of your own skin, around your waist.

"what's wrong, honey?" he mumbled, running a comforting hand across the plane of your back. you try to speak but its lost in translation against your palms that muffled and mazed your words. the only terms that steve is able to make out are "tired" and "done", though he's still able to grasp what it was you were struggling to say, regardless.

"who do i have to teach a lesson, hm?" he said it as a joke, slightly chuckling to himself when he saw your shoulders shake with what he initially deemed to be your laughter, but soon realized it was quite the opposite. when your chest heaved, breathing increasing by the second as you sobbed, steve coaxed you away from the counter and into his arms, blanketing your distressed self into secure, strong arms.

even in the midst of your very obvious turmoil, you were still relentless in your effort to articulate everything that was weighing on your mind and chest, though the only sounds able to escape your lips were wobbly words and sharp inhales. steve's never felt his heart ache so much, so intensely.

the only thing he could bring himself to do was to lace his lengthy fingers through your shaky ones, resting the tangled mess of hands against his chest, using the thumb of his free one to gently sweep away the salty tears drowning your beautiful eyes. the muscles of your face relax a little as he lulls you, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, jaw, and temples with little whispered, "it's okay"s in between.

once your breathing steadied, the backs of his fingers tapped straggling tears away, soothing the skin under your eyes that was developing a deep shade of red.

your stevie hated seeing you like this.

typically, you were so bubbly and so full of light. always spirited and excited. but with this job that you had, the light in you that steve fell so deeply in love with was dimming; extinguishing with every terrible day it gave you. and steve wanted nothing more than to be the one to help you keep your light ablaze, reminding you that he loved you and would always be there whenever you needed him.

you pulled yourself back into his arms, head buried in his chest as steve's head found solace on top of yours. you loved hugs like this. hugs where though no words were being exchanged, volumes were being spoken. you were safe, loved and protected. nothing could hurt you here. and steve knew that if the day ever came where he needed you, you'd be right there to protect him just the same <3

💌 1 new message from jojo: needing a steve rn ugh :( anyways, inbox is open!

[diggykit-kat]

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑺𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 x Reader

𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢

closely observes you from the shadows, always aware of your every move. leaves gifts for you, seemingly innocent at first, but each one reveals a darker 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗

The plushie is surprisingly skilled at creating makeshift traps to keep you close and under its watchful eye.

Since this bitch resembles a rabbit she is fast as hell. RUN BITCH RUN, running away from them is like running away from a crackhead smelling pancakes off you and chasing you because you told them you had no money on you.

after isolating you, she showers you with seemingly thoughtful gifts, aiming to make you feel special and loved.

“Y/N kiss me😚”

“Oh you want to kiss me? YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!”

𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢:

𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚢𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚗

My little pony, my little pony “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” imagine getting impelled by that horn (shut up). This mf could kill anything that can get penetrated (shut up.) I’m a spam of 3 seconds (SHUT THE FUCK UP)

They leave intricate *handmade* gifts, each crafted with meticulous detail to express its affection. Very very horribly designed drawings.

CraftyCorn communicates through cryptic notes and messages, showcasing their devotion in a quirky yet unsettling manner.

Despite its obsession, CraftyCorn has a peculiar charm that can be disarming, making it challenging to recognize its darker intentions. It adapts her behavior based is on your emotions, oscillating between comforting and possessive gestures to maintain control.

CraftyCorn may use its crafting abilities to fashion personalized items, but with an eerie twist that reflects its obsessive nature.

“Your so sweet I could just lock you up forever so no one will ever find you”

“👄☝️”

“Just kidding! Or am I...I am! Or am I…Nope I am! Or…”

𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚢𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚗:

𝙱𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚑𝚞𝚐

This bitch is a strong as its name, using its plushy exterior to disguise a possessive and intense nature.

It seeks physical closeness, often initiating bear hugs that start as affectionate but can quickly become overwhelming. “MICHAEL HELP ME, MICHAEL, MICHAEL!” 

Bobby becomes jealous easily, reacting strongly to any perceived threats or attention given to others. She doesn’t wanna be left alone, hanging onto your leg while all your trying to do is get a drink of water

“LET GO, DAMMIT BITCH I SAID LET GO!”

“LET ME IN, LET ME INNNNNNN!”

The plushie tries to isolate you from other toys, creating situations where she can have you all to herself.

B.B. uses its huggable appearance to lure you in, creating a false sense of security before revealing its more gremlin tendencies.

