#like because to them she is one of the most. her tenderness and warmth and care and love for them as if theyre her own make her beautiful

[cherry-treelane]

this is extremely important to me it means so much....if u get it u get it and if u don't u dont.... (fics are all from the wonderful mother_of_houseplants btw shes amazing and so is her writing which is evident in these screenshots)

[sluttywoozi]

Babydoll | csc x f!chubby!reader

Seungcheol takes you lingerie shopping, forgetting that he'll love every single thing just because it's on you.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.0k | Pairing: csc x f!chubby!reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: lingerie fetish (mainly when it’s on you), semipublic sex, petnames, rich!cheol, sugar daddy vibes but they’re in love, cheol knows his lingerie, possessive cheol, praise, descriptions of reader’s body, thigh riding, biting, mirror sex, piv sex, creampie, panty stuffing

Reader Notes: chubby, shy but not insecure, has breasts and a vagina

“Right here, baby,” Seungcheol nods his head to the right, opening the door to the boutique and waiting for you to walk in ahead of him, ignoring the cursive ‘closed’ sign hanging on the inside. 

The interior is modern, understated, with mannequins of different sizes modeling various pieces of lingerie, a few sticking out to Seungcheol as immediate try-ons. The director appears from a door near the back, smiling kindly when she takes notice of you and Seungcheol and gracefully making her way to the front of the store. 

“Mr. Choi, I hope everything is to your liking. Please feel free to give me a call if you require assistance with anything,” she says, nodding and smiling at both him and you before slipping out of the front door. 

Seungcheol follows after a beat, turning the lock and drawing the curtains hung on both sides of the gallery window. 

“Cheol, what’s going on?” You ask him, standing where he left you, now cloaked in soft ambient lighting. 

“We, my love, are going lingerie shopping,” he grins suggestively, returning to your side and taking your hand in both of his. “I know you get shy, so I made some arrangements. Nobody else will be coming in, not while we’re here.” 

You seem stunned for a moment, but this isn’t the first time Seungcheol has emptied a building for you and it won’t be the last, so eventually, you just smile back and draw him in by the lapel for a kiss. 

He presses his lips to yours, releasing your hand so he can grip your fleshy hips and pull you in closer. He loves how you feel in his grasp, loves the thickness of you, the sturdiness, though no matter how sturdy you may be, he still touches you with nothing but the most tender of hands. He feels lucky, blessed, to get to know you in this way, and treating you like the ethereal being you are is all he wants to do. 

Well, that and clothe you in fabrics that are just as soft as you. 

Silk, lace, chiffon, he wants to see you in them all, and as he pulls away, he lets his eyes traverse the boutique, imagining you in every single piece. 

“Let’s start with this one,” he murmurs, reaching out to rub the cream satin on the mannequin between his fingers, already imagining the warmth of your body under it. 

Together, you make your way around the store, Seungcheol holding every negligee and babydoll and romper you pick together over his arm. It feels like he’s got most of the inventory by the time you decide to try things on, and he can only follow when you lead him to the changing rooms. 

He chose this boutique for a very specific reason - the pedestal and floor-to-ceiling trifold mirror that occupy each dressing room. There’s an armchair and a dressing screen placed in the largest, per his request, and after hanging up every piece in the corner where you can reach them, he takes his seat. 

The screen is translucent, with gold floral piping and shiny gossamer fabric stretched over each panel, your body just barely visible behind it as you get undressed. His heart skips a beat when you carefully drape your clothes over the top of the screen, and it starts to race as you change into your first set. 

Seungcheol fucking loves you in lingerie. He loves the way it outlines his favorite parts of you, the way it lovingly caresses your body just like his hands do, the way you automatically feel sexy and a little playful in it. You in lingerie is the most beautiful form of torment for him, and it’s a torment he’ll be lucky to endure for the rest of his life. 

“Ready?” You call out from behind the screen, and he clears his throat before responding, “‘m always ready for you, baby.”

Then you appear from behind the screen and step up onto the pedestal, and instantly, he knows he was lying. 

You’ve chosen a lilac romper first, with unlined lace on the top that clings to your luscious breasts and waist and tiny shorts on the bottom that graze the tops of your thick thighs. You smooth your hands along your body, lifting the hem of the shorts and letting them flutter down, your lips quirking in a small smile. 

It’s adorable that your first instinct was to show him rather than look in the mirror, but he wants to see the back as much as he wants you to see the front.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he instructs gently, leaning back in the chair and letting his legs spread. 

You carefully rotate on the pedestal, and Seungcheol wishes he could see your face as you take in your own beauty but he’s just as happy to let his eyes rove over your body from this new angle. 

The delicate lace dips with the rolls on your back and follows the gentle curve of your spine, and the chiffon of the shorts isn’t long enough to cover all of you, the crease where your ass meets your thighs visible just below the hem. He wants to bite you there, wants to leave imprints of himself all over you, wants to sink his teeth into your precious flesh and never let go. 

He'll be content with the diamond ring he put on your finger six months ago instead.

“Do you like it?” You ask softly, still facing away from him with a slight undercurrent of nervousness in your voice. 

He furrows his brows, wondering how you could still be nervous after three years of him looking at you like you’re an angel. But he’ll never not reassure you, so all he says is, “I love it, baby, you look fucking gorgeous.”

You spin and hop down from the pedestal, taking a few steps toward him and bracing yourself on his knees before leaning down for a kiss. He grins fondly and pouts for you, fighting to keep his hands to himself as the position pushes your perfect tits together. If he breaks now, there’s no way you’ll get through the rest of the lingerie, and he wants to make sure everything fits you perfectly before he calls the director back to package them all up. 

“Next,” you whisper into his mouth before pulling away and darting behind the dressing screen. 

He takes in a deep breath and rubs his hands up and down his thighs, trying to dispel the urge to follow you and take more than a peek. Maybe he was a bit overconfident in thinking he’d make it through all of the lingerie… 

A few different pieces should be enough for you to know your size, right?

Right, he nods to himself, barely sure that he can withstand this self-inflicted siege for two more outfits. 

He becomes even less sure when he hears you huffing and puffing behind the screen, presumably wriggling into something tight and form-fitting and fuck, does he love your form, especially when it’s outlined by mesh and lace and-

“Cheollie, can you help me with this one?” 

His eyes squeeze closed, just for a few seconds, before he gathers all of his remaining strength, stands, and ambles over to the corner. He does his best not to look at your body as he steps around the screen, knowing that if he sees you in an undone state, it’ll be enough to undo him. 

“I just can’t get the middle,” you turn your head slightly to speak to him, and he thumbs your cheek with an understanding noise, unable to manage words when he finally sees what you’ve got partially on. 

He can’t see the front, but because of the clasps, he can tell it’s a bustier. The white mesh molds to every curve and the blue piping highlights your waist and hips, drawing his eye toward the matching underwear, which, truly, are little more than ribbons joined together in a T-shape. 

He doesn’t let his gaze linger on the plump curve of your ass, brings it back up to the task at hand and manages to fasten the middle hook-and-eye closures even with his fingers trembling in desire and restraint. 

Usually when he’s finished doing something up for you, whether it’s the clasp of a necklace or the zipper of a dress, he squeezes your waist to let you know. Now, that’s not a smart move because once he starts touching you, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop. 

So he murmurs a low, “Done, baby,” and returns to his seat. You don’t come out immediately and he’s not sure why, but he doesn’t mind having this extra time to collect himself. 

Then you prance out in fucking thigh high stockings snapped into the garters attached to the bustier and he feels his mind go entirely blank. There’s no inner monologue, no loud swearing, no gushing compliments, just the image of you in a blue floral embroidered set with matching hosiery and the most minuscule panties he’s ever fucking seen. 

Your skin shines against the colors of the lingerie and the shape of the set embraces every hill and valley of your body, the dip of your waist and the beloved pudge of your belly and the fullness of your thighs and your breasts…

Your breasts in the balconette style bra have him salivating, have him aching to bury his head in the softness and just breathe you in, feel you pressed up against his cheeks, keeping him warm, keeping him safe. 

“Speechless?” You tease lightly, spinning on the stockinged pads of your feet to face the mirror. 

He can’t even respond to your little gibe, his thoughts riotous, wild with need. Your lush ass is all but bare, your flesh pushing against the tautness of the garters, his fingers itching to pull them just to watch the fat of your ass and thighs ripple as they snap back onto your skin. He feels like he could vibrate out of this chair, his self-control wavering in the wake of your divinity. 

He watches your smile slowly fade in the mirror, the heat in his blood spreading into yours, making you squirm on the pedestal until he gathers enough of his brain cells to say, “C’mere, darling.”

It’s not smart, making you come closer, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out any more than he can stop his hands from rising to grip your hips as soon as you get to him. You’re warm between his palms, cushy even with the mesh containing you, and it’s almost like he operates on autopilot as he drags the sides of your panties out from under the bustier and hikes them up. 

He pulls until you gasp, and he wants to look at your face but he can’t take his eyes off of the way your plush pussy is parted by the scrap of lacy fabric, the lips of your cunt popping out of the sides just like he wanted. Now, all the pressure is on your clit, and it’s easy to set his hands on your hips and pull you down, down, down until you sit on one of his thighs. 

Finally, he looks at you, his gaze lovingly traveling up your body, lingering on the swift rise and fall of your tits before at long last reaching your face. Your lips are parted, still shiny with your favorite gloss, and your brows are furrowed over hazy eyes, your lashes fluttering when he drags you forward and pushes you back. 

“Want you to cum like this,” he mutters, knowing you’re close enough to hear him and waiting for the protest he’s sure will follow. 

“Seungcheol! This is- we can’t- not here!” You sputter, pressing your hands to his chest as if you could hold him at bay. 

“And why is that?” He asks gently, grinding you back and forth again, watching as you start to lose your resolve. 

“Because this is someone’s store, it’s not… it’s not right,” your voice is breathy, quiet, your objection feeble. 

“You’re not wrong, honey, this is someone’s store. It’s our store, I bought it last week,” he says in between kisses to the tops of your breasts, smiling when he feels your chest heat up under his mouth. 

“You- you…” 

“Yeah, baby, I knew I’d want to fuck you here, and I knew you wouldn’t let me if it belonged to someone else, so I bought it and put your name on the lease.” 

You’re silent for a few ticks, and then he feels you grind into his thigh of your own volition. 

“Carry on,” you sigh, draping your arms around his neck in obvious assent. 

He grins and leans back, sliding further down in the chair so you have more room to move and gripping your hips tighter to guide you into going just a bit quicker. He flexes the muscle of his thigh, smirking when you tilt your head back and let out a tiny whimper. His smirk falls when you brace one hand at the top of his leg, dangerously close to his thickening cock, and lean forward into your thrusts to put more pressure on your clit. 

He loves to watch you take your pleasure like this, loves to feel your arousal dampen the material of his dress pants, loves to hear your little sounds as they escape your parted lips. He loves you, more than he ever thought possible, and he loves to make you cum almost as much. 

That’s why he shifts his grip to your ass, digs his fingers in deep, and pulls at your flesh to move you harder, faster against his leg. He knows time is passing but it doesn’t feel like it when he has you on top of him like this, all of his focus on you and the way you look and sound and feel. 

He can tell you’re getting close when your eyelids fall shut and your noises start to blend together, so he does what he knows will help send you over the edge - he talks to you. 

“My baby is so fucking pretty, huh? All dressed up just for me, just for your fiance. I can’t wait to marry you, make you my pretty fuckin’ wife. You’re already mine, I know that, but I want everyone else to know it too, know that I’m the only one who gets to touch you, love you, make you cum. And you are gonna cum for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

“Y-yeah, Cheollie, ‘m gonna cum for you,” you breathe out, your thighs clenching around his as you start to bounce. He helps lift you so you don’t strain your knees too much, loving the weight of you in his hands, in his lap. 

“And then you’re gonna put on one last thing, that pink babydoll dress, and I’m gonna fuck you in it, so don’t bother with the panties,” he says roughly, his voice low and greedy. 

You can only whine in response, your hips stuttering and your body tensing as you tumble over the edge. He doesn’t know where to look, his eyes darting between your juddering thighs and your heaving breasts and your sweet, sweet face, every perfect part of you reflecting the pleasure rushing through your system. 

When your orgasm has run its course, you wilt into him, dropping forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. He gives your ass one last loving squeeze before his hands migrate up to your back, rubbing soft circles and luxuriating in the feeling of your mesh encased curves. 

“You’re gonna have to help me peel all this off,” you mumble into his suit jacket, making him chuckle and bring one hand up to pet your hair. “With pleasure, honey.” 

You sit up after a few more minutes of snuggling, a grimace overtaking your face when you look down and see the wet patch you left on his thigh. These pants are dry-clean only but he doesn’t give a fuck, will proudly hand them over knowing that the stain is from you, his beautiful, responsive fiancee. 

“Got one more in you?” He asks gently, cupping your cheek and drawing you into a kiss before you have a chance to answer, hoping that he can sway you toward a yes. Humming, you drag your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver before you pull away to giggle lethargically and clarify, “Orgasms or wardrobe changes?” 

“Both,” he laughs easily. “Orgasms, if I can only pick one.” 

“I think I can muster enough energy for both in this instance,” you offer pragmatically, standing on shaky legs and shuffling off his thigh. 

He misses the warmth and weight of you immediately, but knows you getting up is a requirement if he wants to make good on his earlier promise. You turn and he unlatches the clasps along your spine, dragging his hands down your body and unsnapping the backs of your garters so you don’t have to twist around to reach them. He steals one more indulgent squeeze of your hips before rotating you back to face him and taking care of the front garters too. 

His fingers hook in the sides of your ruined panties and start to pull them down, his knuckles dragging along your soft skin until they fall on their own. Used to this by now, you step out of the panties and watch as he picks them up, carefully folds them, and places them in his breast pocket, leaving the fabric peeking out as if they’re a pocket square. 

With a kiss to his cheek, you disappear behind the screen again. He takes the opportunity to undo his pants and pull them down just far enough to release his cock, sighing at the relief of being unconstrained. He can hear you rifling through hangers to find the outfit he requested, and has to press a palm to his throbbing dick as he imagines you in it. 

Still, he’s unprepared for the impact you have on him when you shyly step out and up onto the pedestal clothed in pink lace so delicate and sheer, he can see every part of you. Your heavy breasts fill the soft, unlined cups, your nipples taut and peaked beneath the lace, making his fingers tingle with the desire to pinch, twist, pull. 

He forces his eyes to keep moving, to take in the rest of you. His gaze latches onto your stomach next, the way the dress grazes over the robust curve of it enough to make him wish his hands could do the same. 

He wants to leave your pussy for last but finds his gaze drawn between your legs, to the cushion of your pubic mound and the creases where it meets your thighs, those creases being some of his absolute favorite places to kiss. You’re just always so warm, and you smell so good, and feel even better. 

He’s cum there before, watched it pool and drip down the inside of your thigh, gathered it up with his fingers and fed it to you with rapturous eyes, and fuck if he doesn’t want to do it again. 

But he thinks he wants to cum inside you more, wants to fill you up and know you’ve got part of him within you, even if it’s only until he gets you home and into the bath. And then perhaps into more lingerie. 

First, he gets to fuck you, and he’s already got his plan for that in mind. 

“Come sit, honey,” Seungcheol pats his thighs in invitation, his eyes locked on the way your thighs rub together when you step down and walk to him. You take hold of his shoulders, lifting a leg to climb on top of him, and he stops you with his hands on your hips, his fingers clenching enough to ruffle the lace. 

“Not like that. Turn around, I want you to see,” he murmurs, waiting for you to rotate between his palms to pull you closer, your hands bracing on the armrests of the chair for balance as you start to bend. “Need me to stretch you out first, sweetheart?” 

“No,” you gasp out and shake your head, continuing, “I’m wet enough, I just wanna feel you.” 

So he grasps the base of his cock, holds it up for you, and starts tugging you down with the hand still on your hip, watching as your pussy slowly envelopes the head. His eyelids start to droop at the perfect pressure of you but he fights to keep them open, even as your walls cling to the thickness of him. He can feel you consciously relaxing your muscles, opening yourself up to accept him, and he thanks you with a kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze on the hip. 

Once he’s halfway inside, you take in a deep breath and sink the rest of the way down, until his pelvis is flush to your ass and he’s fully seated inside of you. Your pussy flutters around him, still trying to adjust to the width of his cock, every ripple of your muscles around him stealing just a bit more of his self-control. 

He knows you’re ready when you wriggle a bit in his lap to get more comfortable, and that’s when he grips your thigh and pulls it to rest on the other side of his knee, doing the same with your other leg until you’re spread out for him. He looks over your shoulder into the mirror, his eyes traveling along your tits, your stomach, your thighs, before landing on your pussy. The lacy pink fabric of your dress covers you but he can just barely see your cunt peeking through, and he murmurs, mainly to himself, “Nothing better than my baby in a babydoll.” 

Then he wraps his arms around you, one hand clutching your breast and the other bunching up the dress so he can see you clearly, and holds you in place as he draws his hips back as much as he can and fucks up into you. He doesn’t have a lot of room to really thrust but you like it deep and dirty, like when he grinds into you and makes you feel it, and more than that, you like being on display for him as he does it. 

You definitely are now, like this, with your legs held apart by his and his hand holding your lingerie up so you can both see the strain of your entrance around his thick cock, a sheen gathering on his balls when he pushes your wetness out with a deep grind of his hips. He’s obsessed with the picture you make, like something out of an obscene Renaissance painting, one he’d pay millions for if it meant you could see yourself through his eyes.

You’re his own personal Venus, a goddess of the highest order, and he’ll worship you in this life, the next, and in any that follow. 

His brand of worshiping just happens to include dressing you up like a doll and fucking you like you’re his only vice, which isn’t far from the truth. Seungcheol has everything a man could wish for - money, property, respect, authority - and he’d give it all up if he was forced to choose between maintaining that lifestyle and keeping you. 

Because what’s the point of any of it if he doesn’t have love? Someone with whom to share the wealth? He’s played the lonely millionaire before and that’s not a role he wants to reprise, not when he knows the incandescent happiness of coming home to you. 

And of cumming inside of you, that avaricious voice in his head whispers, chasing away his sentimental thoughts and replacing them with raw desire. Every nerve ending feels like a live wire, amplifying the impossible bliss of your wet pussy around his cock and your flawless body in his arms. 

He’s still grinding into you but he can tell you need more, so he hikes you up higher against his chest and plants his feet, giving him enough room to start pounding into you. He’s lost his view but that just lets him cut to the feeling, focus on your sounds and scent and searing hot cunt. He sucks open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of your shoulder, digging his teeth into the nape of your neck, unable to stifle the urge to consume you, to devour you whole.  

You raise your hand and reach behind you, sinking your fingers into his hair to pull him closer, your nails scratching along his scalp and sending zips of electric pleasure down his spine. With every thrust, he can feel that knot starting to tie itself, feel it cinching tighter and tighter as your walls ripple around him, but he’ll be damned if he lets himself cum before you. 

“Baby, hold this up for me,” he says roughly into your back, waiting for your free hand to grip the dress and take over so he can shift his fingers down between your legs. “Keep watching.”

You cry out as soon as his fingertips graze your clit, your pussy swallowing around him, drawing him in even deeper when he starts to swirl circles around the bundle of nerves. You’re slick and swollen beneath his fingers, and if he wasn’t so desperate to feel you cum on his cock, he’d make you cum on his tongue instead. 

He can save that for after the bath, he tells himself, devoting all of his attention to working you up to that edge and pushing you over. It won’t be long now, not with the way you’re squirming in his hold, your legs twitching on either side of his and your pussy leaking enough that he can feel your arousal dripping down his balls. 

He’ll never get enough of the way you respond to him, of how sensitive you are to his every move, of how you cradle him with both your body and your heart, and he’ll definitely never get enough of how it feels to have you break around him. 

He can feel it happening now, sense the wave as it overtakes you, pulling you under and spinning you out as he bullies his way through your trembling walls to fuck you through it, to elongate your euphoria as much as he can. When you melt against his chest, he knows it’s over, and that’s when he finally gives himself permission to lower you fully onto his cock, root deep inside of you, and let it all go. 

He can’t hold in the grunts and groans of pleasure, your name scattered through swears as he falls to pieces, his only anchor to this earth being your luxurious weight in his lap. His cum flows out in bursts, filling you to the brim, and he forces his eyes open just in time to watch in the mirror as a ring of white forms where he’s plugging you up. 

His cock starts to soften as he catches his breath and untenses his muscles, loosening his hold on you and petting at your flesh where he may have been gripping too tight. You sigh contentedly as he hugs you to him and murmurs, “So fuckin’ perfect, baby. Love you so goddamn much.” 