Despite its unsettling behavior, Bobby may display moments of vulnerability, revealing a distorted understanding of love and connection. It’s persistent in its affections, always seeking ways to be physically close to you, even if it means resorting to forceful embraces.

“WHY DONT YOU LOVE ME?!??!”

“YOUR BROKE MY LEG BECAUSE I WAS TRYING TO FIND FOOD”

“YES? And.”

𝙱𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚢:

[aqua-reeus]

model for me

⚠️NSFW 18+ mdni!! pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader cw: smut, teasing, oral sex, little bit of praise, little bit of biting hehe

a/n: apologies this is so damn long, but I’m a descriptive writer I have to write every moment and get it out my head lol.

Simon loves it when you model your new outfits for him

You stood with your back to the living room door after coming in from shopping. Simon wasn’t home yet, so you took this chance to try on some clothes you bought. Excitement coursed through your veins as you pulled out a stunning red dress from one of the bags, feeling its smooth fabric against your skin. You eagerly slipped it on, up from your thighs and up through your arms. With an effort, you managed to get the zip up halfway and pause, run your hands down your form, sighing as you gazed at yourself in the mirror.

The fabric hugged your curves so nicely and you wondered what Simon would think if he saw you wearing this. But those thoughts quickly dissipated as you heard the front door opening and heavy footsteps making its way to the living room, urging you to start fiddling with the zip again but it wouldn’t budge.

Simon leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched you struggle with the dress. His eyes slowly followed the contours of your body, from top to bottom, a mix of admiration and amusement in his gaze. A small smirk creeped onto his lips as he watched you wrestle with the fabric.

You turned to look at him, then back at the mirror, watching his reflection. “Hey you, how was work?”

Simon kept on smiling, watching you struggle and enjoying every minute of it.

“You need help, love?” he asked, his voice soft and playful. “Or do I get to watch you struggle for a few more seconds?”

You sighed and dropped your hands by your side. “Just zip it up for me.” You scoffed at him, turning away in embarrassment.

He moved off the doorway and chuckled as he walked slowly over to you, his eyes hungrily tracing the lines of your body. The scent of mixed sweat and tobacco filled your lungs as he got closer. You always hated that he smoked. Always, cursing him to put the killer sticks down. But right now, the scent was intoxicating, stirring something deep within you.

He came up behind you, strong chest pressing against your back, and you could feel the warmth he radiated. His scent now hit the bottom of your stomach. His lips lingered deliciously close to your neck, and he breathed out slowly. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, sending electric shivers down your spine. Damn, that man knew how to drive you wild. Slowly, deliberately, he started to undo the zipper, but instead of zipping it up like you asked, he pulled it down.

Your breath caught in your throat and realisation flooded your senses. You know the game he’s playing. He finished with the zipper and walked away, leaving you standing there, craving more of his touch as he casually settled on the sofa.

You removed the remainder of the dress and picked out another outfit to try on. And his eyes still lingered on you.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch?” You asked, a hint of seduction in your voice. But he didn’t answer, his silence only adding to the tension. With a playful tilt of your head, you modelled the new outfit in front of him, waiting for his response. “What do you think?”

“Mm, I think it looks perfect on you,” Simon said, his voice laced with a hint of desire. He placed one of his arms on the back of the couch relaxing back and subtly shifting forwards, parting his legs slightly. The air around you seemed to heat up with intensity and you squinted your eyes at him. You could see the lust and anticipation in his eyes but weren’t ready to jump on him just yet. No. Even though your body wanted to, you decided to tease him little longer.

You removed the outfit from your body and leaned into one of the bags and pulling out another outfit to try on, and another and another and finally, a delicate lace set. The intricate design and sheer fabric made your heart race, knowing the effect it would have on Simon. His eyes locked onto the lace set, following the intricate patterns and alluring designs. His eyes slowly fell back onto you, and from where you were standing, you swore you could see the minute his pupils dilated and turned dark.

You held up the lace set, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. You could feel the air thicken. “What do you think of this?” you asked.

“I think,” he cleared his throat. “I think you need to stop teasing me and put it on.”

You chuckled and turned back to the mirror, removing your old underwear and slowly putting on the new set. In the reflection of the mirror, you caught a glimpse of Simon’s intense gaze. His brown eyes devouring the sight of you donning the lace. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly and you knew that the game of seduction had reached its peak. You fastened the delicate hooks and turned to look at him.

“Is this what you had in mind?” You asked, voice dripping with confidence and seduction.

Simon’s breath hitched in his throat and his eyes burned with a raw hunger that mirrored your own. “Come here.” His response was a command veiled in desire as he gestured you over, his hand patting softly on his lap. The invitation was clear and with a seductive smile on your lips, you sauntered over to him. Without hesitation, you straddled his lap, feeling his arms instinctively wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. The undeniable hardness beneath his jeans brushed against your inner thigh, sending an electric jolt through your body and sent a pool of wetness flowing out of you, soaking your new underwear. You could feel his pulse through his chest and his breathing became more rapid.

You barely had time to wrap your arms around his neck before his lips were crashing into yours. You met his kiss with equal passion, soft and slow. He took his hand and wrapped it around the back of your head pulling you even closer as he kissed you deeper, his fingers brushing through your hair and his rough tongue caressing your lips. A delicious ache built in your core as you slowly started to grind against his clothed hardness. Simon groaned as he felt your hips pushing into him, he pulled away from the kiss.

“I love you in this.” He whispered, his fingers brushed against your bare skin as he reached out to touch one of your nipples, teasing it gently through the material of your bra before cupping your breast in his hand. You let out a small moan.

He smirked, the corner of his lips turning up as he teased your nipple with his fingertips once more. A surge of pleasure surged through your body, making you hiss a breath in between your teeth. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you threw your head back, your hips instinctively grinding against his hardness, seeking more of his touch.

His lips had left a trail of fiery kisses and nips along your exposed neck. His hands had moved to caress your back and undo your bra and as the fabric fell away, you felt the rush of cool air brushing against your exposed skin, contrasting from the heat radiating from your bodies. In this moment you knew that you had finally attained what you desired all along: Simon’s touch.

With a swift and commanding movement, he had effortlessly lifted your body and gently placed you back down on the sofa. The sudden change in position made your heart raced and you watched in eagerness as he got up to remove his clothing.

Your legs automatically and slowly fell open, and you ran your hands down your body. Every inch of your skin was heated. Simon smirked, his eyes following the path of your hands as they roamed over your body. He moved closer to you, placing himself between your thighs and you watched as he left a trail of kisses down your body. Each one wet and soft. And as he moved lower, his teeth grazed against your skin, biting softly. The taste of you was intoxicating, a sweet nectar of your favourite body lotion and skin. It was a blend that was uniquely you, a delight he couldn’t resist. He savoured the taste on his tongue.

The sensations intensified as he moved further down your body, his teeth marking your skin. You gasped, your body arching in response to his touch as he continued his path, his breath was warm against your skin and you chuckled a bit.

“Mm, your breath tickles.” You gasped, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He grinned around your core and groaned, his own desire evident as you spoke. With his teeth, he pulled off the remaining lingerie, leaving you fully exposed. He positioned his head back at your core and with a deliberate slowness he extended his large tongue and traced a tantalising stripe up the length of your wetness. As his tongue teasingly flicked at your clit, the small pressure sent shocks throughout you. He continued his ministrations, his tongue danced and teased at your swollen bud before diving deeper, lapping up your juices greedily. His mouth moved skilfully against you, alternating between soft sucks and licks that drove you wild with pleasure.

“F-Fuck…Si.” You moaned, your voice breathless.

Simon’s ears reddened at your filthy words, but he couldn’t help but laugh softly against you, his fingers pressed softly against your wet entrance while his mouth continued to work its magic.

“That’s right, baby.” He murmured against you, his hot breath against your wetness.

“Si, baby…nng…mmm.” You whimpered under him, feeling a familiar tightening in your stomach.

Simon picked up the pace, his tongue and fingers worked in harmony to bring you closer to the edge. He hummed against your skin, the vibrations intensifying and making you writhe harder.

“That’s it, let it out.” He murmured as he continued his relentless assault on your senses, knowing you were close to climaxing. Your body quivered in response as the knot in your stomach spread over you. Your cries filled the room, loud and unashamed as the pleasure built up.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, surrendering to the overwhelming waves of pleasure throughout your body.

Simon continued lapping and tonguing your sensitive core, drawing out your climax and helping you ride it out. He relished the feeling of your hot and wet gummy walls clenching around his fingers as he thrusted them slowly in and out. Your ears rung. Once you started to relax under his mouth, he slowly pulled away, lingering for a moment before he licked his lips. He moved up your body, locking his brown eyes with yours and his arms wrapped around you as continued coming down, your chest heaving against his.

“Maybe you should model for me more.”