“Love you too, Cheollie. I’m glad you bought this place, the walk of shame would be beyond embarrassing if it wasn’t ours,” you mumble, exhaustion clear in your voice. 

He chuckles into your neck, presses a kiss to the curve where it meets your shoulder, and asks, “Ready for me to pull out?” 

You nod and he matches your pout in the mirror as he lifts your legs one at a time to rest in between his, massaging your inner thighs and hoping you won’t be too sore from having them spread so far apart for so long. You stand and bend on shaky knees so he can withdraw from you, and he’s quick to pull the panties from his breast pocket and start to push them inside, blocking his cum from flowing out. 

You’re used to this too so you just hum and arch your back, waiting patiently as he works the fabric in and takes a few seconds to indulge in the living art that is your plump pussy stuffed with panties. He pulls out a handkerchief from one of the pockets lining the inside of his suit and cleans you up gently, giving you a loving tap on the ass when he’s finished. 

You let him choose what you’ll wear out of the store, his eyes naturally gravitating to a white lace set that makes him think of your upcoming wedding. You can do it yourself but he latches the hook and eye closures on the bra for you anyway, kneeling in front of you to pull up the panties and leaning forward to bite the side and snap it back against your skin, just because he can. 

You giggle and pet his head in response, and he can’t help but look up at you with constellations in his eyes, his gaze full of stars that spell out his adoration for you, his devotion. 

He lets you finish getting dressed as he bags up some of the pieces, leaving the rest at the counter to be delivered to the house and waiting at the door for you. When you appear, you look perfectly put together, almost like he didn’t have his way with you at all. 

Then he grasps the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss and feels the indentations of his teeth, and nothing could stop the satisfied smile from stretching his lips. 

Seungcheol loves lingerie shopping with you. 

AN: inspired by this ask and @bbychocolat immediately saying lingerie shopping when i said i was going to write chubby!reader x cheol

Outfit 1 | Outfit 2 | Outfit 3

thank you for reading! pls reblog and lmk your thoughts 💖

My Masterlist

[delulujuls]

his eyes | mv33

hi! you asked about part two for the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess so i delivered (its still hot, fresh from the oven). i'm not sure if i like it but don't worry, for sure i will write something about the mad dutch duo in the future. but now enjoy this one!

summary: eyes can say a lot so where it comes to reveal feelings there is no place to hide

warnings: none, mentions of car accident

pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen

Max's eyes were beautiful.

They were always beautiful when they had small wrinkles around them caused by smiling. Always then, they were the color of a cloudless sky on a warm july morning. They were beautiful even when there was a storm raging inside. They were dark and agitated then, but still beautiful. But they were beautiful in a terrifying way, because at that moment there was no trace of a smile on Max's face, and the only warmth was the rage burning in his veins.

Y/N could have sworn she had never met another pair of eyes like Max's, so whenever she could, she allowed herself to drown in them. Even during arguments, when they were shouting and calling each other names, his eyes were beautiful. However, they lost all their beauty when they were struck by fear.

When Max was scared, his eyes faded. The july sky was covered with clouds and the turbulent sea was shrouded in fog. Y/N stopped noticing the fear in Max's eyes when he managed to break free from his toxic father and their karting years ended, replaced by Formula 1.

However, on that day when she woke up in the ambulance, the first thing she encountered was the cloudy sky in his eyes. Max wasn't scared; he was terrified to the core. When, after a few seconds, his brain acknowledged that his friend was alive, he sighed with relief. The sky began to clear.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those deceitful eyes of yours."

Verstappen smiled, squeezing his friend's hand.

"What happened?"

She asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and fumes had taken their toll.

"You had an accident and lost consciousness. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"Accident is an understatement," a paramedic interjected, removing her drip from the hanger "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."

Y/N blinked several times and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have been truly unpleasant.

"How's the car?"

"Just needs a wipe."

She rolled her eyes at her friend's words, and a moment later, she coughed. Quickly, she put her oxygen mask back on.

"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still holding her hand. "The most important thing is that you're back with us."

"At what cost? At least, being unconscious spared me from looking at you."

She replied sarcastically, pulling the mask slightly away from her face. Max chuckled quietly at her words, relieved that she still had the strength to joke after everything. She returned his smile. She still didn't fully grasp what had happened or what she had been involved in, but the feeling inside her body told her it must have looked bad. The last time she saw fear in Max's eyes was years ago.

But something had changed after that. Since her accident, she noticed that Max's eyes looked at her differently. In a way she had never seen before, a way she couldn't compare to anything else. They looked at her with unimaginable gentleness and tenderness. They looked at her with love.

"You're damn stubborn, you know that?"

Max said when barely two weeks after the accident Y/N, using crutches, appeared in his garage. He didn't say it maliciously; he was just genuinely worried. He put down his water bottle and approached his friend, gently hugging her and pulling up a chair for her.

"I'm glad to see you too."

She replied, leaning her crutches against the chair and sitting on the workbench.

Max sighed and shook his head. Since the accident, Y/N had been a constant source of concern for him.

"What?" she asked, glancing at him, "I'm not getting into the car, don't worry."

"You should be resting."

"I am resting, see?" Y/N pointed to her makeshift seat, "More comfortable than a bed."

Max was about to reply, but he was called to take his place in the car. Friends exchanged glances one last time and as he left the garage, Y/N hopped off the bench and approached Christian's workstation, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at her and handed her headphones.

"Good to see you, Y/N."

"Some would prefer me not to be here."

She replied, glancing at the monitor. Christian smiled at the thought of Max, who was very concerned about his friend.

"He was really worried about you, like we all were."

"I guess I'm just not used to Verstappen seeing more than the tip of his own nose."

The man laughed at her words. She was absolutely right; Max's reputation could be unpredictable. However, lately, his behavior had changed noticeably, evident to everyone in the paddock.

When the training session ended, friends returned to the hotel. Max kept pace with Y/N, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moving on crutches wasn't problematic for her, though.

"Don't look at me like I'm an eighty-year-old grandma."

She said, seeing his gaze as they reached her room and she plopped onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not looking at you like that. We both know that you are slower than this only in a car."

Y/N grabbed a pillow and threw it at him and he laughed, effortlessly catching it. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, but Y/N lowered her gaze when she noticed his eyes doing it again. Looking at her in that way.

"Christian said you were worried" the girl said, after a moment gathering enough courage to look at him again, "Really?"

"I thought I was pulling a corpse out of that wreck. Of course I was worried."

She lowered her gaze again, focusing on her hands. Max squeezed the pillow in his hands and sat next to her.

"Thank you."

She said softly. Even though she had thanked him earlier, she knew that no amount of gratitude would match the level of his deed. She turned her head towards him and their gazes met again. He smiled.

"I knew you'd do the same. You've always got my back, no matter how angry you are with me."

Y/N snorted and nodded. Max was absolutely right. Although some time had passed since the accident, they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. Not about the accident itself, but about what changed between them. Because something definitely had changed.

"Can I ask you something?"

She spoke up, glancing at him. He nodded.

"Did what happened change anything between us?"

"What do you mean?"

Max tensed a bit. Although he didn't move an inch, after so many years spent together, you could pick up every detail.

"You're behaving differently toward me."

She explained. He looked at her attentively.

"You're more affectionate. I've never felt something like that from you before."

Max lowered his head and interlaced his fingers. He wasn't sure how to put into words what had been swirling in his head for some time and growing stronger with each passing day. So, he decided to go for honesty.

"When I was pulling you out of the car, I had no idea if you were alive. Riding in the ambulance, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to you again and apologize for that senseless argument."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.

"When you woke up and looked at me, I thought I'd cry with happiness. That's when I realized how much you mean to me and how important you are."

Y/N stayed silent, trying to absorb all the words he had spoken. She could feel the emotions quickening her pulse, so she decided to lighten the mood a bit and probe whether they were on the same page.

"If you had kissed me, I probably would have woken up faster."

Max felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. He blinked several times and looked at his friend. She just smiled slightly.

"Kissed?"

She nodded.

For a moment, Max struggled to open his mouth to say something, but to no avail. He was in too much shock.

"Are you setting me up now?"

"I'm not setting you up, Max."

"Yes, like if I had kissed you back then, you would have woken up faster. But only to punch me in the face."

She laughed and fell back on the pillows, pretending to be dead.

"You have to check it yourself."

Max wondered for a moment if she was joking, but he didn't have time for further contemplation. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. He leaned on his elbow next to her head and looked at her face. Her gaze and a faint smile indicated that it wasn't just a silly joke.

Without hesitation, Max lightly touched her cheek and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him around the neck, returning the kiss.

When they separated for a moment to catch their breath, the eyes of the two met again and Y/N once again allowed herself to drown in the boundless blue of his eyes. The turbulent sea was calm and the july, sunny sky was cloudless. Everything was fine.

Everything was just how it supposed to be.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

  Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

  You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

  Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

  It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

  “Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

  “Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

  “It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

  “Branzino.”

  “It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap. 

  “Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already. 

  Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion. 

  He was so proud and in love.

  You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

  “She was stretching.” He correctly deduced. 

  “Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

  Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

  “Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

  Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

  “Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

  “No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

  “Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

  “Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

  “I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

  “And since she’s craving it─”

  “She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

  Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

  The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

  “You read it in a book, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ask your doctor about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

  You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

  “Branzino in the middle of winter.”

  “It’s what she wants!”

  “It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

  You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye. 

  “Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

  “You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

  Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you. 

  That damn fish was so worth it.

[smoke-and-silver]

The Ghouls + Rut Season

Headcanons of the Ghouls in rut, as requested! This is for the current + recent ghouls. Happy to do previous eras upon request.

General / All characters:

Ghouls get a shiny horn upgrade just before rut: the outer layers shed as the horns grow bigger . You'll see them rubbing against things and polishing their horns a lot during this time as the outer layers flake off to reveal new horn underneath.

The ghouls are feverish and hot their entire cycle as the rut raises their body temperature.

There's a lot of tussling as their hormones have them clacking horns and sparring like deer. Some brawls can look or sound scary to humans, but it's all in good fun to them. They're just roughhousing to show off.

That's just within the pack, though. If someone outside of the ministry makes a move on their desired mate, it can get pretty gnarly.

Ghouls under the cut. Obviously NSFW.

Aether

The most subtle. A bit flushed and clammy but otherwise you wouldn't guess anything had changed.

It's very easy for him to get distracted, though. You give him a quick hug at breakfast and his cereal bowl is abandoned as he follows after you with his tail flicking.

Quintessence ghouls have a hazy scent during rut, like dark amber. Aether is the most fond of scenting. He does it every time you're canoodling in some secluded corner of the cathedral. He's not possessive, but he likes knowing that the other ghouls smell him on you.

He does get more protective. He's territorial of the ministry, marking the outside pillars with his horns to warn other demons away. Some unfamiliar men visit on business, and he chokes back an instinctual growl that starts to rise from his throat when he sees them shaking hands with you.

He doesn't spar much. One, because he's not generally aggressive, and two, because he's very large, and the other ghouls hesitate to challenge him.

It's an evening in the main hall when he finally flexes a bit. The heat in his veins is getting to him as he watches you from across the room, and a petty spat between two other ghouls is getting loud and irritating.

The demons bump your chair roughly in their scuffle and Aether has had enough. He buts in with his horns and growls at them to "knock it off". His voice is about two octaves deeper than usual. The surprised ghouls stumble back, and then slink away sheepishly.

Well, naturally you want to show your gratitude after that very attractive display, and the room is empty now...

Aurora

The MOST likely to brawl. Her claws are already rated E for Everyone and during rut it's amped up to 11. She'll tussle with anyone. Sometimes she'll sneak up to another ghoul and nip at them just to instigate it.

Remember that it's mostly just play to them. Nothing to worry about. She does LOVE to show off for you though, and is usually the one victorious.

If she were seriously fighting someone you would know, as real threats or serious challengers are quickly cowed by one of her deafening lion-like roars.

She's like a furnace during rut. You can feel the warmth coming off her. Her cheeks are constantly ruddy like she's just ran a mile.

Utterly insatiable. Most every night she's at your door tapping and scratching at it with her claws until you let her in. If she's feeling extra romantic she'll come in through the window instead.

[gore/bloody] Girl will straight up present her defeated opponents to you. The ministry has many enemies and she has much less restraint during rut. She has absolutely presented you with a severed head like a cat leaving a dead bird at its owner's feet.

You can't even help with congregation without seeing her in the pews, waiting to pounce the moment the sermon is over. She waves at you cheekily when you meet her eyes.

Don't think she's not tender! She's incredibly sweet with you every time you make love--and she insists on calling it that, "making love".

When you're not getting hot and heavy she's still locking lips with you. You've both been caught and scolded multiple times for making out when you're supposed to be working. She just needs to feel your hands on her during rut and, you're not opposed to all the extra attention.

Cirrus

Not interested in sparring or wrestling with anyone. Brawling doesn't interest her and if someone threatens you or the ministry she's just going for the throat. There's not much "challenge" to it.

Although... if you seem interested when the other ghouls spar, if she feels like it'll impress you or make you happy... well, she'll do it just to see you get all excited and aroused.

She kind of "takes care of" herself at first, not wanting to burden you with her heightened libido. When you assure her that you can handle it though, all bets are off. She pauses for a moment and starts stepping towards you, backing you against the wall right then and there...

She likes to mark you the most out of everyone. You are absolutely littered with hickeys and lovebites. She thinks it's so pretty to see you laid out naked in front of her with all of her marks on you. It's an added bonus if someone else gets to see it peeking out from your clothes, too.

She likes a little more ceremony to her 'mating' than most ghouls in their delirious lusty ruts, often bringing something to present you with before she drags you off for some privacy, even if it's something as simple as a rose.

But some nights, some nights it all reaches a boil--the hormones, the heat, your scent still clinging to her sheets--and she simply goes feral. She crawls into your bed and takes you wildly, no words even forming on her lips, just deep growls and broken, guttural infernal speech.

Cumulus

She doesn't typically initiate brawls but she's quite excited to participate in them and loves it when someone challenges her. They had better be prepared though because she is the most muscular ghoulette and knows how to use it.

She's especially excited to brawl when you're around and it gives her a chance to impress you. She'll stop mid-fight while she has her opponent pinned and gleefully wave to you, hoping that you're enjoying the show.

Yes, she flexes for you. Everything in her system right now is telling her to impress you and she takes any chance to start removing her shirt to show you the guns.

Oh man, this stage equipment is heavy and she's getting sooo hot moving it around!

Oh no, the windows needed a wash and her shirt is sooo wet! She can't possibly leave it on now.

Not very territorial or anything like some of the others, but very eager to scent you. Her smell is like a spring breeze, like clover, and she loves to rub it on you whenever she can.

She's on you constantly. Doesn't care if you're in the middle of cooking or prayer, she's pulling you flush against her and purring raunchy things in your ear, giggling and nipping at your neck until she's convinced you to have some fun.

She's not private about it. Unless you would prefer otherwise, she likes to show you off right in front of the other ghouls, placing you on the counter right there so she can please you with her strong fingers.

Dewdrop

The poor man is downright feverish the entire cycle. He's flushed and breathing heavily and his hormones and sparring instincts make him snippy with the other males.

Oh, but he's so good for you. He melts into your touch when you hold his face in your hands as if it soothes all the fire in him.

As if he isn't lewd enough on a normal day, he's downright filthy during his rut. He has the most impure ideas for every piece of furniture in the cathedral and he relays them to you in detail.

You two are forcibly excused from mass when he starts feeling you up right in the middle of it. He'd let you have him right there in the aisle if you weren't opposed to it, onlookers be damned.

When you catch him jacking himself off he doesn't stop, he slows down a little to give you a show. He loves to do it while you're watching. You can give him a hand or just sit and watch, either way he's begging you to go further afterwards. He needs you inside of him or needs to be inside of you.

Not super territorial, but he does love sparring. Wrestling with a friend is a good way to blow off steam and he doesn't mind if he looks cool kicking someone's ass and manages to impress you.

It's really hard for him to focus on much else but you when he's flooded with hormones like this. He can't help it. All that's on his mind day and night is feeling you against him and burying himself inside of you.

But when he eats you out or sucks you off, that's when he really loses his mind. He's already so painfully horny and the scent of your sex totally overtakes him and makes his mind hazy. You're not leaving for the night.

Don't hold it against him if he's a little sappier than usual, or if his kisses are a little longer. It's not just about mating; rut makes him needy for comfort and attention too. It takes a lot of energy out of these ghouls, and often leaves them sore, so the extra comfort means a lot to him right now.

Mountain

Obviously the earth ghouls rut the most. The elk of the forest are where the term comes from. He sheds velvet from his horns during the season and the look of blackened demon blood dripping from horns is pretty sick.

His rack is hands down the most impressive and lets him stand up to even Aether in a duel. He is giddy if you compliment the horns, tail flicking around happily knowing his appearance pleases you.

The most territorial, the most willing to brawl, the most protective. Earth ghouls have the strongest rut instinct. It's hard for him to even see you talking to another ghoul without daydreaming about taking you right in front of them. The daydream gets him hard and flustered and he sheepishly approaches you to ask for some "help".

An incident occurs when a visiting diplomat kisses your hand and a hormone-fueled Mountain has him backed up to the wall in seconds, gnarly horns at the man's throat and growls rumbling from deep in the demon's chest.

You manage to soothe him by petting his chest and asking him to stand down. After a few moments he reluctantly releases the man, who scurries off.

His head clears and Mountain quickly apologizes, but honestly, it was the hottest thing ever, and you're pulling him in to make out. By the time the diplomat tattles about being "attacked by a demon" you've already backed Mountain into the nearest chair to ride him.

It's part of his mating display to show that he can provide. He'll lead you out into the woods where he's set up a spot to sit together and brought more food than you can eat, but he's eager to watch you eat it, fill up on it. He hopes if you're satisfied that you'll accept him and let him pleasure you.

Phantom

Poor, poor sweet boy. It hits him the hardest. He is absolutely the most sensitive. Even feeling up his arm or kissing his cheek a few times gets him worked up. Smile at him across the room long enough and he'll get hard, honestly.

He's embarrassed to approach you about it at first, so you'll have to encourage him. He's quite enthusiastic once you reassure him that you don't mind, though.

He finds it fun to engage in some of the sparring matches, but honestly he's kind of inexperienced in fighting and gets thrown around easily. He's such a good sport about it though and he's laughing most of the time, so it puts everyone in a good mood.

His scent is very subtle and his horns pretty simple and small, so he tries to groom himself really nicely, hoping you'll still enjoy his appearance. Maybe puts a little soft perfume or cologne on hoping it will help entice you.

Your scent makes him crazy. It distracts him instantly when you step into the room. He can track you down anywhere in the ministry, every instinct in his body driving him blindly towards the sweet smell. You don't really hear him come in and so you jump a little when his arms slip around you and he buries his face in your neck to breathe you in.

Please let him have you. His voice is low and breathy as he begs you to let him breed you, or to breed him. You feel so warm against him it makes his head swim. His hands are shyly nudging under your shirt as he tells you how badly he needs it.

His libido is highest at night, when the ministry falls quiet. He feels terrible keeping you awake but you're so pretty laid out on your bed with the silver moonlight from your window illuminating your soft body, and he's so painfully hard.

[kink/somno warning] He'd never think of the idea himself, but if you offered to let him relieve his urges while you sleep, he's so grateful. He worships your body with kisses, always cleans you up perfectly, and always showers you with praise and thanks the next morning.

Rain

Pretty flushed and sensitive during his rut, though not so much as Phantom. He's very pliant when you approach him, willing to let you pull him away somewhere or climb up on his lap any time you want.

Beware that he has the most endurance and he will overstimulate and breed the fuck out of you. He's sweet and passionate but there's an unavoidable mess after your long sessions. You both need a bath afterwards and he ends up taking you in there too.

He makes a good little love nest in his room and honestly just keeps you there the whole cycle if you'll allow it. You don't have to do a thing. He'll keep you fed and groom you and all you have to do is lay there and be his good baby and let him pleasure you.

Not much for the sparring like other ghouls but he likes to egg the others on mischievously. Sometimes he'll nip at someone while they're not looking and pin it on another ghoul. Then he'll use the ensuing brawl as a distraction to drag you off somewhere.

--and, sometimes that is literal. When his hormones are really raging he'll just throw you over his shoulder, or bind your hands with the nearest thing he can find and quite literally drag you away, while telling you everything he's about to do once you're secluded.

Your excited giggles and little squeals make his heart flutter.

He is just as excited when you take him just as roughly. You can tie his hands to the headboard and he's already squirming with an eager, breathy "yes, yes!" escaping his lips before you've even climbed atop him.

He is so vocal when you do sink down on his cock and ride him. You're so warm and he's so sensitive right now. He does not care who in the ministry hears his absolutely whorish moans.

Swiss

As if he wasn't already unhinged.

The way he writhes and ruts against the floor on stage? Imagine him flooded with demonic hormones and out of his mind horny.

Wait, that's still how he normally is. Imagine that doubled. Mans will literally grind against your leg like a dog.

He's dying to pleasure you, honestly. It's a common sight to see him on his knees in front of you, panting with his tongue out as he waits for you to ride his face. He wants to drown in the scent of your sex, squished between your thighs.

He is constantly hard, his cock straining against his pants almost 24/7. He'll start to calm down and then he catches your scent on the air and he's stiff again. He tries to wear looser clothes during rut.

Of course, he loves to spar. He's already rowdy on a daily basis, he loooooves when rut rolls around and he gets to roughhouse with the other ghouls. It's a very nice bonus that he gets to show off for you, naturally!

Which brings us to territorial instincts. Swiss is the farthest from aggressive usually, but his rut is strong enough that you get to see more of the truly ghoulish side of him. He's very growly with strangers coming near you. You've never seen that toothy grin twist into a snarl before, but you see it now when you're out in public and some man presses too close to you for Swiss' liking.

You don't think you've ever heard such a noise from him, such a deep and guttural growl, but it... really does something for you. You hurry him home, both for the public's safety and because you need to ride him. He is overjoyed to fulfill your request.

Cumming inside of you is already his favorite thing in the world, if and when you allow him. He will literally beg for it now, his face flushed, sweaty hair clinging to his skin, his voice hoarse. Please let him breed you.

[bxyp]

GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS / Jujutsu Kaisen | 呪術廻戦

SYNOPSIS. General descriptions of the characters if they were in a relationship.

「 SFW + NSFW 」 separated for two parts.

SFW > safe for work; does not contain any sexual content and/or violence.

NSFW > not safe for work; contain sexual content and/or violence.

WARNING/S. GENDER NEUTRAL READER. violence, death (mention), sex, blowjob, oral sex, oral giving (reader), exhibitionism (technically), mutual masturbation, male organs mentioned (cock, dick and etc.).

CHARACTER/S. > Itadori Yuji, Maki Zen'in, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro, Uraume.

W.C. > 1.4k

𝙁𝙀𝙈 𝘿𝙉𝙄 & 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄 | 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙁𝙐𝙇 18+ 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙐𝙏

Itadori Yuji | 虎杖悠仁

「 SFW 」 PRE SHIBUYA ARC | Yuji would undoubtedly rank among the epitomes of an ideal boyfriend. Cute, cheerful and optimistic—a perfect boyfriend. With his extroverted nature, you will have to deal with his bursts of energy as well as times when he will be particularly affectionate. Picture him as the embodiment of a loyal golden retriever—a true 'puppy boyfriend' in every sense. While Yuji's extroverted tendencies may manifest in bursts of lively enthusiasm, he also possesses moments of profound tenderness, enveloping his partner in warmth and affection. He gracefully inspires his partner to emerge from their cocoon, gently coaxing them towards a world of shared joy and adventures.

POST SHIBUYA ARC | Yuji carries the weight of profound loss, having witnessed the death of numerous friends. Scarred by these harrowing experiences, his instinctive reaction is to protect those he cares about. Consequently, he may inadvertently resort to pushing away those closest to him—a misguided attempt rooted in love and a genuine desire to protect. So you would need some time to reasure him that you aren't leaving any time soon…

Maki Zen'in | 禪院真希

「 SFW 」 PRE SHIBUYA ARC | Maki personifies resilience, bearing the burden of her own burdens and shouldering everything with unwavering strength. Yet beneath her reserved façade lies a heart that beats with deep care, though she may be hesitant to admit it openly. For your sake, Maki tries to break down the barriers she has carefully erected, which is a testament to the depth of her affection. Gently showing vulnerability. Every crack in her steely resolve serves as a testament to the strength of her affection, a silent plea for understanding and from you acceptance.

DURING CULLING GAME ARC | Maki finds herself haunted by the tragic loss of her twin sister, a wound that cuts deep into her heart and soul. Determined to shield herself from further heartache, Maki naturally avoids getting too close to people emotionally. She puts up strong walls around herself, using them like a shield to stop herself from the sorrowful of potential loss. She is trying to push you away, fearing that the death may once again claim the person she holds most dear.

Ryomen Sukuna | 両面宿儺

「 SFW 」 PRE CULLING GAME ARC | Beware of the King of Curses, because kindness is generally rare in his heart. Sukuna, with his menacing appearance and chilling aura, is not one to easily succumb to the tender embrace of romance. In his world, love is a foreign concept, a concept he has never shared or felt the need to develop. If Sukuna feels attracted to you in a way that is beyond his understanding, don't expect his true emotions to be revealed quickly. Love, with all its complexities and vulnerabilities, is uncharted territory for him. He is a mystery, shrouded in frost, his heart covered in layers of impenetrable ice. Patience becomes your greatest ally in unraveling the enigma that is Sukuna. With each step forward, you tread cautiously, mindful of the thorns that line the path to his heart.

DURING CULLING GAME ARC | Even if Sukuna is wary of his newfound emotions, don't expect him to give you special treatment just because you've captured his interest. Sukuna is not sentimental and does not provide frivolous favors. He demands proof of your worth, demanding that you demonstrate your character and earn his respect through your actions. His admiration is a hard-won treasure bestowed upon those who prove themselves capable of navigating the treacherous.

「 NSFW 」 THE HEIAN ERA | Sukuna is definitely not an easy lover. He will squeeze the maximum out of you. Using your body, sometimes even without your consent, because in his understanding, at the moment when you gave him your heart, you also gave him your whole body, letting him do any indecency. He is not a pervert and prefer to do things the old and simple way. Although sometimes he asks Uraume to stretch you, since Sukuna’s cocks are also bigger than usual, so careful preparation is required so that you are not simply torn in a halves. There is hardly any tenderness in this process. Most often, this is just an impulse in which he can fulfill exclusively his desires, literally grinding into you until he himself is satisfied. So expect long nights since he got stamina and a lot of stress to take out (on you).

(yes, I'm a believer that Sukuna got two dicks, don't blame me for that.)

Toji Fushiguro | 伏黒甚爾

「 SFW 」 DURING HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC | Toji is plagued by deep-seated commitment issues, a restless wanderer who flits from one fleeting romance to another with reckless abandon. His primary focus lies in material gain, money, with little regard for the emotional entanglements that accompany lasting relationships. For him, love is but a passing fancy. However, amidst his nomadic lifestyle, there exists a rare exception—a woman (Megumi's mother) who once managed to capture his fleeting attention. Though elusive, the memory of her lingers in the recesses of his mind, a testament to the possibility of a deeper connection.

DURING HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC | It's going to take a lot of time and thinking for him to figure out his feelings and realize that he wants things that aren't just about money or quick fun. He needs to face his fears and doubts, and think about the idea that maybe, just maybe, life is about more than just work as a mercenary or have fun for a short time.

「 NSFW 」 DURING HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC | Toji is a selfish lover, always putting his own desires first when it comes to being close with someone. He's used to getting what he wants whenever he wants it, and he doesn't feel bad about going after what feels good. His needs come first because he's spent his life focused on pleasing himself and getting things right away. Underneath that self-centered exterior, there's a lot going on. Even though he's all about his own pleasure, he's got a way of being gentle yet strong when he's with someone intimately. His touch leaves a lasting impression on the person he's with. He can gently stroke your hair while your lips are at the base of his dick. If you have difficulty breathing, maybe stop and not fist your hair in his hand, using your throat for his pleasure, while you drolling all over his cock…

Uraume | 裏梅

「 SFW 」 PRE CULLING GAME ARC | Uraume is an embodiment of unwavering loyalty, their existence intricately intertwined with the service and devotion to their master, a bond forged over countless centuries. For them, love was a foreign concept, relegated to the annals of distant memory as they dutifully fulfilled their role. When feelings of attraction begin to stir within Uraume, they find themselves grappling with emotions long dormant, their heart encased in the frost of ages past. The idea of love is a foreign and unfamiliar terrain.

DURING CULLING GAME ARC | As Uraume's feelings blossom into an undeniable force, they find themselves faced with a daunting decision—to confront their master and seek permission to pursue the depths of their newfound love. This is no small feat, for their allegiance to their master is unwavering, and the prospect of disobeying even a perceived slight is unthinkable. In their plea, Uraume makes it clear that they hold their master's wishes above all else, and they would never dare to act in defiance of their authority. Yet, they cannot deny the overwhelming pull of their emotions, and they humbly request the opportunity to pursue love while remaining ever faithful to their master's will.

「 NSFW 」 DURING CULLING GAME ARC | Urauma's devotion does not end with their master's permission to love. They would definitely ask permission to have a more personal relationship with you. Also, if the King of Curses told Urauma to give your body to him for pleasure, Urauma would take it as an incredible compliment since even their master liked your body. But besides this, Uraume isn't so cold in terms of sex life; they pay more attention to your pleasure than to their own. Usually your sexual contact involves mutual masturbation, for Uraume this is quite personal. Since for them, their body is like a temple and letting another person in is quite difficult for them.. Their movements are careful but quite demanding, not devoid of feelings.

MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3 | TWITTER

���𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔰𝔱𝔶𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨 𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯?

[justabrunettewhowrites-stuff]

Can you do a Clarisse fic where she meets ur mother and its like based on that one Annabeth and Sally fanart where Sally's like "My son wouldn't hurt a fly." And Annabeth is like "But he would kill a man." And Sally's like "Of course he would.I raised him." But wirh fem reader??

'First Impression'

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

Clarisse stood nervously at the entrance of your house, holding a bouquet of flowers she insisted on bringing for your mother. As she stepped inside, she couldn't help but glance around, her tough exterior momentarily softened by the unfamiliar surroundings. Your mother, a sweet yet formidable woman, welcomed Clarisse with a warm smile.

The two exchanged pleasantries, and soon enough, they found themselves in the kitchen.The tension was palpable as Clarisse tried to find common ground.

However, to her surprise, your mother seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. She started by asking about Camp Half-Blood and Clarisse's experiences there. Clarisse, usually reserved, found herself opening up about her challenges and triumphs.

As you excused yourself to fetch some drinks, leaving the two alone, you couldn't help but wonder how the conversation would unfold. Clarisse genuinely admired your mother's strength because she knew your mother had raised you alone as you told her all about it and you had a feeling they would get along.

In the kitchen, you overheard snippets of their conversation. Your mother's laughter echoed through the air, mingling with Clarisse's gruffer tones. You couldn't help but smile, relieved that things seemed to be going well.

"Your daughter, she's somethin' else. Strong and kind," Clarisse said, attempting to express her respect. "Beautiful and considerate..."

Your mother chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "She gets it from her old lady. I raised her to be tough but fair."

As your mother reached for a sharp knife to cut some carrots, her movements deliberate and confident. Clarisse couldn't help but notice the ease with which she handled the blade.

"She's a special one,isn't she?" Your mother's eyes held a warmth that only a mother could convey.

Clarisse, usually stoic and guarded, couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, she is. I've never met anyone like her."

Your mother spoke again, her tone taking on a more matter-of-fact approach. "I taught her that there's a time for kindness and a time for strength. Life's not always easy, and my girl knows how to navigate through it."

Clarisse nodded, her respect for both you and your mother deepening. "She's lucky to have someone like you."

Your mother chuckled, her eyes glinting with pride. "I'm the lucky one. She's grown into a remarkable young woman, and I'm proud to call her my daughter."

Returning with refreshments, you found them deep in conversation.Your mother turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eye, saying, "My daughter wouldn't hurt a fly."

Clarisse smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "But she would kill a man."

Your mother chuckled,amused "Of course she would.I raised her." As she spoke,she used that same sharp knife, effortlessly slicing through carrots with practiced precision.Clarisse watched with admiration, finding the display oddly cool.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at the exchange. It was as if your worlds were colliding in the most unexpected yet heartwarming way. Clarisse, usually tough and unyielding, seemed to soften in the presence of your mother.

As the evening unfolded, you all sat around the dinner table, sharing stories and laughter. The connection between your mother and Clarisse went beyond your expectations. It wasn't just the strength they shared, but a mutual respect and understanding.

Later, as you and Clarisse prepared to leave, your mother pulled you aside, her eyes filled with pride and love. "I like her," she whispered, squeezing your hand. "She's good for you."

You nodded, grateful for the acceptance and support. Clarisse, standing nearby, caught the tender moment. In that simple gesture,she knew she made a good impression.

Later that night, as you and Clarisse left your mother's home, Clarisse couldn't help but express her admiration. "Your mom's pretty badass, you know that?"

You smiled "I know.She likes you,you know?And my mother isn't always impressed easily,and especially not at first either."

Clarisse chuckled "I hoped she would.I'm glad it all went well.And we should visit again soon.No we will visit again soon!" It seems she was genuinely happy and glad your mother liked her and she was pretty excited as she ended up blabbering about your mother and what they spoke about all the way back to camp.

A/N:Clarisse and reader's mom are besties fr.It's canon,it happens bc I said so.

[wileys-russo]

cold snap II l.williamson x reader

I have no idea where this came from or what it really is besides a whole loft of softness cold snap II l.williamson x reader

the early winter cold snap came as no surprise to anyone who'd spent a few years living in england, and if you'd lived there your entire life it was just another unfortunate but expected consequence of the dreary uk weather.

that wasn't to say that though you always knew it coming that it wasn't unpleasant, from the plummeting temperatures, icy roads, snow covered yards, frosted windows and the icy chill of the wind as it pricked at any and every sliver of skin it could find like tiny little pin pricks.

but though it had its downsides there were some perks to the temperature drop, to you the key thing being the fashion. you'd always loved the feeling of being bundled up in a multitude of clothing. hoodies and jackets and coats and scarves and beanies, you had it all and would near drown yourself in layers like a burrito.

not that you really needed them when you had the best defence against the cold you could ever hope for, leah.

leah who loathed the cold, hated the temperature drop and detested winter with all her might. any chance she got she'd whisk you both off for a weekend away somewhere warm, which was seldom given her career choice and insane schedule.

but the best defence against the cold snap was her body pressed up against yours, arms tightly squeezing you as you'd melt into her embrace, warmth flooding your body as her rosy pink lips gently peppered tender loving kisses against any sliver of skin they could as if trying to protect it from the incoming cold.

it was routine to find yourselves wrapped up together in a mountain of blankets on the sofa wearing one anothers hoodies and limbs entangled. your body cradled between leahs legs as her hands would creep up your top to find your stomach, tracing gentle patterns on the skin with her fingertips.

the gentle lull of her heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of her chest would reward you with a sense of safety and security you knew you'd never find with anyone else, not that you ever felt the need to test the theory.

leah was perfect, and she was yours as much as you were hers.

you'd always been a morning person by nature especially having valued your studies as a teenager you were always early to school, hidden away in the library with your nose buried in a book or scribbling down notes.

leah who was your best friend at the time ribbed you relentlessly for it. but the blonde was hardly ever on time for class herself and you'd often teased she was even late to her own birth which her mum roared laughing at.

but over the years you'd tried to break her out of her sleeping habits leah learned that those little pockets of time alone with you in the library before school were some of her most treasured memories.

she'd watch you over the top of the book she was pretending to read, eyes flickering down to the page when you'd look up and almost catch her with a smile.

leah loved how you looked those mornings, your eyebrows furrowed and glasses nearly slipping off the end of your nose as you'd quietly mumble along to what you were reading, finger tracing along the words as you went.

to leah you'd always been an anchor point. reliable and dependable and endlessly endearing, and yet always seeming just out of reach as you'd flit from relationship to relationship never really settling down with anyone long enough to allow them to get to know you.

but that was where leah knew she'd always won because there wasn't a single part of you that you'd not opened up and shared with her, and much to the infuriation of your partners over the years leah was always your go to person for everything and anything, and the first person you'd go to with any sort of news good or bad.

it didn't take leah long to realise that she was in love with you, but fearing that if she stuck her foot into the rotating door of partners you'd spun over the years that her feelings might not be shared and she'd be rejected or worse lose you entirely, so it took her a long time to be honest with you.

her mum had known of leahs true feelings for years and was forever encouraging leah to open herself up and be upfront with you, and there were too many times to count where leah was sure she was about to do it but then she'd chicken out right at the last minute.

but as leahs football career began to grow and afternoon trainings and weekend games turned into her missing days and sometimes weeks of school for camps, tournaments and academy commitments it had finally clicked.

you were just as much in love with leah as she was with you, though neither of you were yet to actually realise this.

but what you did both learn was that distance makes the heart grow fonder and the more time you had to spend apart the more you silently yearned for one another.

it was your final year of high school and leah had just returned from a tournament in morocco with the england under 19's squad. with the yearly cold snap having just kicked in and the blonde having coming from scorching temperatures you'd died laughing as she turned up to school in about ten layers.

"yes miss i've been told and i've already been given my warnings! but its fucking freezing and these don't do anything." leah snapped at your english teacher who warned her for the grey hoodie she had on beneath your uniform, yanking at the paper thin blazer covering her.

you'd grabbed her knee beneath the table and squeezed gently, giving her a warning look as leah mumbled an apology and your teacher hummed but let her outburst slide much to your relief.

"hey you need to calm down you can't afford an afternoon in you've got training." you warned quietly, her head falling to your shoulder as you shared your textbook, leah having overslept and turned up late she'd forgotten almost everything bar her head.

but with her mood only worsening as time went on you'd opted not to tease her for it, rather doing everything you could to try and make her first day back easier. "i wish i was in bed." leah mumbled with a frown, tapping her foot against yours to signal to turn the page which you did.

"you and me both lee, you and me both. lunch is next anyway, then two more classes and you get to run around and get all dirty and sweaty like you love!" you pinched her cheek and again turned the page as her foot knocked against yours.

"two classes you aren't in." leah huffed, pulling her head off your shoulder and slumping backwards into her chair, arms crossed over her chest with a frown.

the bell to end class cut you off before another word could be said, leah shoving your books back into your bag for you as the two of you joined the rest of your friends, making your way to where the six of you always ate together.

"leah!" you laughed as the girl attached herself to you from behind, hugging your back firmly to her front. "m'hungry and i'm cold." the girl mumbled, having already eaten her food you knew she was eyeing off yours.

"and thats my problem how exactly?" you mocked, shoving the last mouthful of your sandwich into your mouth and leaning up to kiss her cheek. "mate the betrayal!" leah gasped, fingers digging into your ribs as you squealed and tried to push away from her but the girls iron grip was unbreakable.

both of you missed the knowing look shot among your friends, all of whom had front row seats to your endless pining over one another over the years and had spoken to the pair of you individually about no longer dancing around it.

"wanna go to the library?" leah asked, chin resting on your shoulder as you reveled in the warmth from her body hugging yours. "is leah catherine williamson willingly asking to go somewhere with books!" you gasped sarcastically as she flicked your ear.

"yeah its warm in there they have heaters!" "alright you've sold me lets go."

~

"stop looking at me and read those notes, you need to catch up!" you kicked her from where the two of you sat cross legged on the floor, hidden away behind the aisles. "but its so boring man!" leah groaned, snapping the book closed and dropping it in her lap.

"then go find a book thats interesting, i have to finish this." you chuckled, gaze dropping back to the homework in your lap as leah rolled her eyes. "thats not even mandatory and we got it an hour ago, you don't need to do it right now!" leahs foot nudged the book.

"its not mandatory for me but you're behind and its mandatory for you. so if i finish it now then you can take it with you and copy after training so you won't need to stress." you answered without looking away, swatting her foot away as leahs face softened.

it was at that moment as you sat together in the library, hair tucked away in a beanie and glasses once again hanging off your nose that leahs body surged with adoration for you and for the first time along with that came a confidence she'd lacked until now.

"hey. can we talk about something?" her foot bumped you again and hearing the obvious switch in her tone of voice you nodded, putting aside your notebook and raising your eyebrows to show you were listening.

"so i have this friend yeah? and she's sort of got this massive dumb crush on someone shes really close to, like her best mate." leah started, avoiding your eyes as she looked up to the roof and you frowned a little.

"okay." you nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue. "but she's afraid that if she tells her best mate that they won't feel the same way and it'll make it weird between them." leah continued, still not looking at you as you moved so you were sitting beside her.

"okay." you repeated, unsure if you were misreading this as your hand sat dormant by leahs. "so what would you do?" leah asked, a lot quieter now. "if i was your friend?" you clarified as she nodded, neither of you making eye contact.