“Maybe…,” you replied playfully. “I have a lot more outfits to try on.”

[dreamcubed]

false god | blaise zabini x reader

song; false god [taylor swift] pairing; blaise zabini x pure-blood!slytherin!fem!reader genre; arranged marriage, angst, hurt comfort, fluff, sort-of-e2l word count; 4,7k timeline; deathly hallows warnings; swearing, references to sex/hook-ups, references to battle injuries, questionable views on muggle-borns summary; you had been betrothed to blaise zabini practically your whole life, and while you moved in the same friend group, he had always avoided you. you tried to understand, you really did, but were you really so undesirable?

happy belated valentine's day!!

masterlist

"they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith."

——————————————

The ring of plated white gold and emerald jewels had sat comfortably on your left ring finger ever since you had been big enough to wear it. It was worth a fortune, as your parents frequently reminded you, so it would be disrespectful to the Zabini family to not wear it with pride. You obeyed, even though Blaise - your affianced - had not worn his (more masculine) twin ring for as long as you had known him.

Sometimes you would catch the pitying looks of your mutual friends whenever the sun shone just right on the piece of jewellery, catching everyone's attention. They all knew that Blaise avoided you, never spoke to you, but it was an unspoken matter. You did your best to never show your hurt on your face, and be a strong and positive woman, like your parents had raised you to be.

You just wanted to make them proud.

It's not that you were in love with Blaise, not by any means. You would have to have actually spoken and bonded with the man to reach that stage. Regardless, rejection hurt, especially when you had no part in the arrangement of your marriage either. You were in the same position as he was, yet he acted as if you were at fault for the situation he found himself in.

You weren't a bad person, and you were at least decently attractive - was it really so bad to be betrothed to you? Why couldn't he just make the best of a bad situation and try to get to know you?

***

The Hogwarts Express had never been colder, even the warm red seats looked sallow and grey, reflecting the sullen looks on everyone's faces. You let out a sigh, pulling your thick jacket tighter around you and sinking into the cushions. Pansy was sat next to you, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she stared at the water droplets cascading down the window. You hadn't said a word to each other apart from a greeting.

In fact, everyone on the train seemed to be sitting in silence.

Slytherin was the only house with almost full attendance from its students, as even the families who didn't support the death eaters felt confident in the safety of their children thanks to their blood status. The same couldn't not be said for the other houses, which had lost a good chunk of their students due to parental fears. Especially the muggle-borns - every single muggle-born you knew in your year had not shown up to catch the train.

It wasn't a mystery as to why: showing up to the school that was now overseen by Voldemort as a muggle-born was a death wish.

Despite its pure-blood status, your family didn't support Voldemort. That's not to say that they didn't have prejudices against muggle-borns, or that they would let you marry one, but they certainly didn't wish death upon them and would likely be okay with you befriending them. Just as long as you kept your bloodline pure.

The L/N family had remained a neutral party during the First Wizarding War, and were doing the same now during the second.

"Have you seen Draco?" Pansy asked, not even looking at you.

"I think I saw him at the platform at one point."

She hummed, and the silence fell again.

You began biting your nails.

***

The reign of Severus Snape as headmaster of Hogwarts had officially begun, casting an even more intense shadow over the school. As a Slytherin, this was actually quite good news, but you weren't so selfish that you could disregard the wellbeing of the other houses. Plus, the subject changes like Defence Against the Dark Arts becoming simply- the Dark Arts- were quite jarring.

"Can someone pass me the roast potatoes?" the emotionless voice of your fiancé rang out, signifying that he was talking to you. Normally, when talking to your other friends, he would smile, say please, even laugh. But when he was talking to you, he would do so indirectly and without emotion.

Sure enough, you were the person closest enough to the roast potatoes, but you decided to hold back in fulfilling his request, instead locking eyes with him. "Say please."

His eyes bored into yours for a few moments, before he scoffed and said, "Please."

"Was that so hard?" you mumbled, passing over the potatoes. Your friends had gone silent during the exchange, some of them sending pitiful glances your way. You were sick of being treated this way, both by Blaise and your friends, even if your friends did have good intentions.

You resumed your meal, aiming to at the very least enjoy the food of your last ever welcome feast at Hogwarts.

***

All you knew about Blaise was what your parents and friends had told you.

He was a pure-blood, and the son of a beautiful witch who had been widowed seven times under suspicious circumstances and become richer every time. As far as you could tell, it was highly likely that one of these dead husbands was Blaise's father. Admittedly, it made you nervous to marry into such a family, so perhaps it was a good thing that Blaise was so unwilling.