"i would tell your friend that lifes too short, that she should tell her best mate. because if they are close then even if the feelings aren't the same it won't ruin anything, and if the feelings are the same then by telling them she won't miss out on an opportunity to explore that." you answered honestly, heart hammering now as you hoped you weren't misunderstanding.

a silence fell between the two of you the only noise the gentle chatter of your peers scattered around the library but in your own little bubble all you could focus on was leah.

suddenly your pinky moved just a few centimetres, gently nudging leahs before stilling. holding her breath leahs own pinky inched sideways a little grazing yours, and slowly you felt it interlock, eventually her whole hand grabbing onto yours and interlacing your fingers.

"so i'm sort of in love with you and i have been for years, and i don't know if this makes things really weird and if it does then i'm so sorry but you're like the best human ever and-" leahs head snapped toward yours as she started to ramble making your lips curl into a smile.

leahs words died in her throat as you cleared the gap between you and cut her off pressing your soft lips to hers, pulling away as the blonde stared at you dumbstruck.

"does that fix your friends worries?"

~

several months later and you and leah were even more smitten with one another than before. with school nearly finished you knew leah was angling for a contract with the arsenal senior team and when leah wanted something she put her entire being it making it happen.

"hi love! she's still upstairs, even though she knows we need to leave in five minutes!" leahs mum amanda greeted you with a hug before yelling upstairs making you laugh. "im nearly ready woman keep your pants on!" came leahs yell back making her mum roll her eyes.

"charmer she is." amanda sighed as you shot her a grin and she hurried off to make sure jacob was ready to go, the four of you headed to watch him play with his own team.

jogging upstairs you entered your girlfriends bedroom but frowned unable to see your actual girlfriend inside of it. "rah!" you jumped about a foot in the air as hands grabbed your waist and spun you around.

"dickhead! don't do that." you scowled as she put you down, doubled over laughing as you kicked her and she whined, flopping down onto her bed. "leah you're not even dressed, hurry up!" you groaned impatiently.

"okay sorry mum!" the blonde mocked, disappearing into her closet as you clicked your heels together impatiently. "stop that! its stressing me out." leahs head popped out to point to your feet as you smiled and continued to do it making her eyes roll.

"leah we need to leave, shift it!" amanda yelled from downstairs as you stood up, the blonde finally stepping out of the bathroom fully dressed. "ready now?" you quirked an eyebrow. "mm not yet, one more thing." leah held up a finger as you sighed, hearing amanda huff from downstairs.

to your surprise your girlfriend grabbed your hands and pulled your body into hers, one hand cradling the back of your neck as the other nudged your chin upwards and her lips captured your own.

"we need to go!" you laughed quietly into the kiss, trying to pull away as leahs grip on the back of your neck tightened. "they can wait thirty more seconds." leah grinned, teeth tugging on your bottom lip teasingly.

but right as it started, the kiss came to an abrupt end as leah pulled some sort of material over your eyes. "come on! god you're always making us so late babe." leah groaned holding her hand out as you adjusted the beanie she'd put on you and rolled your eyes.

"you know being cute only gets you so far williamson."

once at the game you and leah tried to be discreet as you sat down together, not having told either of your families just yet. but with amanda on your right and leah on your left with her aunt and cousins sat behind, it didn't take long.

the two of you were pressed as much into one another as you could be, leahs arm draped over the back of your seat as you leaned into her side and she'd whisper things into your ear every few minutes making you grin or giggle.

your feet would tap and poke against one anothers playing footsie like a couple of children, one of your hands resting on leahs knee, fingers playing absentmindedly with the strands of denim which protruded from the rips in her jeans.

you both missed the amused looks from leahs mum beside you who'd just been waiting for one of you to crack and tell her after she'd unknowingly caught the two of you making out in the living room one afternoon, choosing not to make herself known and rather leaving you both to it.

but as the game continued leahs advances seemed to get bolder, her lips kissing your cheek and forehead with a loud smack as you'd huff and shove her away making her grin and do it over and over again, for once barely paying the match any attention.

"stop! your fingers are freezing." you laughed quietly, wrenching her hand away from where it travelled up your hoodie. "and your stomach is very warm, stop being selfish!" leahs hand crept back up, cold fingers pressing teasingly into your ribs making you squeal and smack her.

"girls." you both looked up as amanda called for you, subtly pushing leahs hand out of your lap. "you know this means no more sleepovers and closed doors under my roof, yes?" amanda smiled as you choked on air and leah hit your back, giving her mum an incredulous look of shock.

"mum!" was all the blonde managed to scoff out in surprise as both of your faces burned bright red.

"what? i gave you lots of opportunities to tell me! you missed your chance love."

~

nowadays, the cold snap still came and your girlfriend still loathed it, but she made sure to take full advantage of all the perks she could squeeze from it.

which is why her arms tightened around your torso as you tried to get up, causing you to smile. "baby?" you spoke softly, running a hand through her blonde her, her face calm and still, eyes squeezed shut. "leaaah!" you sang out slowly, finger tracing gently across her face.

all you received was a huff and a grunt as she rolled over, burying her face in your neck and tangling her legs with yours. "come on i said one more hour and its been two now, get up!" you laughed, tucking a hand up her hoodie and scratching at her back.

"if you wanted me to get up you'd not have started that love." leah sighed happily, shifting herself even closer into you. "don't you dare! give it back." her head popped up and she cracked one eye open with a glare as you retracted your hand.

"doesn't belong to you." you teased with a smile, moving your hands beneath you as leah scoffed. "does too!" leah argued, both eyes open as suddenly she was on top of you. "so does this, and this, and this, and this and-" she peppered kisses all over your face and neck as your laughter filled the room.

"baby its cold and its raining and we both have the day off, just want cuddles." leah flopped back down on top of you, lips curled into a pout as you rolled your eyes playfully.

"fine! one more hour."

that hour again became two and with leah well and truly dead to the world this time you managed to wiggle out of bed, leaving her tucked away in the covers as your body screamed for coffee.

you sighed in relief as the first sip hit your lips, taking a seat at the counter and staring out the window, watching as each raindrop smacked the glass and trailed down carving its own little path.

"what part of i want cuddles did you not understand!" you glanced over your shoulder to see leah with the duvet wrapped around her, hood covering her bed hair and an annoyed scowl on her face.

"what part of one more hour did you not understand?" you smiled teasingly, sipping at your coffee as she rolled her eyes. "is the heat on? im actually freezing." leah mumbled, her body quickly moving to wrap around yours.

"go put another layer on then baby, the heat is on." you chuckled, craning your head back to press a few lazy kisses to her jaw, head resting against her chest. "can't believe you chose coffee over me." leah grumbled.

"well one fuels me and the other drains me so..." you trailed off with a shrug, squealing as suddenly you weren't in your chair anymore, feet off the ground as leah carried you into the living room. "leah!" you laughed as she dropped you onto the sofa and crawled on top of you.

"look! its like our private little kiss cave." the blonde beamed, tugging the duvet over her head to engulf the both of you like a fort as she hungrily kissed you, stealing the air from your lungs as her hands slipped up your hoodie.

"baby your hands are freezing!" "oh really? see my lips are the coldest right now, you would be a terrible girlfriend not to help me warm them up."

[junggunz]

not just you and me | 🔞

cw: fem bodied reader | threesomes galore | oral (m receiving, f receiving) | overstimulation | fingering | squirting | double penetration (two pps in one hole for gun and goo's part)| spit roasting | i use she/her pronouns like twice eek | all characters featured are 18+ wc: each throuple is ~800 words each. 2.4k total

just straight up filth. proceed with caution and don't say i didn't warn you.

──★ ˙ ̟JAKE AND SAMUEL

The one sided competition between Samuel and Jake was no secret. It was one of the things that Samuel had a hard time hiding. So, naturally, you can’t help but push his buttons and wonder aloud if Jake was better than him in the bedroom. The latter had never paid any mind to the imaginary feud between them but once the teasing words leave your mouth, he’s intrigued.

Not because he has anything to prove, but solely due to the fact Jake has been waiting for you to give him a chance. Jake had already heard from Samuel about the few drunk slip ups where he got lucky, and ever since then Jake had been waiting for his turn. Even if he had to share you with Samuel this time, it would have to suffice for the time being. 

Your legs are spread, with Jake settled between them; your back in an impossible arch as he holds your hips firmly, pulling you onto his mouth. The first time you cum on his tongue, all you can think about is how quick it happens. The second time he makes you orgasm, you start to feel a little bit dizzy—by the third one, you’re delirious and can barely focus on using your own mouth to suck off Samuel.

“You think he’s better than me, don’t you?” He chuckles bitterly, stroking your hair as he looks down at your trembling body that was still being pleased with Jake’s lips and tongue, but this time with the addition of his long fingers. So selfishly lost in your own bliss, you can’t even formulate a response to Samuel as your moans pour freely from your mouth when you pull away from Samuel once again, your hand quickly jerking off his slick cock; coated in the most obscene amount of your saliva.

“Fuuck—” You gasp out, feeling the pad of Jake’s thumb circling your clit while he eases his fingers into you. Samuel watches—totally just to see the way your body responds, not because he wants to see Jake’s methodology for getting you so delirious— an amused smirk tugs at his lips seeing how much of a mess you’ve made. You’re pathetically writhing against the sheets, rolling your hips against Jake’s fingers as they press into your sweet spot; deliberately pushing yourself to overstimulation because there was just something about Jake’s tender touch that had you fiending for more. 

Samuel lets you have the pleasure of cumming on Jake’s fingers one more time before he’s moving around; the latter looking just as confused as you but still following Samuel’s lead anyway. The two of them exchange a couple hushed words between each other while you lay lithe against the bed. So fucked out and your throat sore from a combination of moaning so much and having Samuel ramming into your esophagus, you can’t find it in you to make any sort of noise of surprise when Jake suddenly lifts you up off the bed. Biceps flexing as he hooks his arms under your knees, you immediately cling on to him for support, your eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and curiosity.

“Just focus on me.” Jake tells you gently, leaning to capture your lips in a languid lip lock that has your body going slack in his hold. For a split second, you feel his hard length grazing your inner thigh right before it slips right into the sopping wet hole he just stretched out with his fingers. Moaning into his mouth, your once slack limbs are tensing up as you hold on to him tighter. With Jake kissing you so heatedly and the slick warmth of your walls wrapped around his cock, your senses are too overwhelmed to even think about what’s happening behind you.

You don’t hear the plastic lid of the lube bottle flip open. You don’t hear the loud squelch of the bottle being squeezed as Samuel smears the viscous liquid all over his fingers. And you barely even notice him easing his now lubed up fingers into the puckered rim of your ass. Jake had managed to get you so wet, your arousal seeped out of your pussy and thoroughly coated your other hole. 

As much as the little green monster of jealous whispers nasty thoughts into Samuel’s ear, he does a good job ignoring it. The fact that Jake was getting his sloppy seconds coupled along with the fact you were finally letting him have your other hole was enough to keep his ego comfortably inflated. Taking his spot behind you with his chest pressed up against your back, Samuel retracts his fingers from your ass only to slip his cock inside; a rush of pride coursing through him when you break your kiss with Jake to toss your head back with a breathy moan when he breaches the extremely tight opening. 

The feeling of your ass being stretched open by Samuel’s fat cock should have hurt. Even through your lust riddled mind, you knew that. But when he’s fully embedded inside the cavity, all you feel is a slight discomfort from being filled with not one but two very impressive dicks. Your cheeks flush as you realize that the only way this was able to be a pleasant experience was because of how wet you were.

Now, all that was left for you to figure out was if it was the flair of sensuality Jake approached you with or if it was Samuel’s rough hands that knew exactly how to work your body that had gotten you the most excited. Perhaps you would need a couple more sessions to come to a decisive conclusion.

──★ ˙ ̟GUN AND GOO

At the hands of two sadists with very different attitudes yet share the commonality of finding pleasure in the sight of you totally wrecked beneath them, you should have expected this. 

“Do you really think both of us will fit in here?” Gun asks, his hands spreading apart the globes of your ass to get a better look at your sopping pussy that was greedily slurping up his length with every thrust. Your hole was stretched out around his cock like an elastic band; gripping him tightly and looking like it would snap if anything else tried to overextend it.

“I don’t see why not, she seems nice and tenderized.” Goo responds cheekily as he looks down at your body, on all fours while he occupies your mouth and his raven haired counterpart is rutting into you from behind. “Have you been keeping track of how many times you’ve came already?” He directs his question to you as he momentarily slips his length out of your mouth and awaits your answer.

“Lost count after the fourth time.” You murmur shyly, avoiding Goo’s gaze; already knowing he was gonna make fun of you for it. 

“See? Already so cockdrunk she couldn’t get past the number four! I say we do it.” He laughs, speaking to Gun as if you weren’t even there before slapping the head of his cock against your lips and encouraging you to take him back inside your warm cavern. Swollen lips glossed over with drool encase his length once again, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off; moans rumbling in your throat from the way Gun was simultaneously ramming into you from behind. Mind fogged over, you don’t know how much longer things continue on like this until you feel your walls squeeze around the cock inside you, 

From behind you can hear Gun scoff in amusement before he slips out of you and Goo follows suit, leaving you feeling empty. The emptiness was short lived—much to the contradictory feelings of relief and dismay that muddle your brain. With a bit of repositioning, you find yourself on Gun’s lap, his dick deep in your guts once more as you look down at him with a dazed expression and still trying to make sense of what was happening. He slowly bucks into you as if he was trying to test the waters before you feel another set of hands on your torso, realizing that Goo was now behind you. For someone who didn’t have a serious bone in his body, you didn’t think he would follow through with the dirty idea he suggested to his comrade. 

Gun feels your body tense up the moment Goo taps the head of his cock against your butt and sighs softly, his hands going to cup your cheeks and force you to focus on his dark eyes boring into yours.

“Relax or it’s gonna hurt.” He tells you. It’s meant to be comforting but you perceive an underlying sense of threat. It was hard to tell whether you imagined it or not because you knew both of them definitely got off to you crying. But either way, you still try your hardest to release the tension in your body. 

Slick with lube, Goo’s slippery cock squeezes in against Gun who was already comfortably nestled within you. The fit is tighter than usual and has both of them groaning, fighting the urge to start moving within you immediately. However they weren’t that mean.  They give you as much time as you need to adjust to being totally stuffed like this.  

Once you give them the green light, Gun and Goo move in tandem, the timing of their thrusts perfectly synced with each other as they stuff your pussy with both of their cocks. With both of them inside you at the same time, sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed within your walls are being stimulated at once make the experience more pleasurable than you could have imagined. You’re making a mess on both of them as you lascivious sounds pour from your pretty lips. 

Though Goo isn’t able to see the dumb smile of pure bliss plastered on your face as you’re getting wrecked, he’s convinced that he has the best spot. From the way your ass bounces every time he snaps into you, how your pussy leaves a sticky trail of your juices on him and the way your hole can barely contain the two cocks filling you.

This was truly one of the best ideas he’s had in a while; and Gun would agree.

──★ ˙ ̟WARREN AND ELI

“Why are you using those fingers?” Eli asks critically, his brows furrowing and the hand stroking his length losing speed as he watched Warren ease his middle and index fingers into your pussy. 

“What?” The latter responds, attention currently being held by the way your walls eagerly sucked in the digits; a small purr of content falling from you when he starts to leisurely thrust them in and out of you. Eli sighs softly and moves to kneel between your legs beside Warren, grabbing his wrist before rather aggressively yanking his fingers out. Eli is quick to fill you back up with his own fingers— using the middle and ring— then curling them inside you, immediately pressing into your g-spot and causing a drawn out moan to pour from you. 

“If you do it like this— ” Eli instructs, thrusting his fingers into you with precise yet strong movements that make your thighs quiver and your moans come more frequently and more shrill. Warren watches each flick of Eli’s expert wrist, making mental notes of how easily you become a wreck beneath him but it doesn’t deter him from wrapping his hand around his needy length; idly pumping it as he listens to the wet slapping noises created by Eli’s palm smacking against your sticky snatch. 

“— She cums just like that.” Eli finishes as your back arches off the bed while the most debauched sound of pleasure leaves you. He pulls away from you just as suddenly as he approaches you and once again, Warren is placed in charge of making you cum. 

Utilizing what was just demonstrated before him, Warren dips his fingers back into your still sensitive hole and causes a small mewl to fall from your swollen lips. He repeats the same exact motions Eli had just shown and you feel yourself nearing your second orgasm impossibly quick. What catches you by surprise is when Warren places his free hand on your tummy right below your navel, pressing down firmly as his fingers jackhammer in and out of your cunt. A series of whines and squeals escape you as you thrash about but Warren does a good job of keeping you in place until a clear stream of fluid is avulsed from your loins as you squirt all over his fingers; your wetness dripping down his forearms.  

You’re trembling and gasping after the intense finish, your vision blurred by the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“Have you done that?” Warren asks Eli with a smug grin, slowly withdrawing his fingers from you.

“With my fingers? No. With my dick? Plenty of times. Let’s see if you can do the same.” The latter chuckles with a loose shrug, settling beside you and guiding your hand to his cock. Slick with a combination of his spit, your spit, and probably some precum, you waste no time stroking Eli as you try to even out your breathing from the back to back orgasms you were gifted with. 

While you’re busy with that, Warren grabs you by the hips, lifting you up slightly so your butt is flush with his thighs before easing his length into you. The stretch makes you whimper, but your pace doesn’t falter as you continue to pump Eli in your hand. Not too long after, Warren is snapping his hips into yours; each one of your moans fueling him to venture deeper and faster into you. His thick cock reaches even deeper than his fingers could and it has tears of pure elation streaking your face. Throbbing inside of your gushing walls, Warren’s head falls back with a low moan while his fingertips surely leave behind bruises on your hips. The sight of you so selfishly lost in your own euphoria has Eli pulsing in your palm, more of his precum spilling from his tip and allowing you to stroke him faster. But even as the both of you were aware of your impending climaxes looming on the horizon, the look of dark lust clouding Eli’s usually gentle eyes let you know that he was going to get his turn with you very soon.

an: oh my god???

[samodivaa]

Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 1)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Part 2⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* Part 4⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Warnings - heavy angst, betrayal, smut, non consensual, dom!Soldat. rough!Soldat Words - 2000

Bucky was already waiting on the couch, tormented by the decision he has made – to confront her. Y/n enters their shared apartment, carelessly smiling at him. She seemed so generous about her love – a constant presence and support since the fight on the airport years ago. Grace and patience and consideration is what she made him master once again, these little qualities are in his control, thanks to her kind soul. Y/n helped him forgive himself and he chose to return love and compassion, chose to fight his past. Wakanda was their secret - beautiful and peaceful. Her heart was born open and although his hands were empty at the time, he filled them with the soft fire made from the two ember eyes. The dreamy mind is full, overflows with tender memories… When she enters a room, it blazes with red, pink, roses, but behind her blossomed spirit stood a façade he was not aware of. The floral presence is poisoned, spreading into him. And just like the deadly nightshade, she is indeed is a poisonous flower.

"How long has this been going on?" he asks coldly, taking a sip of his bottle before putting it back on the table. A stressed dove, mournfully looking at her as he gets up. "How long?" he asks again. „Bucky, what is the matter with you?“ There won’t be a chance of escape, he steps closer, towering over her as some sort of a warning. He just came back to life, laying under the warmth of it and is already being burned by the person who he trusted the most. Abstained for far too long, he needs to hear her says it – he needs the truth to devour his life. "Can I ask what happened to your neck?" pointing to her neck, his tone is still neutral, but his eyes are exhausted by the phantom following his mind the past days. Love makes knots, now it is brutally tearing them apart. He ran from the darkness of his nightmares for so long, only to find himself in a situation darker still. „I don’t know“ she is wearing a turtleneck shirt, she hates those – inside she is crumbling as much as her lies. “You don’t know?” his tone strays to the realms of anger – it consumes him, fear ensnares her until her back hits the wall behind, Bucky not withdrawing from her face even for a moment “Who was it?“

"No one, Bucky" she manages to retain her posture, not giving him the satisfaction of telling the truth. The blade of her words hit a nerve. "You’re terrible at lying" He crosses his hands, nails digging into his arms. Silence looms for a while before he nods, his dearest love painting his misery and his eyes ache with the weight of the unspoken truth. “So no explanation, got it" „I don’t know how I got them…“ Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly, trying to shackle his intention of breaking something. "So you have no idea what happened to your neck? Are you making fun of me or do you have brain damage“ his tone finally rises as he takes the collar of her shirt between his metal fingers, pulling it down rashly to reveal the bite marks. The image wraps around his throat as a wreath of spikes. “Who did that to your neck, because I am sure that it was not me“ „Jesus Bucky, why are you so angry, I didn’t do anything. We literally spend most-“ He laughs devilishly, still holding her by the colar. “Just so many bad things happening in my life. Nothing important, nothing new, just one thing after another, you know?” There is no such thing as life for him , it's just catastrophe. Unmoored and alone, his eyes become full of tears. The only still part is his body. He gives her one more chance to say something, to explain herself in any way, but the silence is pain chiselled forever into his chest, it hurts more than words. "Don’t be angry, please…let me go…“ "Don’t be angry…don’t be angry" he whispers as a lullaby, staring into her teary eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at her audacity to even cry. "We shared a life and you to cheated on me" His favorite beauty and terror on myriad levels keep her silence. He decides to let go of her collar, his fingers clenching to fists as their drop weightlessly to the sides of his body. "You expect me to believe this…? Really, y/n?” he says , his expression is still angry, but it appears softer "If you didn’t want to tell me because you‘re afraid, it‘s fine. Just be honest and tell me that, why are you still lying? That hurts me more than you think." „I am not…“ He stands there unmoving, staring at her and it seems like he‘s still processing this realty of her not having any concern towards him. Her mind is resting whilst his is grieving, wondering and reasoning. He can’t gain control of his dreadful spirit, he is the shell he was back at Wakanda. A tear runs down from the wet, dreamful eyes, landing on his cheek as he looks down, trying to hide it from her. Bucky takes a step away from her and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking and it‘s obvious that he doesn’t want to cry in front of her. Their love is his apparition, a figment of his imagination. He observe her for a moment, he is dying in that house, buried underneath the floor of their shared past and she just watches it unfold. Bucky finally shakes his head in disbelief. "So you‘re telling me you have no idea where that bruise came from?" a weak laugh escapes his lips, choking back a sob. „You’re lying, I know it“ he says in a calm voice, but there was a quiet threat hidden beneath it. „I don’t want to leave, Bucky“ "And I don‘t want to get cheated on" he counters with an angry scream as his pain is infinite at this point. All kind of thoughts stirring inside of him. „I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.“ It makes him tremble to remember their daily life, but now he is unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will. „I can’t tell you...I can’t...I will leave“ she whispers, having found a comfort in hiding. "Fine, leave then!” Bucky snarls, before he spins around as his heavy footsteps resonate through the quiet room, but he stops himself to look at her for the last time – the end of the line.

Bucky watches her leave, already nostalgic for his love. He doesn’t say a word, not even bothering to close the door as he stands in the doorstep, watching her go. Y/n notices him staring from the darkness of the doorway as she makes her way into the world. Bucky’s inner self is shutting down more and more, as though to protect himself, but it became inaccessible even to himself. Over the next couple of days, Bucky shuts himself completely in his lonely home. He only leaves the apartment to buy alcohol and some food. His days are spent either drinking or sleeping, and when he‘s awake and sober, he just sits on the couch blankly, staring at the wall. He is composed of nothing, but illness – a phantom built out of pain. The days turn to weeks. With his heart broken, he despises life. Rising from a grave with each morning, wallowing in his sadness and alcohol. („What went wrong...Did I do something wrong?”) he wonders for weeks repeatedly, tears again rolling down his cheeks. „What did I do to deserve this“ he screams, slamming his metal fist into the wall, there is nothing but a stain in his heart, it grew – infecting the whole heart. He slowly slides down, sitting on the ground as he buries his head into his arms and starts to cry.

- Two days before she left - „Bucky, baby…I don’t wanna do anything tonight, let’s just sleep“ he was getting harder and harder, pressing into her back to let her know. He whispers in her ear, but the voice is huskier than usual and filled with seduction „Цветок...“ (Flower) Bucky’s control is slipping once again and y/n gups at the realization. The metal grip tightens on her hip, drawing her even closer to his clothed cock. Fingers pass through the fabric of the nightdress, pulling it upwards to reveal her butt cheeks. His warm hand, spilled under her body proceeding to lightly trace his fingers over her nipple. She knows to her remove the panties by herself, not wanting to anger the Soldier from the very beginning as it happened last time. He groans, closing his eyes to savor the scent of her hair. Vibranium fingers digs his into her soft skin, leaving prints of evidence. „No, don’t…please…he will see“ she desperately tries to voice her concern, knowing there is no way of fighting him in this state. „Пусть он увидит…“ (let him see) His breath fanned the skin of her neck, sending chills to the bone.

He dragged his length through her wetness, pushing in fully leaving y/n with no time to adjust. Tears roll down her beautiful face, why this keeps on happening? The warm touches of his human arm move to from her nipple to her stomach „Я хочу ребенка...да.“ (I want a baby…yes) She takes a deep breath, sometimes regret settles in for not telling Bucky that the Winter Soldier was very present and real. He never seems to remember, they operate as different people. She whimpers at the cold touch to her clit, he was flicking it, making her body shake. His hand returns to her hip, grabbing it harshly as he starts thrusting deeply. His pace becomes erratic, being closer to his orgasm. Soldat forcefully holds her in place so he can fill her with hot cum. Her reality hurts so much. She wants to get away, but when she had tried before – resulted in him being close to sadistic. His fingers trail to her hair, removing it from her neck and he sinks his teeth. Goosebumps trickle up there, from fear, from pain as he slowly turns her head towards him – there is no sight of Bucky.

[reverseexorcist]

♡ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

You couldn't not give me Carmilla fucking Carmine and expect me not to go feral over her-

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,479 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, these are kind've all over the place, Carmilla might be a tad OOC since this is my first time writing her

➲ There are so many different ways this relationship could possibly start. The mind boggles trying to think of all of them. Just think of all the potential shenanigans that could occur and have fun with that

➲ But lemme just say before anything - This woman is fiercely protective over you. Not in the cutesy, clingy kind've obsessive way, but the silently scary scary-dog privilege kind've partner. The epitome of 'excuse me sir, they asked for no pickles', and, because I love this trope, you are the only person (besides her daughters) that she will ever fully be soft for.

➲ Insert 🥺 right here

➲ Just, get you a woman who looks at you the way Carmilla looks at her wife. That's all I can say

➲ The soft moments in the morning when you can just lay in bed and watch her get ready. Pulling her hair up into her signature, gravity defying buns(?) and delicately slip on and twine her angelic steel shoes. The minutes of her fingers expertly working away in a comfortable silence as you just lay under the comfort of your warm blankets? Those are the moments right there 👌

➲ Probably not one for physical affection, at least not in public. Definitely not in public. Her reputation alone would probably put you in danger, which is, y'know, not good, so no hand-holding in public

➲ (Honestly, one part of her probably prefers not to be seen with you in public for that exact reason. The other part wants to keep you in her line of sight at all times because at least then she can personally keep you safe)

➲ All of that being said, can't deny she'd probably give top tier hugs. Proper bear hugs because this woman is tall and strong and would undeniably make you feel safe whenever you're in her arms. Depending on how tall or short you are, she could also probably pick you up if you really wanted 👉👈

➲ (She could 100% pick you up, and probably with one hand as well)

➲ Gives the most tender of little kisses. Small pecks on the cheeks and forehead whenever she's tired from work, her larger fingers gently grazing the sides of your head as her fluffy hair tickles your face

➲ And the adorable little pet names she whispers to you! Maybe you're just passing by each other in an almost empty street or just relaxing at home together, but she'll always try and take the chance to whisper something like 'mi Vida', 'mi Corazón' or 'mi Reina' just loud enough for the two of you to hear

➲ Let's be real, this woman is really goddamn tall, so you're probably shorter than her and she absolutely loves it and would absolutely tell this to your face just to fluster you. What she loves even more is the way you'd have to reach up on your tippy toes with her leaning down to meet you halfway just to have you playfully kiss her on the tip of her nose or her chin

➲ Maybe, very rarely, if she's feeling extra sentimental, she'd love it if you sat on her lap while she works in her home office, just so she can have your comfort and warmth nearby. More often than not this scenario would end up with you falling asleep in her lap and her carrying you back to bed with the smallest of smiles on her face

➲ If she could really help it, she'd prefer to keep you as far away from her work as possible. As much as she would love to have you in the office, maybe helping her with paperwork or something similar so she could have you at within her reach at all times of the day, arms dealing is a dangerous job. At least her daughter's have each other's backs' when they're out doing business, but you'd probably have to make it on your own or with one of her other employees and that's a big no no in her eyes

➲ Also, speaking of her daughters, your relationship with them would vary wildly depending on when you met them

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when Clara and Odette were rather young, they'd probably cling on to you like a second mother figure. In some cases, they might've even preferred you over Carmilla for the sole fact that their toddler puppy eyes work on you better than their biological mother

➲ Your dynamic would probably just be the three of you racing to see who could give Carmilla a hug first after she gets home from work

➲ (Though, this only works if Carmilla is hell-born seeing as sinner's can't have children)

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when they were older though, there might be a bit of a tense air when you first meet. Carmilla's protectiveness isn't just one way - Her daughters absolutely adore her, and although they definitely couldn't protect her physically, they'd do their damn best to protect her emotionally

➲ They'd warm up to you after some time though, seeing you do truly love their mother with your whole heart. You'd never be a parent to them, barely even a step-parent, but they'd respect you and care for you like family nonetheless because you make their mother happy

➲ Either way, her heart melts seeing the three of you getting alone, and she 100% has a family picture she keeps on her desk for her eyes only

➲ Sometimes she just waits until you fall asleep so she can cradle your head in her heads oh so carefully. She just sort've stares at you, her eyes glowing in the dark with her wild mane of hair spilling out behind her, and she just traces all the intricate details of your face with her eyes

➲ And then she just sort've hugs you closer to her, tugging the blankets a little tighter around the two of you as she presses the littlest of kisses to your forehead before relaxing into the pillows

➲ But just imagine Carmilla with a wife who died so much later after her. Just this tall, scary and proper woman that strikes fear into the hearts of millions with her little gremlin wife who keep talking about shit like reddit that the other sinners just don't understand (not even Carmilla herself, but she finds your antics somewhat entertaining, at least when she doesn't have to act as your self preservation instincts and keep you safe)

➲ Extermination is your least favourite day for multiple reasons

➲ The first being, well, the exorcists descending form heaven to brutally murder sinners left and right, but also because Carmilla changes around this time

➲ It's understandable, especially with what happened in one of the previous exterminations when she and her daughters got caught, but it still scares you to see you usually cool, calm and loving wife turn into a robot who's only goal is to get you and her daughters to a safehouse to wait out the terror outside

➲ Doesn't mean you're not grateful, though. You can look past all of that because you know she's just doing it to keep you safe, and in the end you'd rather be safe and living with your family rather than dead on the end of an exorcist's spear

➲ You probably also have a good relationship with the other overlords, despite never having gone to a meeting

➲ (It's because of this you've never met Velvette or the other Vee's, and if Carmilla has a say, you never will)

➲ Rosie, being the social butterfly she is, loves to talk gossip with you every chance she gets. Zestial likes to join in on your little sessions, not saying anything but bringing tea for everyone to drink and enjoy. Clara also likes to join in sometimes, but her sister would much rather sit with her mother and just watch the chaos unfold in front of them

➲ Almost certainly has caught you trying on her shoes when she's not looking. A part of her is annoyed because she'd rather not have you involved in anything to do with her work, but the innocent look you give her makes her rethink her annoyance in the moment

➲ She'd later found out Clara helped you because you also wanted to try and walk around on pointe like the rest of the family. No idea why you skipped straight to trying the angelic weapon shoes, but Carmilla does offer to help you later

➲ Overall, great wife and I'd give her a 9/10. One point deducted probably because she'd be a tad too overprotective, but everything else about her is great; From her bear hugs to those little moments the two of you share

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[midastouch013]

Her Caregiver

TO THE ANON: I'm so sorry, I lost your request, but I hope this meets what you had requested

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has always managed to keep her little secret a secret, but what happens when she gets jealous of how you care for Wanda?

Warnings: Little/Caregiver, Jealousy, Little Nat, Little Wanda

P.S. Sorry for being so late, there was this retreat and there wasn't any reception there. Plus, I'm not sure if this is exactly how Caregiver and Little fics work, but I hope you like it.

---

Natasha Romanoff sat in her room, her gaze drifting towards the stuffed animals arranged neatly on her bed. She had always been drawn to the softness and comfort they provided, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of her life as an Avenger. But there was something deeper behind her fascination with these childish trinkets, something she had never fully acknowledged until now.

She glanced at the door, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had been harboring a secret, one she hadn't dared to share with anyone, not even her closest friends. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, was a little.

The thought both terrified and excited her. Terrified because she feared judgment and rejection from her peers. Excited because she longed for the care and comfort she had never allowed herself to experience. But most of all, she longed for someone to understand her, to see past the tough exterior she presented to the world.

That someone, she realized, was you.

You, her teammate, her friend, the one person she trusted above all others. She knew you had a kind heart and a gentle touch, qualities she desperately craved in a caregiver. But how could she ever admit such vulnerability to you? How could she risk tarnishing the image of the fearless Avenger you admired?

Natasha sighed, her fingers tracing the edges of a plush bear. She wished she could be brave enough to ask for what she needed, to shed the weight of her secrets and be truly seen. But fear held her back, fear of rejection, fear of ridicule, fear of being deemed unworthy of love.

And so, she buried her desires deep within her heart, locking them away behind walls of steel. But even the strongest barriers couldn't contain the longing in her soul, the ache for connection that refused to be silenced.

And so, a series of events were to set that day, one that would make her have you, as her caregiver, maybe even something more.

--

In the quiet of the Avengers compound, a sudden disruption shattered the tranquility. Wanda Maximoff stumbled into the common area, her usually composed demeanor replaced by one of vulnerability. Sensing something amiss, you approached her, concern etched across your features.

"Hey, Wanda, what's wrong?" you asked gently, kneeling beside her as she curled up on the couch.

Wanda looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I-I don't know," she whimpered softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe here," you assured her, offering a comforting smile. "Do you want a blanket?"

She nodded, sniffling, and you quickly fetched a blanket, wrapping it around her trembling form. Wanda leaned into your embrace, finding solace in the warmth you provided.

Meanwhile, Natasha observed from a distance, a pang of envy stirring within her. She watched as you comforted Wanda, offering the kind of care and tenderness that the redhead secretly longed for herself.

As Wanda began to relax under your gentle ministrations, Natasha couldn't help but approach, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Is she okay?" Natasha inquired softly, her eyes flickering between you and Wanda.

"Yeah, she just slipped into her little space," you explained, shooting Natasha a reassuring smile. "She'll be alright, though."

Natasha nodded, but the jealousy still gnawed at her, a silent reminder of her own unspoken desires.

Feeling a sudden urge to help, Natasha joined you and Wanda, offering her assistance.

"Can I help?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle.

"Of course, Nat. Can you grab her favorite stuffed animal from her room?" you suggested.

Natasha nodded and disappeared momentarily, returning with Wanda's beloved toy. She handed it to Wanda with a soft smile, and Wanda's face lit up at the sight of it.

With Natasha's help, you continued to comfort Wanda, ensuring she felt safe and loved in her vulnerable state.

Later, when you and Natasha found yourselves alone, Natasha couldn't resist commenting on your compassion.

"Hey, I just wanted to say… you're really good with her," Natasha admitted, a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Thanks, Nat. I just want to make sure she feels safe and loved," you replied sincerely.

Natasha nodded, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you couldn't quite place.

"Are you okay?" you asked, sensing her unease.

Natasha forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

You accepted her answer, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Natasha's emotions than she let on.

As the evening wore on, Natasha's jealousy and insecurity continued to fester, gnawing at her from the inside out. Feeling overwhelmed, she excused herself from the common area and retreated to the solitude of her room.

Alone in the dimly lit space, Natasha paced back and forth, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She knew she shouldn't let herself succumb to her little space, that she needed to remain strong and in control. But the more she fought against it, the more the longing tugged at her heartstrings.

"I can't let this happen," she muttered to herself, clenching her fists in frustration. "I have to stay in control."

But the more she fought against it, the stronger the pull became, until Natasha found herself sinking onto her bed, her resolve crumbling like sand between her fingers. Tears pricked at her eyes as she surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotion.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to no one in particular, feeling the weight of her own inadequacy bear down upon her.

Meanwhile, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach. Natasha's sudden disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed, and you knew that she was struggling with something deeper than she let on.

Determined to offer her support, you made your way to her room, the hallway stretching out before you like an endless expanse of uncertainty. With each step, your concern grew, mingling with a sense of urgency that propelled you forward.

Standing before Natasha's closed door, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. You raised your hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway.

"Natasha?" you called out tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you in there?"

Inside the room, Natasha's heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. But deep down, she knew that she couldn't keep her struggles hidden forever.

"Come in" she said softly, so soft that you almost missed it.

As you stepped into Natasha's room, your eyes fell upon her huddled form on the bed, her posture small and vulnerable. For a moment, you were taken aback, the sight of Natasha in her little state catching you completely off guard.

"Natasha?" you murmured softly, your voice laced with genuine surprise. "I… I didn't realize…"

But before you could finish your sentence, you noticed the way Natasha's shoulders tensed, her expression shifting from vulnerability to embarrassment. It was as if she had been caught in a moment of weakness, a side of herself she had never intended for anyone to see.

Feeling a pang of guilt for intruding upon her private moment, you quickly reassured her, "It's okay, Natasha. You don't have to explain anything to me."

But Natasha recoiled slightly, her gaze averted as she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She felt exposed, as if the carefully constructed walls she had built around herself had crumbled to dust, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

You approached her slowly, your movements gentle and deliberate as you reached out a hand to offer her comfort. "It's okay, Natasha," you repeated softly. "You don't have to apologize for being yourself."

But Natasha couldn't shake the feeling of shame that gnawed at her from within. She had spent so long hiding this part of herself from the world, afraid of being judged or rejected. And now, with you standing before her, seeing her at her most vulnerable, she couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelming inadequacy.

As you sat beside Natasha on the bed, a sense of determination washed over you. You refused to let Natasha grapple with her inner turmoil alone, especially now that you knew about this vulnerable side of her.

With gentle determination, you wrapped your arms around Natasha, pulling her into a comforting embrace. She tensed at first, still feeling the weight of embarrassment and shame, but gradually, she began to relax into your touch, allowing herself to be held.

"I'm here for you, Natasha," you whispered softly, your voice a soothing balm to her wounded soul. "You don't have to face this alone."

Natasha's breath hitched as tears welled up in her eyes, the floodgates of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. But you held her steady, offering her the strength and support she so desperately needed.

With a trembling hand, you brushed away her tears, your touch gentle and reassuring. "Let me take care of you," you murmured, your words a promise of unwavering love and support.

As Natasha nestled into your comforting embrace, her vulnerability laid bare before you, you knew that she needed more than just words of reassurance. With tender care, you gently brushed her hair away from her tear-stained cheeks, your touch eliciting a soft sigh from her trembling lips.

"Shh, it's okay, Natasha," you whispered soothingly, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet of her room. "You're safe here with me."

Natasha's breath hitched as she struggled to contain her emotions, but with your steady presence by her side, she began to relax into your embrace, allowing herself to be held.

In a moment of instinctive tenderness, you brought your thumb to your lips, offering it to Natasha. At first, she hesitated, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but you urged her gently, encouraging her to trust you.

"Here, Natasha," you murmured softly, your voice laced with warmth and affection. "It's okay to seek comfort in whatever way you need."

With a shaky breath, Natasha tentatively took your thumb into her mouth, her lips wrapping around it instinctively as she sought solace in the simple act of sucking. A sense of calm washed over her as she melted into your embrace, the rhythmic motion soothing her frayed nerves.

You smiled tenderly at her, your heart swelling with love and admiration for this strong and resilient woman who had entrusted you with her vulnerability. With each gentle stroke of your thumb against her lips, you offered her the comfort and care she so desperately needed, reaffirming your unwavering support for her.

And as Natasha nestled closer to you, her breathing slow and steady, you knew that in that moment, you had helped her find peace amidst the chaos of her inner turmoil. Together, you shared a bond that transcended words, a silent understanding forged in the crucible of vulnerability and acceptance.

With a contented sigh, Natasha closed her eyes, her grip on your thumb loosening as she drifted into a peaceful slumber. And as you held her close, you vowed to always be there for her, to offer her comfort and care whenever she needed it, for as long as she would have you by her side.

-----

As Natasha stirred from her peaceful slumber, she blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her mind. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she was no longer nestled in your comforting embrace, a sense of panic threatening to overtake her.

Frantically, she scanned the room, her eyes darting around in search of your familiar presence. But to her dismay, you were nowhere to be found, leaving her feeling abandoned and alone once more.

A wave of sadness washed over Natasha as she struggled to contain her rising emotions. Just when she thought she had found solace in your care, you had disappeared without a trace, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

With a heavy sigh, Natasha felt herself slipping back into her little space, her defenses crumbling as she sought refuge from the overwhelming sense of abandonment. She curled up on the bed, her thumb finding its way to her lips once more as she sought comfort in the familiar ritual.