But your mother had told you that you had nothing to worry about, as Ms. Zabini only ever married bad men, and used it as a means to eradicate them.

"A noble cause."

Still, you had the rights to be nervous.

"Back to school party tonight," Millicent bounced up to you and announced, "Just us Slytherins."

"A party?" you had forgotten that such an event existed, given the misery of the world.

"I mean, yeah, we all need a pick-me-up," she shrugged, "It'll be in the common room. Bring firewhiskey."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but ultimately decided that drunkenness was just what the doctor ordered.

***

In your defence, you had started off slow with the drinks, mixing with lemonade and gradually sipping over a long period of time. However, once that system had (slowly but surely) gotten you drunk, all bets were off.

"Shots!" someone had shouted, and next thing you knew you were downing your sixth shot, after however many mixed drinks you had.

You stumbled away from the dancers to where some of your friends sat chatting, having the sudden feeling that you weren't too far away from passing out.

"Pansy..." you slurred, flopping on to the sofa next to her.

"Salazar, Y/N, how much have you drunk?"

Ignoring her question, you mumbled, "I feel amazing."

"A little self-control next time, yeah?"

You waved her off, no longer feeling like you were about to pass out so stumbling to your feet. You looked around the room with your eyes squinted, deciding that another drink was an excellent idea.

As you were on your way over - your friends calling after you - your vision became blurrier, until you bumped into a hard chest.

"What the fuck?" you cursed, narrowing your eyes and looking up at the person who inconvenienced you.

"Zabini," you muttered.

"Should you be getting another drink?" he asked.

You blanked him, "Does it kill you to be nice to me?"

He said nothing, biting on his inner cheek.

That was when the feeling of passing out returned, only this time in tenfold, making you drop forward. Your eyelids were heavy, you had to close them, and your body was heavy too, too much effort to remain stood up...

The only things you remember seeing after that were flashes of the stairs down to the dormitories - but you weren't walking, so how was that possible? And then throwing up in a toilet bowl, with your hair for some reason out of the way.

And then cushions, and quilt. But not yours: they smelled gorgeous, so you nuzzled your head into the scent and sighed dreamily.

***

When your eyes slowly peeled themselves open the next morning, your head was pounding and you were quite disoriented. Initially, you seemed to be tucked up in your own bed, but upon closer inspection you realised that the forest green decor was not in the usual place of the Slytherin seventh year girls' dormitories. In fact, this was a room that you had never seen before.

"You're up."

Your eyes shot towards the entrance to the connected bathroom, and every limb in your body froze as you laid eyes upon Blaise Zabini, already showered and dressed even though it was a Saturday.

"What- I-" you stuttered, sitting up in bed. You were relieved to see that you were still in the party clothes from the night before: you weren't opposed to a hook-up, but you would've liked to remember it.

"Relax," he sighed, "You blacked out last night. Carried you down here because I can't go down the girls' stairs."

You nodded slowly, trying to piece together the events, "Right..."

He said nothing, moving over to the dresser to spray a fragrance on his wrists. He truly was your typical classy rich boy. You took this opportunity to look around at the other beds in the room, seeing that the curtains were drawn around one in particular.

"Your beloved Pansy is in there."

Salazar, had she and Draco had sex while you were sleeping in the same room?

"At the very least they put a sound-proofing charm on," Blaise confirmed that thought, and you couldn't help but remark that this was the most he had ever spoken to you.

"Where did you sleep?" you had to ask.

This time, Blaise blanked you, his dark oak eyes void of emotion.

"Next to you," he eventually said, making your breath hitch. "Like we're not engaged, L/N," he scoffed, making you scowl.

"Since when have you acted like it?"

He didn't reply, and you decided that if you let it escalate to an argument, you might wake up the others. So, you forced yourself out of bed, picking up your shoes and leaving without another word.

Walk of shame, here you come.

***

Typically, if one of the girls in your dorm stumbled in the morning after a party in their clothes from the night before, there would be immediate questions of what happened and with who. But, when you entered your dorm, you were met with silence. Partially because half of the girls were still asleep, but mainly because the girls who were awake avoided looking at you.

Daphne was the only one forward enough to say something. "I saw Blaise carry you down."

To be fair, that would explain the lack of questions about hook-ups. They hadn't suspected that the two of you had sex. You simply hummed in response, just wanting to strip yourself of your clothes and makeup and crawl under your own duvet.