But just as Natasha was on the brink of succumbing to her inner turmoil, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, drawing her attention away from her troubled thoughts. Hope blossomed in her chest as she heard the familiar sound of your voice, dispelling the darkness that threatened to consume her.

And then, to her immense relief, you appeared in the doorway, a warm smile gracing your lips as you greeted her with a tender gaze.

"Hey, Natasha," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm sorry I was gone for a moment. I just needed to use the washroom."

As Natasha took in your reassuring presence, a sense of calm washed over her, dispelling the last traces of her anxiety. She felt a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, knowing that no matter how lost she felt, you would always be there to guide her through the darkness.

With a contented sigh, Natasha reached out to you, her small hand seeking yours in a silent gesture of gratitude and affection. And as you took her hand in yours, a sense of peace settled over her, knowing that with you by her side, she could weather any storm that came her way. As you sat beside Natasha, her hand in yours, a question lingered at the forefront of your mind. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, you summoned the courage to voice your curiosity.

"Natasha," you began softly, "do you know why you went into your little space earlier?"

Natasha's breath caught in her throat at your question, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had never intended for you to find out about this vulnerable side of her, and now that you were asking her about it, she felt a wave of apprehension wash over her.

"I... I don't know," she murmured hesitantly, her gaze flickering away from yours. "I guess... I guess I just felt overwhelmed."

You studied her carefully, sensing that there was more to her answer than she was letting on. "Is there something else, Natasha?" you pressed gently, your voice filled with concern.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her mind racing as she grappled with her inner turmoil. But then, with a shaky breath, she found the courage to speak her truth.

"I... I've always wanted to hide my little space from everyone," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want anyone to know about this vulnerable side of me, especially not you."

The confession hung heavy in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of Natasha's deepest fears and insecurities. And in that moment, you realized just how much she had been struggling, how much she had been hiding from you all this time.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, your heart aching for her pain. "I had no idea."

But to your surprise, Natasha offered you a small smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "You couldn't have known."

A silence passed between you, and you could sense that she was debating on whether to tell you, so you stayed quiet, and waited.

As Natasha gathered her courage to share her feelings, she took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

"I… I need to tell you something," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for Natasha to speak.

"I was… I was jealous of Wanda," Natasha admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "When I saw you with her, offering her comfort… I couldn't help but feel envious."

Her confession took you by surprise, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart as you realized the impact your actions had unknowingly had on Natasha.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, reaching out to take her hand in yours. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

But Natasha shook her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's not your fault," she reassured you gently. "I know you were just trying to help."

You studied her carefully, a sense of admiration swelling within you at her honesty and vulnerability. Despite her struggles, Natasha had found the courage to open up to you, to share her deepest fears and insecurities.

"Natasha," you began tentatively, your voice filled with sincerity, "I want you to know that I'm not Wanda's actual caregiver. I was just there to offer her comfort when she needed it."

To your relief, Natasha's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "I know," she replied softly. "And I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

With a sense of relief washing over you, you reached out to squeeze Natasha's hand in yours, a silent gesture of solidarity and support.

"Natasha," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, "would you let me be your caregiver? Not just as a friend, but as something more?"

For a moment, Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise at your heartfelt request. But then, to your immense relief, she nodded, a radiant smile spreading across her face.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, I would like that very much."

[jxsterr]

right i might be insane for this but something about zelink makes me feel like the usual acts of romantic affection are something a thousand times more meaningful and deep between them than those acts are normally. there’s something Religious about these two, like just a simple peck on the cheek is nice for the average couple but for them it’s something so much more. in fairness they are quite literally divine, zelda is the descendant of The goddess and link has the ungodly amount of strength and unwavering resolve to save the world a million times over. there’s nothing average about these two and it drives me insane

like yes they deserve just to be normal people after everything but i don’t think they ever will be, or at least not to each other. zelda might as well be her own goddess at this point, you’re telling me link isn’t going to look at her like she’s ethereal?? like she isn’t the sunshine that basks him in warmth every morning?? you’re also not gonna tell me that zelda wouldn’t have him on a pedestal of her own, like he isn’t her hero, like he hasn’t given his all and sacrificed everything just to save her countless times?? like his whole being doesn’t revolve around her, even when she’s expressed that he can do whatever he wants several times and yet he keeps coming back to her???

plus, there’s no way that all of the yearning that they would’ve had to go through pre calamity wouldn’t have them stuck in Forever Appreciative mode. we already know the link and zelda we see in the castle is Nothing like the link and zelda we see out in the world, exploring and having even the smallest amount of freedom in a world so restrictive. so just imagine all of the built up tension, maybe they released small amounts of it in their moments together outside of the castle but i don’t even think they’d have time to focus on one another when they were both so duty focused. zelda spent the entire pre calamity in a near constant state of anxiety over her powers, the most i could imagine them allowing themselves are hugs in moments of mental anguish, when they needed that love and support they couldn’t get from anyone else, when they were the only two who could understand the pressure they were under. just something to show they weren’t alone in this. then to reunite a century later without any restrictions, that first kiss would’ve been out of relief that they could finally focus on something else and that all that time of wishing for something more could finally come true

so then when zelda inevitably gets snatched up again and link has to go bumbling all over hyrule for her and he finally gets her back, there’s no way that every act of affection after that Isn’t done as if they could lose each other at any moment again. that every kiss isn’t slow and thoughtful and full of emotion just in case it’s their last. that every touch of zelda’s hand against his face isn’t something that whispers i love you i love you i love you. that every quiet touch they exchange isn’t a silent apology for what the other has had to endure just so they could be reunited again. it feels like link and zelda are the only couple who are immune to complacency because fate hasn’t been kind enough to let them get comfortable with the idea that they’re not going anywhere

to me it feels like their affection is something sacred, something special and something that they both cherish. their affection speaks for them when words are useless because fate has put them in such unique situations that nobody else could ever understand them as deeply as they do. everything they do is tender and calculated and full of love because god forbid they take a single moment for granted and GOD.

i’m currently writing something that i hope can portray my feelings about zelink affection because it feels like it is going to burst out of my chest……… or maybe that’s just the autism who knows

[borathae]

“Because of his curse, Jungkook’s past was filled with loneliness. Unable to touch a human without being overtaken by the urge to kill them, he believed his fate to be a touch-deprived one. It changed however when he met Yoongi, bearer of the same curse and loving mentor, who taught him that intimacy was possible for someone like them. Now it’s been years and Jungkook’s life is filled with love, tenderness and the warmth of soft touches. All that is missing is your taste on his tongue. Jungkook wants to change that and asks Yoongi for an especially sweet lesson. You just so happen to find yourself between them. Not only as their most loved princess, but also as their very eager practice helper.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader x Vampire!Jungkook

Genre: Smut, established relationship!AU, Polyamory!AU

Warnings: domestic sweetness, sub!Jungkook, soft Dom!Yoongi, switch!Reader, threesome, Shibari with magical ropes, praise, they give Koo a cockring with the ropes, handjob (Koo receiving), oral (f.receiving), she rests between Yoongi’s legs while Koo kneels and eats her out, Koo calls them Mommy & Daddy, i couldn’t resist afjsdjf, he calls them Mistress & Master beforehand, Yoongi calls them babyboy/girl & good girl/boy, loving dirty talk, finger sucking, lots of drool, pussy fingering, Yoongi has his hand around her throat without choking her, gentle biting (by Yoongi), he plays with her nipples, hair pulling (oc giving & boys receiving), orgasm control & edging (f.receiving), Koo cries because he is happy, she cries cause she’s needy, squirting, a hint of golden showers :’), Jungkook slurps it up cause he is greedy, Yoongi cums in his pants & Kook cums on the sheets fjadsf, some post sex crying, loving & protective aftercare, post sex cuddles!!, I love them!!, Yoongi is truly the best Dom ever :(

Wordcount: 9.3k

a/n: I had this idea because I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of Jungkook wanting to try out oral once he’s a little bit better in controlling his urges and OC & Yoongi being totally down for it. I wasn’t ready for Yoongi though fjadjfa help 🥴🖤

“No but trust me, it’s gonna be great”, Yoongi says in a cute laugh, pressing play on the record player. 

Slow R&B starts playing. He turns, stretching his arms from himself. He is wearing nothing more than tight boxer briefs and a flowy button up. His hair is unstyled as well, but falls beautifully without trying. You share his state, wearing one of his briefs because they are terribly comfortable. 

“And? It’s great, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s good”, you tell him. 

“Come on, it’s better than good. It’s great”, Yoongi says and moves back to you in little dance steps. He moves his hips as he does, giving you an open mouthed smile. 

You giggle, stepping off bed when Yoongi stretches his hands to you. 

He twirls you and catches you in a way so that your back is pressed against his chest and your arms are crossed in front of your chest, hands being held by him. He hums the melody, moving your bodies to the beat and nuzzling into your neck to kiss it gently. 

He makes you feel so good that you can’t stop giggling. 

“See? You’re into it now, aren’t you?” he rasps.

“You know I am”, you sigh, tilting your head to the side, “I love that.”

“Mhm, love it too”, Yoongi says, kissing your cheek. He lifts his gaze, locking eyes with Jungkook. He twirls you and him so he gets closer to Kook. Once he is, he leans in and kisses Jungkook on his lips. Just once.

“And you? Still think it’s a stupid idea?”

“I never said that. I just said that I didn’t think you’d be into this kinda stuff.”

“What? Listening to music whilst spending time with my two favourite people?” Yoongi ruffles Jungkook’s long hair, “think again”, he says and then draws closer to you. 

He hugs you tighter, taking bigger steps to draw circles with you on the impromptu dance floor. 

You squeal and giggle, trying your hardest to keep up. Yoongi gazes at you with his eyes barely open. He is smiling so much that he is squinting. Every now and then, you get a very passionately sung passage of song from him, followed by a soft kiss or tender snuggle. 

Jungkook watches the two of you with happy giggles in his chest. He is bouncing on the bed, swinging his legs back and forth as he sports the biggest and brightest smile in humankind. He is sharing your state of clothing. Tight briefs and a shirt. No button up, but a soft cotton shirt with its sleeves ending just a little above his elbows. It’s been summer for a while and the days are hot. So you and your perfect lovers spend your hours wearing as little clothing as possible, always making sure that the fibers were natural and light. 

It was the hours of the last sun right now. One more hour and she will have set for the day. Jungkook’s wing was located at the north end of the castle which meant his rooms were already a lot dimmer than, say, Jimin’s rooms. But you didn’t really mind. Jungkook has already turned on his galaxy lamp, which will illuminate the room once the sun has truly said good night. 

Jungkook finished renovations on his wing in spring. It was a beautiful home. The rooms were spacious with high ceilings and big windows and Jungkook filled them with a mixture of modern and old furniture. He even asked you to propagate a few plants for him, which you very happily did. Up until now, he hadn’t killed any of them yet and he even purchased grow lights for the ones who needed a bit more light. 

Jungkook chose to make the smallest of his rooms his bedroom. Now bear in mind, small was still relatively big when one dares to compare it to the bedroom of common apartments, but it was still the smallest room in his wing (except his bathroom and toilet of course). Jungkook explained the reasoning behind his choice that he would rather have his own cozy living room and a big home studio and turn his bedroom into a cozy little escape. He truly managed to do so and you just so happen to spend time in it today. 

The song changes. Yoongi stops dancing, hugging you against him with his lips glued to your neck.

“Mhm love”, you sigh. 

“You’re amazing", he whispers and kisses you one last time before he breaks away to strut to the bed, “but tell me that I’m right. The music’s setting the scene.”

“Of course it is. I feel properly charmed”, you say and giggle, chasing Yoongi to hug him from behind. 

He stumbles and laughs, holding your hands instantly.

“You’re the cutest, my love”, you tell him.

“No, you are”, he says, lifting you onto his back piggyback style.

“Yoongi no”, you squeak. 

“Mine”, he teases and with an expert twirl, manages to place you atop the bed. Right next to Jungkook. You laugh loudly as you get set down, wiggling happily once you are on the sheets. 

Jungkook turns to you, placing his arm over your waist and leaning down for a kiss. One you accept gladly and one which feels oh so impossible to continue when you suddenly feel Yoongi’s lips dance up your inner thighs mere seconds later. 

In the end, you have to break the kiss just to gasp and arch your back. Yoongi is bunching up the legs of your boxers, exposing more and more of your sensitive skin to his eager lips. 

“Yoongi…” you sigh. 

Jungkook turns, looking at Yoongi with his tummy fluttering in excitement. The Creator has his eyes closed in bliss, allowing his strong hands to run over your skin with utmost care. He looks so content with his current position. Jungkook feels heat gather between his legs at the view.

“Shouldn’t that be me?” he asks in a teasing manner.

Yoongi lust-darkened eyes open and flit to Jungkook. He lifts his head even if you whine in disappointment.

“Yeah it should be”, Yoongi says, running his big hands up and down your thighs as he speaks, “I’m ready whenever you two are.”

“I’m so ready”, Jungkook says.

“Me too”, you say. 

“That’s good to hear. Kookie, take off your clothes. Princess, do you wanna help me with the ropes?”

“Yes, Master.” “Of course.”

You and Jungkook say at the same time and seconds later, you each are off to do your own things. Jungkook undresses while you and Yoongi discuss the ropes you will use on his body.

You all agreed to it. Tonight will be the night Jungkook finally eats you out. Yoongi assured you that it was perfectly safe and then the planning began. Jungkook knew that he needed ropes to feel safe, so Yoongi promised him to do Shibari with him and tie his arms behind his back. You knew that you wanted to help, so Yoongi told you that you could. And Yoongi is just here for the good time. He fucking loves spending time with you and Jungkook. 

“Done”, Jungkook says.

You and Yoongi turn to him.

The good boy is kneeling on the floor with perfect posture. His hands are on his thighs with their palms facing up, his back is perfectly straight and his head is held high. He looks at you without ever breaking eye contact, breathing heavily because this is terribly exciting to him.

“Look at you”, you say, “you really know what to do, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress”, Jungkook says, eyes lighting up in pride.

“You’re such a good boy for us”, Yoongi praises.

Jungkook squeezes his thighs together and straightens up even more.

“Thank you, Master”, he gets out, having to fight for air afterwards.

You and Yoongi close the distance between you and Jungkook. While you reach for his cheek to caress it, Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair. Jungkook closes his eyes instantly, parting his lips in a soft, audible sigh. He feels the tingles all the way down to his toes.

“Isn’t he the prettiest?” you ask Yoongi.

“Yeah, he is”, Yoongi agrees.

Jungkook giggles, having to squirm away from you because he felt way too shy under your praise. Cute.

“Do you wanna stand up for us now, mhm?”

“Yes, Master”, Jungkook says and with Yoongi’s help, gets to his feet.

You and Yoongi study his naked form. Sculpted muscles he obtained from hard and consistent training, smooth and shaved skin and cock just hard enough that it is starting to rise. He is beautiful indeed.

“You’re so handsome, Kookie”, Yoongi says.

“You really are”, you say, rounding him so you can trace his back. His butt looks so good. You dare to steal a touch, while Jungkook gasps and then exhales shakily, tensing his muscles for you, “you’ve got the cutest butt, sweetie.”

“Thank you”, Jungkook mumbles and giggles.

Yoongi steps closer to him while you continue to feel up his body. Jungkook wants to close his eyes because of it, but doesn’t as Yoongi looks at him. He cups his cheek, running his thumb over his skin.

“I’m gonna monitor your thoughts throughout the session, so can you take off your ring?” he asks.

“Of course. Do you think I’m dangerous?” Jungkook asks, slipping off his magic ring.

“No, but I just want to make sure. It’s for you too, so you feel assured that I know if I have to step in, yeah?” Yoongi explains, accepting the ring to slip it into his shirt’s front pocket.

“Yes, thank you for looking out for me. I feel a lot more at ease when I know you will catch me slipping.”

“Mhm, although I don’t think you will. You’re ready."

“I feel ready.”

“You are”, Yoongi gives Jungkook’s cheek a soft pinch and then he steps back, undoing the knot of the ropes, “let’s start with tying. Yeah?”

“Yes, just tell me what to do.”

“Relax, we’ll take care of you", Yoongi says and looks at you, “may I give you the end?”

“Of course”, you say, snaking your arms around Jungkook just to snatch the ends. Jungkook leans into you instinctively, holding his breath. He is so, so excited. He loves being Yoongi’s rope bunny and to know that you are also with them this session excites him even more.

“Now let’s start”, you say, “my love, can you come look if I’m doing it right?”

“Sure.”

“I bet you’re doing really well”, Jungkook says, earning himself a little touch to his waist. 

“Cutie.”

Yoongi teaches you a new pattern today, explaining the correct ways of tying and the places of pressure you need to look out for in order not to cause pain. You go slow, touching the spots you needed to place the rope over and feeling up his body whenever you get the chance. You mess up a few times, but don’t feel embarrassed about it as Yoongi praises you and Jungkook tells you that he is having the time of his life.

And he has. Being touched and explored and taken care of by his two favourite people feels like paradise to him. Having the rope slowly constrain more and more of his movements whilst at the same time giving him a sensation of comfort felt like a beautiful hug to him. Listening to you and Yoongi talk relaxed him as well.

“There we go, you got it”, Yoongi praises, “now go under this loop and tighten it on this part.”

“Okay, okay”, you say, tickling Jungkook’s skin as you guide the rope.

“That part feels so good”, Jungkook sighs, wiggling his arms a little. 

“Stay calm, sweetheart”, Yoongi tells him, caressing his waist. 

“Sorry, Master I feel so good”, Jungkook apologises, blushing like crazy. 

“That’s okay, just try to keep your arms still yeah?”

“Yes Master, I will try.”

“I promise I’m almost finished, baby”, you assure him.

“Yes okay, take your time Mistress”, Jungkook says and lowers his eyes in comfort, “I feel so good”, he whispers.

“Us too, baby”, you say and finish the knot, “look Boongie, I did it.”

“Perfect my love, now guide the ropes to the front, we’ll need the ends for the hip pieces later”, Yoongi tells you.

“Okay, okay”, you follow, dropping the ropes once they tangle in the front. You hug Jungkook’s waist, kissing his arm, “how are you feeling?”

“Amazing”, Jungkook says and tilts his head back, “I’m so safe.”

“You are”, Yoongi says.

“You really are, our sweet baby”, you add and the round him, joining Yoongi’s side.

Jungkook’s arms are both tied up in the back, held up by an intricate pattern of rope and knots. The pattern is simple in the front, as most of the art was done along his arms. It looked beautiful on his body.

“You are seriously made for Shibari”, you say, “I can’t believe how pretty you are.”

“You’re seriously so pretty”, Yoongi says.

“Guys stop”, Jungkook complains and giggles, swaying his shoulders from side to side.

“Why?”

“Because it’s making me shy”, he pouts, “I don’t like that.”

You smile, “you’re so cute.”

“Mhm. Now about the wish you had”, Yoongi says, “do you still wanna do it?”

“Yes, I want to do it”, Jungkook says, looking at you, “do you think that you can enchant the ropes?”

“I think I can. I studied the spell a lot”, you say, “are you really okay with me trying out the spell on you? You’d be the first person I’d do it on.”

“Yes, I’m okay with it. I trust you.”

“Okay, so”, you turn to Yoongi, “I just have to touch the ropes and think the words, yeah? Like I practiced?” 

“Yes, you should feel heat in your fingertips and Kook, you should feel tingles as if electricity was coursing through you. Anything other than that and you are stopping us.”

“I understand.”

“Okay then, here goes nothing”, you murmur and begin the spell. Yoongi rubs your back as you work while Jungkook sighs in bliss and gazes at you with sparkling eyes. Yoongi was right. His skin tingles electrically wherever the rope touches. He really likes the sensation.

“I think I’m done”, you say. The electricity stops. Jungkook is a little sad that it did. It felt so good.

Yoongi wraps his fingers around the rope and tugs. Jungkook falls into him with a squeak, getting caught by Yoongi. 

“Careful”, he laughs, rubbing his back.

“Sorry, I wasn’t ready”, Jungkook says, using the opportunity to nuzzle his nose into Yoongi’s neck, “you tugged so hard, Master”, he whines.

“I know, I’m sorry baby”, Yoongi says, patting Jungkook’s butt, “but the good news is, the spell worked. Good job, princess. That was amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“That was nothing really”, you say and snicker, “I feel so cool right now.”

“You are so cool”, Yoongi says and smiles fondly, “com’ere.”

You snuggle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder as he closes his arm around you.

“My two babies”, he says, “mhm? You’re my babies, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are”, you say while Jungkook merely whimpers and continues to suckle on Yoongi’s neck. No teeth are involved. It is merely a simple and tender sucking motion. It soothes Jungkook greatly, whilst leaving Yoongi with a comfortable tingle down his back.

“Do you like that, mhm?” he asks in a whisper.

Jungkook purrs, nodding his head. He slips his lips from his neck, but stays close enough that they brush against his skin as he talks, “you taste so good, Master. I like doing that.”

“You’re cute”, Yoongi says and drags Jungkook away with a gentle tug to his hair, “I need you to stand still for a little while longer, yeah? I know you want to suck, but be patient. You wanted us to tie up your cock as well and we need to do that still.”

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, I’m so greedy.”

“It’s okay, Kookie. Now let us take care of you, yeah?”

“Yes, Master”, Jungkook gets out and moans softly, tilting his head back, “oh god”, he whispers under his breath.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m so excited.”

“Mhm, that’s good to hear”, Yoongi smiles and looks at you, “princess, look I’ll show you the pattern.”

“Yes, okay”, you say, watching him work with a tingling stomach.

“First you start off by connecting the new rope with the old. You do it like this.”

“I see, that's easy. What then?”

“Then we need to guide the rope around his thigh. Kookie, part your legs for us.” 

Jungkook follows happily, tingling like crazy when Yoongi guides the soft rope over his skin. He wraps it around the uppermost part of his thigh. Along the path a pair of panties would take. Afterwards he lets you guide the rope along his back and down around the other thigh.

“And now to the fun part. Are you ready for it, Kookie?”

“I can’t wait”, Jungkook gets out, wheezing in excitement.

Jungkook has the most reactive cock ever. Yoongi merely has to come close to it and it practically twitching into his hand in hopes of being touched.

“Needy”, Yoongi teases, sending Jungkook a playful look.

“I know”, he whispers, “I’m so needy and, and…needy.”

Yoongi chuckles, “you’re cute”, he says and cups Jungkook’s balls. 

“Yoongi”, the latter moans instantly, feeling his knees buckle. 

Yoongi massages his balls gently, making sure to dig his thumb into the parts which give Jungkook just the smallest bolts of pain. He likes stuff like that, leaking like crazy because of it. 

“See that?” Yoongi speaks calmly, “see how he’s starting to leak?”

“I do, yeah”, you rasp. 

“Feel it.”

You close your fingers around Jungkook’s cock.

“___”, Jungkook moans, stumbling to catch his balance, “oh god, please”, and here he goes, begging for you. It’s what he is best at. Begging, pleading and acting like a needy boy. 

You run your hand up and down his throbbing cock, paying special attention to his tip. It’s so wet and hot. 

“That’s it, feel him up. I need you to remember how he should be before you start the knot”, Yoongi praises and guides the rope around the base of Jungkook’s cock. 

“Please”, Jungkook begs, but you ignore him.

“Keep this part snug, but make sure that it doesn’t pinch and keep touching his tip. We need him to be wet for the next part.”

“Do we really? What does it do?”

Yoongi gives you a dark smirk, “just keeping it more interesting.”

“I see, fuck that’s so hot”, you say, massaging Jungkook’s leaking tip with just enough pressure that soft squelching sounds fill the air.

“This is gonna make me cum”, Jungkook chokes out, whimpering loudly afterwards, “oh god, please.”

You ignore him, watching with a dripping pussy as Yoongi guides the rope around the base of Jungkook’s balls.

“That’s where you can start applying pressure. Once it’s around his balls, you have to guide the rope along them so they are parted. Like this.”

“Woah that looks like it hurts.”

You and Yoongi sneak a glance at Jungkook. He doesn’t even realise that you do, moaning with parted lips and his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Trust me, it doesn’t”, Yoongi says and smirks, “now wrap it around one more time and tighten it.”

Yoongi tightens it with a pull. Jungkook gasps and tries to close his legs, making Yoongi look up at him.

“Too tight?”

“No. No just…my cock is so hard”, Jungkook gets out and moans softly, “oh god the pressure on my balls is so intense.”

“I know, you’re such a pretty boy, taking it so well”, Yoongi praises and closes the knot, “the rope will help you concentrate.”

“Thank you, Master. You’re taking such great care of me.”

“Don’t just thank me”, Yoongi says and seconds later, Jungkook feels your thumb massage his leaking slit.

“Mistress”, Jungkook sighs, falling into you. His lips are on your neck instantly, suckling on your skin, “Mistress, thank you”, he croaks between his sucks, “you feel so good, Mistress.”

“Mhhm”, you purr, caressing his nape while your fingers work his tied up cock, “call me Mommy tonight.”

Yoongi stills, looking at you with honest surprise. He gawks and blinks, gawks and blinks. You give him a cocky raise of your right eyebrow, one that flusters him so greatly that he ends up looking down with his cheeks heating up. His hand comes up to rub the side of his neck immediately.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is melting into a puddle of utter submission. He writhes and presses into you, tensing his tummy so much his cock twitches in your hand.  

“Yes Mommy”, he gets out and giggles, “I love that name, Mommy.”

“You’re such a good boy, my baby”, you praise him, kissing his cheek, “now.”

You slip your hand away.

“Noo, Mommy don’t stop”, Jungkook begs, “please.” 

“I’d love to baby, but I need to undress.”

“Okay”, Jungkook sniffles, “oh god I’m so horny, Mommy.”

“Me too, babyboy.”

And with that you step back, running your eyes up and down Jungkook’s tied up body while your fingers slip to your shirt. You manage to open one button when Yoongi steps in.

“Wait. Let me”, he offers, hovering his hands above yours. You smile, lowering your arms.

“I won’t stop you, love.”

Yoongi touches your shirt instantly, unbuttoning it carefully and staring deep into your eyes. 

“Since when are you into this?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Being called Mommy.”

“Mhm don’t know. I think it’s hot in the bedroom.”

“Mhm, yeah”, Yoongi agrees and kisses your newly exposed shoulder, “I wanna eat you whole, fuck you’re so perfect.”

You giggle, “what do I hear in your voice, mhm?” you tease.

“Whatever you think you’re hearing, you’re right”, Yoongi says and kisses your neck, opening the last of your buttons. He slips his hand under the shirt and takes it off.

“Mhm, Yoongi love”, you purr, tilting your head back as he explores your vulnerable throat and presses your body into his’, “you tempt me.”

“I know”, he whispers, “that’s the plan.”

He slips off your panties, letting them drop to the ground. One second later and he sweeps you off your feet, twirling around to get you on bed and under him.

“Yoongi”, you laugh in a squeak, feeling dizzy from being handled so quickly.

“My princess”, he sighs, kissing your neck as his right hand holds your thigh and tugs it snug against his waist. Like this, he can roll his hips into you, grinding his clothed cock against your naked pussy. He is as hard as you are wet.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, “Yoongi, this feels so good.”

“It does. You do”, he guides his pouty lips to your ear, “all I wanna do is fuck you till you can’t walk, but I know I shouldn’t. Fuck princess, it takes everything inside me not to take you right here and now.”

“Don’t talk like this, you know what this does to me”, you whine and arch your back.

Yoongi chuckles, pecking your cheek, “wait here, my love.”

And with that he breaks away, climbing off the bed to get to Jungkook.

“Now you”, Yoongi places his hands on Jungkook’s hips, “I’ll help you.”

And with that, he lifts Jungkook onto the bed, making him kneel in front of you. 

“There we go”, Yoongi says, “now you’re looking pretty. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes”, Jungkook whispers.

“Good. How’s the pressure on your balls. The new position adds something, doesn’t it?”

“It feels so good”, Jungkook mewls and leaks a little. 

“Mhm, I see. God look at you, you’re so wet”, he says, running his fingertips through the sticky mess.

Jungkook moans, chasing Yoongi with parted lips and his eyes glued to his mouth.  

“Daddy…”

“Huh?" 

“I-”, Jungkook gulps, “sorry. I just, just. Oh god. I’m sorry it, it was because of, of ___ and her wish and then I, I thought about what Hobi said that, that you guys can be my Mommy and D-Daddy, oh god I’m so sor-”

Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Yoongi kisses him deeply. So deep in fact that once their kiss breaks, Jungkook has to whimper and Yoongi is out of breath. 

“Fucking say it again, I dare you”, Yoongi rasps. 

“Daddy?” Jungkook whispers.

“Fuck”, Yoongi moans deeply, twisting a big bundle of Jungkook’s hair just to tilt his head back and run his tongue over his throat.

Jungkook moans squeakily, gasping for air.

“I’m gonna treat you so right, babyboy”, Yoongi rasps, “you fucking drive me insane.”

“Oh god, Daddy”, Jungkook moans, “that feels so good.”

“Mhhm it does. You do”, Yoongi can’t stop his wandering hands from feeling and squeezing Jungkook’s body.

He even does it so aggressively that Jungkook looses balance and falls. Kind of. Yoongi catches him before he can, pulling him back to his knees. 

Yoongi’s eager fumbling stops, he stares and blinks. Jungkook stares and pants. 

“Sorry, I was rough.”

“It’s okay, Yoongi”, Jungkook says and blushes, “no. Daddy”, he adds and giggles, lowering his eyes shyly.

“You’re so cute, fuck”, Yoongi presses out and kisses his cheek, “now wanna make our princess feel good?”

“Yes, oh god”, Jungkook almost yells the words from how excited he was. 

“Eager”, Yoongi teases and chuckles. He ruffles Jungkook’s hair before crawling back to you. 

You are panting like crazy, staring at them with glassy eyes. You forgot to blink, doing so once Yoongi cups your cheek.

“Hey there”, he says softly.

“Hey”, you get out.

“Ready for the next step?”

“Yes”, you nod your head enthusiastically, “I’m so ready.”

“That’s good to hear”, Yoongi says, rounding you, “sit up.”

You follow. Yoongi claims the emptiness behind you, placing his arm around your waist. He presses his lips against the shell of your ear.

“Lean into me, my love”, he breathes, ending it with a soft nibble to your lobe.

You fall with your eyes closing, finding refuge against his strong chest. You feel so incredibly safe like this.

“That’s it, relax. I’ve got you, my princess”, he whispers and places his legs over yours so he can nudge you open, “can you spread yourself for us, mhm?” 

You nod your head and follow, moaning softly when he rewards you by kissing your neck. 

“That’s it. Mhhm, I can smell you like this. Sweet like heaven”, he purrs and moans raspily, “that’s gotta be the best scent ever.”

His words make you writhe and whimper. All you want is his touch, “please...” you whisper, knowing that you won’t get it soon. He is in a teasing mood.

“I can smell you too, Mommy”, Jungkook throws in, shimmying closer on his knees, “I’m dizzy because of you.”

“She’s heaven, isn’t she?“

“Yeah, heaven”, Jungkook agrees, gawking at your exposed pussy. You are so wet and puffy already. Jungkook drools so much that it drips out the corners of his mouth, “so pretty”, he murmurs even if talking is hard.

“Ever ate out a woman before, Kook?” Yoongi asks.

“Yes, my human girlfriend”, Jungkook says and gulps, “it’s been too long.”

“Mhm don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna teach you”, he says and slides his hand down to your pussy, “look at what I’m doing with my fingers.”

Jungkook watches hungrily, drooling all over the sheets with his lips parted. 

“Can I start touching you, love?” Yoongi asks, hovering his fingers over your pussy. All he needs is your consent. He aches for a touch as much as you.

“Please don’t ask anymore, I want you so bad”, you get out and mewl. 

“Mhm so sweet”, he purrs and connects his fingers with your pussy. He drags them through your folds, picking up your pleasure just to spread it on your clit in slow circles. 

The sensation makes your toes curl and for your hands to twist the sheets. You moan, pressing back into him. Like this, you can feel his hard cock poke your lower back. He purrs deeply because of it, rewarding you with a slow massage on your sensitive clit.

“Fuck. Yoongi”, you moan breathily, feeling charged in electric pleasure. His touch is so soft and gentle and yet it is already too much. You don’t want him to ever stop.

“See that?” Yoongi says, “keep it focused on her clit and she’ll make the sweetest sounds”, he explains and makes you moan with an expert touch, “hear that? That’s what I’m talking about. Good girl, you’re doing such a good job taking me like that”, he says and cuddles closer to kiss your heated cheek. Truly, your skin is so hot to the touch. And it’s solely Yoongi’s fault. You moan, sliding your hand to his thigh instead. You squeeze him and Yoongi rewards you with more pressure on your clit, forcing you to moan once again.

“Hear that, babyboy?”

“Yes Daddy, I hear it. It’s so good”, Jungkook lulls, “oh god, I wanna taste. Mommy, your pussy looks so yummy.”

“Beg nicely and I’ll let you taste”, Yoongi orders.

“Please can I taste her, Daddy?”

“Mhhm”, Yoongi hums and slides his fingers from your clit to instead tease your leaking entrance. The touch is just as good as the other was. You squeeze his thigh and moan softly, leaking all over his fingers, “that’s it, princess. You’re such a good girl getting so wet for us.”

“Yoongi”, you mewl and to your utter dismay, he slips his fingers away, “no wait, more.”

“Patience, love. We gotta feed our babyboy, yeah?”

You mewl, opening your eyes slowly to Jungkook’s submissive state. He is panting and drooling, looking at your pussy with hazy eyes and parted lips. Fuck. Yoongi touched you so good that you almost forgot about what the actual plan for today was and now you are almost bursting in excitement.

“Open your mouth, Kookie”, Yoongi orders, wiggling his wet fingers slowly.

Jungkook obeys, spilling his drool everywhere. Yoongi doesn’t mind, lifting his coated fingers to drag them over Jungkook’s tongue. 

Jungkook moans loudly and swallows them whole immediately, sucking harshly with his head bobbing up and down on Yoongi’s digits and his cock leaking precum like crazy. He whimpers and moans, spilling tears because of how good it tastes.

“There we go. Get used to the taste. Doesn’t Mommy taste heavenly, babyboy?”

Jungkook mewls a yes, swirling his tongue over Yoongi's long fingers. He needs every single droplet of your sweetness coating his tongue. You taste so good. Jungkook has never tasted something as addicting and saccharine before. Not even blood leaves him feeling that dizzy. No wonder that Yoongi can’t seem to get enough of eating you out.

He always understood the Creator, but now he truly gets him. You are the best and most amazing addictive taste. 

“That’s it”, Yoongi says, slipping his fingers free even if that means Jungkook’s drool spills everywhere in thick strings.

Jungkook snatches for Yoongi’s fingers, “please”, he begs, spilling tears.

“Patience”, Yoongi says, connecting his slick covered fingers with your pussy. The touch is so warm that you tense up and shudder, arching your back even if that squishes Yoongi’s cock.

The latter seems to like it, giving you a little moan into the crook of your neck before he kisses it. “one more time”, he is talking to you, “can I slip my fingers inside to coat them for our Kookie, mhm?”

“Please”, you beg, opening your legs further.

“That’s my princess, take a deep breath I’m slipping inside”, he talks sweetly and lets two of his wet, long fingers disappear inside your pussy. He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in circles as he pumps his digits in and out of you.

“Yoongi”, you gasp and press out a shaky moan. Honestly, it borders a sob. His touch feels too good. You can barely handle it.

Jungkook in the meantime, searches for your taste. He lowers his head, gawking at your stuffed pussy with blown out pupils and his tongue sticking out of his mouth. He is panting like a dog that way, feeling barely human in desperation.

He is so close to your cunt that he can watch how Yoongi’s thick fingers make your puffy lips move around them. Your slick sticks to his skin and hair, filling Jungkook’s (and Yoongi’s) nose with a mindnumbing sweetness. You are so turned on that sloppy, wet sounds join the music. Jungkook’s ears pick them up and send the pleasure straight to his leaking cock. He is glad for the ropes around it. Without it, he would have already climaxed from all the sensations.

“Daddy”, Jungkook moans.

“Yes, babyboy?”

“Daddy, Mommy’s pussy is so pretty”, he gets out and whimpers, “can I taste, please?”

“Open up.”

Jungkook obeys. Yoongi slips out of your pussy quickly to make sure that he is thoroughly coated. Then, without warning, he shoves his fingers into Jungkook’s mouth in their entirety, forcing him to gag in surprise. Only once because then your taste fills Jungkook’s veins and he becomes needy in hunger and he begins moving around Yoongi’s fingers quickly.

He sucks and slurps and moans like a hungry little animal, switching between closing his eyes and looking at your pussy. He ends up closing his eyes more than he gazes however, the view of your perfect, wet cunt was too much to handle.

And while Jungkook cleans Yoongi’s wet fingers, Yoongi travels his unoccupied hand up your body until he can rest it around your throat. He tilts your head to the side this way, making space for his lips on your neck.

“I know you’re desperate”, he whispers, “I know you wanna cum, but let me take care of it, yeah?”

“Yoongi, I’m so-”, you whimper, arching your back.

“I know, my princess, I know. But you can trust me, I’ll make sure you feel so, so good. Just trust me, my love”, he whispers and kisses your neck where it is most sensitive, ending it with a gentle bite. One which doesn’t pierce or hurt, but one which sends bolts of pleasure to your warmth, “can you do that for me? Can you trust me that I’ll take care of your orgasm, mhm?”

“Yes, Yoongi”, you whimper, wetting the sheets with new layers of your pleasure.

“Thank you so much, my love. You’re making me so, so happy”, Yoongi coos and rewards you with another soft bite. He ends it with a flick of his tongue and a little kiss, moving on to massage your nipples as he cradles your breast in his big, warm hand.

And you fall back into moaning and feeling too charged in pleasure, wishing for this to never end.

Yoongi switches his eyes to Jungkook, resting his chin on your shoulder for comfort. His fingers are cleaned again. He slips them free even if Jungkook sobs in denial.

“You did such a good job cleaning them”, Yoongi says, “now tell me the capital of France.” This is a concentration game. If Jungkook was still in control he will answer easily, if he is on the brink of losing control he won’t.

“Paris”, Jungkook chokes out, trembling in desperation, “please more. Please can I eat your pussy, Mommy?”

“Very good. One last question and then I’ll allow you”, Yoongi says, “tell me what’s thirty divided by five?”

“I uh, fuck”, Jungkook gulps, “I’m, I’m bad at maths. Six!” he looks up at Yoongi with big puppy eyes, “it’s six. Please I knew it! Please let me have her.”

“Good job”, Yoongi smiles proudly, “now look at my hand.”

Jungkook obeys, gawking with bated breath.

“Can I let Jungkook eat your pussy now?” he makes sure.

“Yes please”, you beg, leaking in anticipation.

“Such a good girl, mhm princess”, he praises and places two of his fingers on your pussy. He spreads your folds gently, revealing your clit to Jungkook’s eyes, “stick your tongue out and flick it over her clit.”

Jungkook obeys. He does it once and then everything escalates. You moan loudly and tremble like crazy while Jungkook growls and fucks the mattress. Yoongi laughs at the view, hugging you close whilst placing his other hand on Jungkook’s forehead to keep him at a distance for now.

“Calm down you two, calm down”, he speaks gently, “I can’t have you acting like such needy animals, yeah?”

“But…please”, you beg, bucking your hips up and almost smothering Jungkook with your heat. Almost. Oh how heartbreaking it is that it was only almost. You need to feel his tongue so fucking bad.

“Please Daddy, I’ll behave. I, I promise please. Please”, Jungkook pleads, spilling tears from his ruby eyes, “I can’t take it anymore, please I wanna have her pussy”, he croaks and sobs.

“So eager”, Yoongi teases and chuckles, “you’re so cute. The both of you.”

He dances his hand back to your pussy and parts your folds again. You tense up in anticipation, holding your breath. Jungkook squeaks and moves closer, but still waits for Yoongi’s command.

“Go ahead, do it again.”

Jungkook moans and connects his mouth with your pussy in such hunger that for a moment he has Yoongi’s fingers under his tongue as well. Yoongi merely smiles and lets it happen, hugging your trembling body against him as you let out a desperate moan.

“That’s it, such a good boy”, he praises Jungkook and then kisses your neck, “try to breathe my love. I know he’s being really sloppy right now, but I need you to keep breathing.”

It’s hard. What Yoongi asks of you to do is impossible when all you can do is moan, gasp for air, hold your breath and release it as a moan. Over and over again. In a needy, uncoordinated pattern of numbing pleasure.

Jungkook is so sloppy in the way he eats you out. It doesn’t help that Yoongi is keeping you parted for his tongue and therefore exposing the most sensitive spots to his eager tongue. Jungkook switches between swirling his entire tongue over it and then attempting to suck on it like a lollipop. He is drooling uncontrollably, adding to your own wetness to the point where Yoongi has a hard time keeping his grip on your pussy.