But Daphne still wasn't forward enough to ask if that meant your engagement had become a less cold one, as that would be entering the territory of the unspoken agreement to never mention the elephant in the room of Blaise's unwarranted disdain for you.

So, you were able to settle into a new slumber unhindered.

***

The party had been a pleasant but unfortunately temporary distraction from the miserable atmosphere that was Hogwarts. Learning the dark arts made you feel dirty, unclean - like you were announcing to the whole world that you were a death eater. You knew you weren't, and that you would never receive the Dark Mark, but you couldn't help but feel like a bad person.

You knew, however, that being a Slytherin meant the other houses looked at you with disdain, and also that many of your friends weren't entirely opposed to the Dark Lord's cause. It was something that made you sick to your stomach, yet you refused to voice these thoughts to anyone.

Not even Christmas could cheer you up, when before the colourfully decorated castle walls had filled you with a joy like no other. It didn't even feel like Christmas, it was as if all the saturation in the world had been lost, leaving behind a cold, dull grey hue. You had never been so sure of the fact that you would go home for Christmas than you were that year. At least your home wasn't shadowed by the rule of Voldemort, even if it was a tad cold and empty.

"I'll see you in the new year, yeah?" Daphne said to you, pulling you into a hug, "Have a good Christmas."

"You too," you returned the embrace, "And happy new year."

She smiled at you, and that was when you caught sight of Blaise in the corner of your eye. You hadn't spoken since the events of the Slytherin party, primarily because you had avoided him. But, he was walking towards you.

"Merry Christmas," he said monotonously, and Daphne took that as her cue to disappear.

"Merry Christmas," you said curtly back, picking up your trunk as you prepared to get off the train.

"Our families are having dinner together over the holiday."

You hesitated in your movements upon hearing that, but decided against replying, instead leaving him stood there with an expressionless face.

***

It wasn't that your parents didn't love you or care for you by any means, you knew that if you refused to marry Blaise Zabini they wouldn't disown you. But, they were raised with certain values and customs, and you had been raised into them as well. You wanted to make them proud - you just wished that the husband they had picked for you was a more willing participant in the arrangement.

So, when Blaise Zabini and his recently widowed (for the millionth time) mother arrived on your doorstep, the smile on your face wasn't entirely false. There were some truth to your emotions, despite the current state of the world.

"As you know, Blaise and Y/N are in their final year of Hogwarts," Ms Zabini spoke proudly once you were all sat around your dining table, "I believe it's time we start planning the wedding."

"I couldn't agree more," your mother replied, "It should be an elegant affair."

"That goes without saying."

You chewed on your lip.

"Y/N, what colour theme would you like?" your mother asked.

Your breath hitched, as you tried to scrape together a daydream of your dream wedding.

"Maybe pastel green?" you suggested timidly, "Since we're both Slytherins."

Ms Zabini nodded her head approvingly, "Is that agreeable to you, Blaise?"

The man shrugged, "Whatever Y/N wants."

"That makes things easy," the widow said, "It shall be a wonderful event."

***

After dinner, your collective parents had left you and Blaise to your own devices, suggesting that you show him your room. Part of you was surprised they were allowing a boy into your bedroom with no supervision, but you supposed some formalities were wavered due to your engagement to be married.

Blaise snorted when he entered your room: covered in moving posters and animated Lego sets, your four poster bed being pink and frilly with enchanted butterfly decor all around the wood.

"It's a bit mismatched," he said simply.

"It's home."

He raised an eyebrow at that, and silence consumed the both of you. The tension that hung in the air was thick, making you feel like you would go insane if you didn't say something.

"I'm not that bad, you know."

Blaise turned to face you from where he was sat at your desk, meanwhile you had perched on the end of your bed.

"I get that being tied to someone not of your choosing is a bit suffocating - believe me, I know - but you could make it easier for yourself by actually trying to get to know me."

"I do know you."

You rolled your eyes, "You know what I mean, Blaise," his first name was a foreign taste on your tongue, "You could have a worse wife than me."

He appeared to ponder your words for a while, stewing in the dampening tension of the atmosphere meanwhile you anxiously awaited his response. It was as if every action he took was intentional in making your nerves spike.

"The truth is, Y/N, I resent you."

You sat, stunned.

"My freedom to choose has been taken away from me."

Your blood boiled, making you stand up, "And I'm to blame for that? I'm in the same situation as you are, you knobhead."

He said nothing.

"I wasn't the one who made the decision. Stop acting like you're the only one here who's having a hard time."

Blaise went to open his mouth, but you carried on.

"Not to mention, there are people out there dying in the war right now," you vaguely gestured towards the window, "You should count your lucky stars that the biggest problem in your life is having to marry me!"

You scoffed, watching as he stared wide-eyed at you. After you realised he had nothing to say, you left the room to head down to the kitchens. Salazar, you needed a cup of hot chocolate after that whole ordeal.

***

The dark grey clouds cast a grim shadow over the once buzzing atmosphere of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they only seemed to get gloomier by the day. It was all you could do to stand on the sheltered bridge as you watched rain pour down, even though it was meant to be Spring. The mood of the wizarding world had always had a strange effect on the weather.

Your gloveless fingers were beginning to grow numb in the cold, but you didn't move, nor make any attempt to warm them up. You just wish that you could say that your low mood was for something as selfless as the current danger muggle-borns were in. But, no, you were egotistically thinking about your own qualms - i.e. your upcoming wedding with a man who hardly looked your way.

Ever since the argument at Christmas, he had gone back to disregarding your existence, apart from the few occasions you would catch him staring at you when he thought no one was watching. Aside from that, both your mother and his were frequently owling you about decisions for the wedding, which was making the whole ordeal seem a lot more real than it did before.

"L/N," the last voice that you expected to hear called out from beside you.

Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around, as if you were paralysed.

"You'll freeze to death out here," he spoke again, this time closer to you, "Everyone's wondering where you are."

Slowly, you turned your head to look at Blaise Zabini, your sallow eyes boring into his.

"They're looking everywhere for you."

"Tell them I'm fine," you eventually spoke.

"I don't think you are, though," he sighed, "You look like you're one minute away from hypothermia."

You shrugged, "Nothing magic medicine can't fix."

Blaise rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand, "Fuck, you're like ice."

That was when he started dragging you back to the castle, and you didn't have the energy to resist at all.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?"

You scoffed, "Like you couldn't guess."

He didn't reply to that statement, instead saying, "We're getting you warmed up."

He sat you in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, wrapping a forest green blanket around you and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hand. Your friends gathered around you, asking questions about where you had been and if you were okay, but you replied to none of them. Eventually, Blaise urged them all to give you space, letting out a sigh in the process.

Your heart twisted, and you attempted to suppress the pain by sipping on the drink.

It burnt your tongue.

"Careful," Blaise murmured, sitting on the sofa behind you.

You didn't even have the energy to scowl.

"We have our NEWTs soon, you have to take care of yourself."

That wasn't the only thing you had soon.

"You don't have to pretend like you care," you eventually forced out between chattering teeth.

You paused - waiting for him to say something. Anything. Part of you was praying to the gods above that he would say he wasn't pretending, that he did truly care. Instead, his silence was deafening, and your heart twisted and turned all that more. Why couldn't you just hate him?

Who would have thought it would be such a curse to have feelings for your fiancé?

***

Dust swarmed your senses, wrenching at your lungs and causing you to cough horrifically like you were a seasoned chainsmoker; you could barely see a metre ahead of you, and it was all you could do to shield your eyes with your arm as you progressed forwards. Through the crumbles and cracks, you could hear yells of Latin, thrown aggressively and with raw passion that had your blood spiking.

As far as you could tell, you were still in the dungeons - but you needed to get out of them, as they appeared on the verge of collapsing. You hadn't particularly engaged in any duels yourself, both because you were a coward, and because you lacked duelling skills. However, you had aided some students against the death eaters here and there on your progression through the castle.

You couldn't take a completely neutral stance like your parents.

You coughed harder, spluttering as your feet found stairs and began to climb up them - stumbling, but not falling.

"Help," a strained voice called out, making you assess the situation around you as best you could. As you inched further towards the left, you could make out the figure of someone stuck under rubble halfway up the staircase. You moved even closer.

"Blaise?" you croaked out.

A groan.

"Fuck," you mumbled, quickly muttering a spell to lift the rubble off of him. You saw the blood staining his clothes and gasped.

"It snapped my wand," he said, wincing as he tried to move.

You did your best to help him up, letting him rest his weight on your shoulders as you continued to push up the stairs.

"The dungeons are about to collapse," you said, carefully navigating your way around the corner once you finished the stairs.

"The whole-" he groaned, "-castle is."

You grimaced, "You need a healer."

But getting to the makeshift hospital ward without getting caught up in a duel would be quite a challenge. Then, it suddenly hit you.

"Which side are you on?" you quickly asked.

He scoffed, "Which side do you think? I'm still here." He then hunched over with an even louder groan than before, you swiftly moved to support his weight more.

Most Slytherin students who were either neutral or on the side of the death eaters had abandoned Hogwarts instead of staying to fight. You were a coward, but you would never have been able to forgive yourself if you had left. Instead, you found yourself stuck in the dungeons, some way, somehow.

"You stayed to fight," you murmured.

He went to say something, but another sharp pain coursed through him.

"Fuck," you cursed.

***

By some miracle, you reached the hospital ward with minimal further damage, and managed to get Blaise seen to instantly. You were amazed that they didn't question two Slytherin students being on their side, but you supposed it made sense: they were the good guys.

As you watched them take his shirt off to assess the damage, a glimmer of something against his chest caught your eye. It was connected to a thin silver chain that dangled around his neck, showing slight signs of wear and tear, implying he didn't even take it off when showering. When your vision cleared, you realised that the shimmery object along the chain was none other than the white gold band of green jewels that was the matching pair to the ring on your finger.

A lump caught in your throat, "You're wearing it," you choked out.

Blaise's eyes were shut, but he smiled tiredly, "Always."

Tears pricked at your eyes.

***

Eventually, what would be known as the infamous Battle of Hogwarts ceased fire: Lord Voldemort had fallen at the hands of Harry Potter. But there weren't cheers.

There was only devastation.

The wreck that the once majestic Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had become, and the subsequent deaths of thousands of kind-hearted people who had so much life to live. It was the epitome of bittersweet to watch people going around clearing up after the battle. You were grateful to be among the living, sat next to Blaise as he slept restlessly on a mat on the floor.

There wasn't really anyone else for you to talk to in the aftermath after all: Slytherins were quite isolated from the other houses, and hardly any Slytherins had stayed.

You allowed yourself the luxury of taking Blaise's hand in your own and squeezing it gently, letting a solitary tear cascade down your cheek. Was it relief? Was it hope? Was it happiness? Or was it sadness? Melancholia? Regret?

You didn't know, you simply allowed the feeling to wash over you.

"I didn't stay to fight," Blaise said out of nowhere, his voice gruff and quiet.

"Hm?"

"I stayed because you stayed."

Your heart jolted at his words, "Really?"

"Of course," he peeled his eyes open, "'Til death do us part."

You squeezed his hand again, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you act like you hated me?"

He sighed, appearing to be gathering as much energy together as he could, "I resented you, yes, but I- I was also scared of hurting you. You know what everyone thinks of my mother - that she's a-" he coughed, "-serial killer. Killing her husbands."

You admired his smooth face, despite its cuts and gashes.

"I was scared of becoming her, and I didn't want that to be your fate."

You reached out a hand to graze his prominent cheekbone, letting the tiniest of smiles tug at your lips.

"We'll be okay, Blaise," you murmured softly, "You're not like her."

He smiled slightly, wincing in the process. "No arranged marriages for our kids?"

You nodded, "No arranged marriages for our kids."

***

Your parents walked either side of you as you made your way down the grassy aisle, the summer heat blazing down on to the prettily flowered meadow. In your hands was a bouquet of white and pastel green peonies, and on your figure was a gorgeous princess ball gown that cost a small fortune. All your family and friends were stood up from their seats, gazing at your every move. Blaise, proudly stood at the altar in a black suit with a mint coloured waistcoat, was no exception. His eyes were trained into yours, making your heart flip tenfold.

Meeting him in front of the officiant, you passed your bouquet off to Pansy before allowing yourself to truly smile in your fiancé's presence. He took your hands into his and squeezed ever so slightly, as the officiant began to speak.

It felt like forever before the vows.

"I, Mr Blaise Zabini, promise to take Miss Y/N L/N to be my wife, and to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part."

He slipped the ring on to your finger, where it settled above your engagement ring.

The attention was then on you.

"I, Miss Y/N L/N, promise to take Mr Blaise Zabini to be my husband, and to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part." You pushed the larger ring on to his finger.

"I now, by the power vested in me, pronounce you husband and wife."

Blaise swooped down to kiss you warmly on the lips as cheers erupted from the crowd, and you found yourself smiling into his lips.

"I love you," he whispered. Words he had never spoken before.

"I love you too."

'Til death do us part.

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masterlist

written; 27/12/2023 —> 15/02/2024 published; 16/02/2024 edited; —/—/——