“Please”, you beg, feeling your legs shake like crazy, “please, please, please.”

“Keep breathing, babygirl. Keep breathing”, Yoongi encourages you, “trust me, yeah? I have everything under control, just keep breathing.”

You have to grip his other thigh too, squeezing it to the point where red bruises from on his fair skin. They heal within seconds, but the sensation stays behind. Pressure and slight pain. Yoongi runs on it like a maniac. It’s so arousing to him to watch and feel you lose control. He hugs you closer even if that increases the pressure on his leaking cock and then kisses your neck. He slips his fingers from your pussy and grips Jungkook’s hair, tugging his mouth away from your pussy.

“No”, you gasp, arching your back in agony, “no, please. Back. No. Please.”

Jungkook begs just as desperately, spilling tears.

“See?” Yoongi ignores your pain, “I have everything under control. Now you can breathe for a bit.”

“You are so cruel”, you mewl and sob, “I was so close….”

“I know princess”, Yoongi purrs and kisses your cheek, “how are you doing, Kookie?”

“Please let me have her again, please”, Jungkook speaks with tears in his voice, “I need her again, please.”

“Mhhm”, Yoongi acknowledges him and kisses your cheek, “how about you, love? Did you breathe enough?”

“Yes, yes please. I did. I just want to, yes”, you stutter, making him chuckle.

“Very well”, Yoongi lets go of Jungkook’s hair and places his hand next to your pussy. Warm and big it rests there safely, reminding you how wonderful it feels to be held by him. “dive in again, babyboy.”

Jungkook follows his commands without thanking him for it. He is too eager to taste you again. He wraps his lips around your clit and begins switching between licking you and sucking you. There is no pattern behind it, but you don’t mind because no matter how he would eat your pussy right now, you would still feel as ruined and broken as you do right now. Jungkook’s mouth is warm and so wet. No words could ever describe just how intense it feels to be tasted by him.

You squeeze Yoongi’s thighs again and moan between your struggles for air, spilling all over the sheets and Jungkook’s face while you are at it.

And while you think that you are the most ruined right now, it isn’t the truth. Jungkook is. He can’t stop crying ever since his tongue connected with your clit. This is a dream come true. No. This is his biggest dream come true. All he wanted, ever since you and he became lovers, was to taste your pussy. He watched Yoongi go down on you a million times before, witnessed Taehyung doing the same and he was always left aching for a taste and wondering how wonderful it must be to love you in such a way.

And now he finally has you. He has you under his tongue, has your taste coating every single inch of his mouth and throat, has you moaning because of him and has you filling his nose with your sweet scent. Jungkook is so ruined by all of this that he can’t stop crying, sobbing into your pussy as he grinds his tongue over your clit.

Just one more time and then Yoongi pulls his head away again.

“Please Yoongi!” you beg loudly, mirroring the utter agony Jungkook feels.

He tugs on his ropes, trying to fight free but failing miserably. Yoongi chuckles because of it, soothing you with kisses to your neck until you finally calm down again. Just enough that he knows it is safe for Jungkook to taste you again.

He pushes the wiggling vampire down, smothering him with your pussy this way.

You wail up while Jungkook sobs and begins sucking on your pussy again. He searches for your tastes this time around. He loves your clit, but right now he needs your taste straight from the source. He lays down on his tummy even if that squishes his cock and puts tension into the rope around his balls. It hurts, but Jungkook likes it. It hurts a lot actually, forcing him to fuck the mattress in sync with his tongue slipping into your hole.

“Look at you”, Yoongi says, “you’re so fucking greedy.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him. He is lost. Officially gone. Your pussy is pulsating around his tongue, your taste keeps spilling and spilling and spilling into his mouth, your scent is suffocating him. Jungkook swears this is the reason why he lives. He buries himself deeper and sticks his tongue out as far as it can go. He needs to merge with you. Please don’t let this end.

“So greedy, god you’re so greedy”, Yoongi taunts and slides his thumb to your clit. His hand he keeps resting on you, using the slick Jungkook left behind to give your clit a gentle massage up and down.

“Yoongi”, your voice doesn’t sound like you anymore. Your body wants to shake, but doesn’t know how anymore, tensing and convulsing between his legs. You reach up and grab a bundle of his hair, twisting it to the point where it hurts.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here”, Yoongi whispers, “fuck”, he growls when you tug harder, “fuck, princess relax your fingers. Mhm? Can you do that for me?”

You only tug harder and sob his name and Yoongi knows that it is time. He abandons your clit and tugs Jungkook away.

“Please, you fuck”, the words spill out of you. You didn’t even know that they did until Yoongi chuckles and bites your neck to the point where it stings but never breaks. You whimper, feeling just a little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry my love, I promise this was the last time”, he whispers sickeningly sweet, kissing the spot he bit, “now take a deep breath for me.”

“You’re lying, you’re just saying that”, you mewl and sob softly, “please let me cum, please.”

“Breathe princess, breathe”, Yoongi whispers and runs his hand to Jungkook’s cheek. He cups it and tilts his head up as best as the position allows him to.

His tears ruined his cheeks, his eyes barely stay open and his pink lips are puffy and wet from your pussy.

“I know you’re angry at me, but I promise you can have her again very soon”, he speaks softly, running his thumb over Jungkook’s swollen upper lip, “I’ll let you make her cum now, but first I need to make sure you’re still with us. Tell us three blue fruits.”

“B-blueberry”, Jungkook can barely speak. He is so far gone, “and, and plums and..and…I don’t know”, he sobs, “I don’t know any more fruits please just let me have her, please Daddy.”

“Fine. You did well with two”, he says and slips his hand to your pussy. He parts your folds, “there’s grapes, by the way”, he adds, “or açaí berries.”

But Jungkook can’t hear him. He connects his mouth with your pussy and licks up your taste messily, moaning and sobbing in gratefulness while you do the same in desperation.

You twist Yoongi’s hair to the point of pain again and press into him, putting so much pressure on his cock that it gets hard for him to keep his eyes open. But he tries. He tries for you and for himself. Watching Jungkook eat your pussy is the hottest view to him. To have him grind his face against you and to watch how your pussy hugs his lower face makes him so fucking hard that it gets difficult to function. To know that this right now was the round where he will finally let you orgasm, messes with his sanity even more. Yoongi slips his unoccupied hand to your chest and begins playing with your nipples.

You tense up and abandon his thigh to instead grab a bundle of Jungkook’s hair. You tug with the same amount of strength you do with Yoongi, wailing up in ecstasy. If Yoongi pulls away again, you will actually break apart. This would ruin you. All you need is to climax. Yoongi’s long fingers on your nipples and pussy and Jungkook’s wet mouth on your clit. The sensations are too much. You need to cum or else you will shatter.

“I’m cumming, please”, you sob in a breathy voice.

“Don’t hold back, my love. I’m right here”, Yoongi encourages you and pinches your nipple in sync with his lips kissing your neck.

You let out a loud wail and break on Jungkook’s tongue. The edging made you so sensitive that you have no control over how hard the orgasm hits you. It’s hot and so intense that you have to grab the nape of Yoongi’s neck for support. You are scared if you were being honest. This is so intense.

“I’m here princess, I’m here. Let it happen, you’re safe”, Yoongi talks you through it, holding you safely, “I know it’s a lot but let it happen. I’m right here.”

Jungkook isn’t present anymore. The second your orgasm hit you, he stopped existing. Your orgasm affects him on normal days, but tasting it was too much  for him. He licks and sucks without having any control over it, whimpering because all he wants is to keep tasting you. His eager, sloppy mouth mixed with the ruthless edging of before made you so sensitive that all it really takes is for Jungkook to miss the window of overstimulation and for Yoongi to skilfully ignore it and you are squirting all over Jungkook’s face.

“Yes princess”, Yoongi moans and fucks his cock against your back as he finds his own release from your scent, “holy fuck, you’re perfect. Fuck, my love, holy fuck”, he moans deeply, soaking up your scent like an addict.

Jungkook tugs on the ropes, barely managing to keep his head held high. His eyes are burning from his tears and your never ending wetness, he is pretty sure that he already inhaled it because his upper throat burns. He doesn’t mind, he buries himself deeper, sucking it out of you to the point where you are scared that you long stopped squirting and instead are giving him a completely other taste. One of golden pleasure.

Only once you are truly empty – trust that it took too many seconds of uncontrollable shakes – does Yoongi wrap his hand around Jungkook’s hair to tug him away.

“Ah”, Jungkook lets out, because the position hurts his neck. Not for long because then Yoongi already managed to tug him over your intertwined legs and roll him to his back. Jungkook falls with a sob, arching his back as his arms prevent him from getting comfortable. His cock is hard, but covered in his white seed. It is still dripping and leaking more. His face is wet, his hair is soaked and his chest heaves up and down quickly. He can’t move. He truly can’t move. A Ripper high. That’s what the taste of your pleasure and golden sweetness did to him.

“Good job”, Yoongi praises him, caressing his cheek, “keep breathing Kookie, it’ll all be over soon”, he promises him and then turns his attention to you.

He wraps his arms around you and tilts your head to him gently. Your eyes merely have to meet and then it gets too much for you. You break into tears, growing incredibly small and fragile in his arms.

“I’m here, princess. I’m right here”, he assures you, allowing you to turn in his arms so you can rest against his chest. Your legs are pulled up and your knees are resting against his tummy, your head is against his shoulder, your fingers clutch his shirt weakly. Yoongi kisses your forehead and switches between caressing your back and your hair, “let it all out, this is all natural. I know the session was intense so I need you to let it all out. Good job, my love. I’m so proud of you”, he keeps talking to you as you release your feelings into him, “you did so well, my love. Let it all out. Fuck, you’re making me so proud. That’s my girl. I love you, my princess. That’s it.”

His loving words, his strong hug, his soothing touches. All of it is enough to calm you down, to allow you to return to him safe and sound and to feel so utterly content with yourself that your tears of overwhelming gratefulness stop slowly.

Once they do, you feel tired and sleepy, lifting your head to gaze at him.

Yoongi looks at you with fond eyes, placing his hand on your cheek, “hey there, my sweet princess”, he whispers, caressing your skin, “how are you feeling?”

You giggle and lean into his touch, “thank you, Yoongi”, you get out and giggle again.

“You’re so cute”, his smile grows, “and you did so, so well. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

“You were so mean”, you giggle, “but you were so right, I loved it so much.”

He chuckles, “yeah, I know you would. That’s why I did it”, he says, eyes flitting to Jungkook, “our Kookie’s back. Hey there, my sweet prince.”

You turn in Yoongi’s arms so you can look at Jungkook. He is looking up at you with big, glassy eyes. His face and hair are still ruined from you.

“Thank you”, he croaks and then breaks into happy tears.

You and Yoongi spring into action instantly, picking him up in a tight group hug and whispering the sweetest words of comfort to him until he stops crying. It takes a few moments for him to calm down, but once he does he is sucking on Yoongi’s neck for comfort while you work on opening the ropes around his torso.

Jungkook rolls to his back once he is freed, reaching for you pleadingly. You fall into his hug gladly, resting in a way that would still allow Yoongi access to Jungkook’s lower body.

“I love you”, Jungkook murmurs into your neck, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too”, you tell him, feeling droopy in comfort now that you are held by him. His hug feels just as amazing as Yoongi’s does. Maybe a little wetter because he is still terribly ruined by what you did before.

“This has been my biggest dream for so long and now it was my reality”, Jungkook squeezes your head closer with his hand on the back of it, “I’m waiting for the moment I wake up and realise that it wasn’t real.”

“It was real”, you giggle, “and you were amazing.”

“I’m so happy. So happy that I could cry again”, Jungkook says and laughs, squeezing you tightly, “I want to cry, really. Thank you so much for doing this with me.”

“No thank you. I can’t believe how talented you are. Seriously Kook, you were amazing.”

“You really were”, Yoongi throws in. He just finished opening the ropes around Jungkook’s cock is now caressing the sore spots left behind. They are already healing, but Yoongi still likes to make sure that Jungkook is comfortable and well taken care of. So he runs his thumb over the reddened marks all along his balls and base of his cock, sending tingles of comfort through Jungkook’s body.

The latter fixes the position of his head so he could gaze at Yoongi, hugging you against him as he does.

“Thank you”, he says, “you have no idea how much this meant to me.”

“I do”, Yoongi assures him, “I know what it means to you, sweetheart. And I’m so proud of you for doing so, so well. This was your first time and not once did I have to stop you because you were losing control.”

“I came so far, didn’t I?” Jungkook gets out as his eyes fill with tears.

Yoongi cups his cheek, “you did and you will get even better with practice. I’m so proud of you, my bestest student.”

Jungkook whimpers softly, “I’m your bestest student?” he chokes out.

Yoongi smiles and leans down to kiss his forehead, “and my most loved too. Hear me?”

“Oh god”, Jungkook giggles while he sobs just a little, “I love you too, Yoongi.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi kisses his forehead one more time before claiming his rightful place behind you just so he can hug you and kiss your cheek. Like this, you are sandwiched between Jungkook and Yoongi, enjoying every second of it, “and you are my most loved princess. Hear me?” he whispers, making your heart flutter.

“I love you too”, you say, “and I love you too, Koo”, you add, wiggling happily.

“I love you too”, Jungkook answers you, feeling so happy that he wants to scream.

Yoongi snuggles closer, “the music was a good idea, wasn’t it?”

“It was amazing”, you praise him. 

“It really was”, Jungkook agrees. 

Yoongi smiles happily, purring contently. A few seconds pass where the three of you share comfortable silence, cuddling and hugging and feeling content. The galaxy lamp is soaking the room in colours of red, pink and purple, the music is relaxing you. 

“Boongie?” you break the silence in a whisper.

“Yes, princess?” he also whispers.

“Did you cum in your briefs?”

“Why?”

“They’re wet against my butt.”

Yoongi lets out a little hum, “maybe I did, yeah”, he huffs out air, “don’t blame me, I’m so into you two.”

You and Jungkook break into quiet, happy giggles. Yoongi joins you seconds later. Jungkook reaches over you and places his arm over Yoongi as well, pressing you both closer that way.

“We’ll just take a shower later”, he murmurs to which you and Yoongi agree with a sleepy, happy hum.

[alavestineneas]

and if you are there, why do i feel alone in this room?

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, mentions of sa (!), blood and other parts of body, very non-healthy relationships chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 !this work is part 2 to the i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest! word count: 7,3k

author's notes: hi beautiful people! today, I have finally finished this chapter and am thrilled to say that this fic requires part 3! be aware that this piece of literature is explicit and touches on some very heavy themes, including sa and child abuse. Please be mindful of it! As always, your opinions, suggestions, and critiques are welcome in the comments. Love you, and have a tasty read!

There are a lot of books stored in her memory, locked in the neurocytes safely. They are tucked into the cortex with love and tenderness that YN otherwise taught herself to suppress as a sign of her weaker self. But papers were non-living, so she felt like it was less dangerous for her to show warmth towards them; after all, if the objects can not acknowledge your love, does it really count as real? She read everything, mostly in an attempt to prepare herself for something she did not know the face of; she read to build the shield around herself, in desperate hope to be able to help at least her future self. YN read even now, although her foolish childhood desires were long gone, just to get a glimpse of the girl she was before the monsters escaped the pages.

The book she re-read the most was nothing special, nothing suiting the image she moulded herself into—a giant, relatively old encyclopaedia of animals inhabiting the furthest corners of Known Imperium. The letters inside, although faded a little, were left almost untouched by eyes—maybe it was what drew her in in the first place—to cherish something seen as unneeded. YN learned the small paragraphs almost by heart; she liked the idea of someone taking enough time to observe something as small as a roden to know its habits. She liked the idea of it happening to her one day. As it always is, it did not.

She chose her favourite animal without that much thought. Although even the notion of having something beloved was foolish, YN was made to choose; she and her sisters played the game of forest most often. The game was simple: pretend to be a creature you are not, forgetting the countless rules they had to follow. Pretending they have claws and teeth; pretending they can protect themselves not through intrigues and hidden motives but through open, bold force. Irulan was always a Katanga Lioness; she liked it because of the proximity to their house's symbol. YN did not; the grey pages of her beloved book described them as "observed to also scavenge on carrion of animals that were killed by other predators or died from natural causes''. What king of the animals steals the work of others simply to feed themselves? She did not tell Irulan that, of course—why would she?

YN chose a mountain lion for herself. Sure, she may have made a mistake thinking it was just another type of lion, but the game went too far to change anything, so she stuck with that. She even grew to love it—the drawing of the mountain lion on her character sheet, the way it prowled through the forest in her mind's eye. It had many names and many homes. Adaptive. Captivating.

She does not know why it came into her mind suddenly—maybe it was the dim light of the closed arena. The air circulated here freely, cooling through the complex systems of vents, even though it seemed to be deprived of any life—just a mechanical circle of the same molecules moving around her seated figure and returning to the hidden openings again and again. YN looked straight ahead; the two men were still sparring.

From her bench, they looked like one—two bodies moved so swiftly that one was unable to differentiate where the lines of their limbs ended. YN squinted her eyes; she was alone in the seating area, and still, she dared not move closer. The taller, thinner figure possessed skin so white it looked almost translucent underneath the cold light—YN wondered if she would be able to see the structures in his body through his clothed stomach. He moved well, almost too well for her not to press her lower row of teeth to the top one, hiding the tongue in a cave of pearl bones—she had hoped he was worse with his bare hands. YN had counted four hundred and five seconds before he made a mistake in his steps; it was a lot more than her own results, but for a man, he was good.

Feyd-Rautha had style; she had to give him that. He fought like a serpent would: calculated, precise. His fists knew the most effective targets, and his legs knew how to escape the blows of his opponent. If YN was to guess, he relied on muscle memory less than a usual fighter would, preferring to dwell in the moment instead. It made for a good show, sure, but it was not practical. She smiled to herself; of course, the na-Baron could not know what the real battle was like. How unfortunate for him—how delightful for her. YN still can't believe he let her watch his training every morning—was he really that stupid not to realise her motive? Was he too confident to consider having weaknesses?

Regardless, she saw what she needed to do - for three hours every day, she set unmovingly on the third bench in a small fighting ground, imprinting his every move in her mind. There are so many moves you can use and so many tricks you can do before she learns them all. YN did not care for the cold gaze thrown in her direction when Feyd-Rautha collapsed on the ground, taking a moment to rest before lurching onto his opponent again. She can wait.

Mountain lions are stealthy predators.

-

The days she spent here changed into months, their slow steps morphing into each other until time became a blur, a concept she did not grasp. Feyd-Rautha was a hard one to warm, but before she would mould him into something she wanted, YN needed to heat his DNA to a certain magnitude; otherwise, he would simply break. She would've gladly accepted this turn of fate too, but right now, keeping na-Baron alive is far more convenient for the Bene Gessarit. For her.

A concubine. A slap in the face: it seemed like life was determined to dissolve the small bits of her dignity in its endless pool of secrets. She was not a wife to Harkonnen na-Baron; no, she was to be his whore. If she was not too tired, she would've felt a pang of fear on her rising with oxygen lungs; a concubine's position is even lower here compared to one of a lawful wife's. YN remembers the words of her teacher as she prepared her for the union: Harkonnen concubines are killed after their first night in a position; if one is lucky enough to escape the fate by being with a child, she bears him until it's time for the baby to be born. One of the greatest honours for a Harkonnen is to take the life of his mother as soon as he enters the world.

She was to join na-Baron for breakfast today—a proposal YN waited long to receive, but part of her wishes she never did. It was worded like an invitation; YN knows it was not. Harkonnens rarely spoke when they did not give orders—a creature of habit, she supposed. So, she did what she had to: follow the slave to the chambers designated for the meal. The hem of her dress shone with a colour so foreign to the fort around her; YN needed to make herself stand out. Men are much like children, she learned—the more colourful the toy, the more likely they will want to play with it.

The walls were heavy here. They didn't bend in the shapes she was used to, preferring to stand tall. They didn't have to hide their strength underneath a complicated facade—quite the opposite. They paraded it, wearing it like the honour it is. Staying unremorsefully unbending. Maybe it's the air or a different measure of gravity; maybe it's her habit of soaking up the surroundings and letting them poison her insides, growing rotten in between the folds of her stomach tissue, but her legs are metal, stone-cold, pulling YN deeper and deeper into the floor. She tries so hard to ignore the three creatures in the corner.

They are hairless, much like the man in front of her, and dressed in matching black. YN would've mistaken them for Harkonnen royalty if it were not for the iron collars on their necks and the glowing black eyes that seemed to follow her every move. She would've been happy to have some company and not be forced into solitude with na-Baron if it were not for a still convulsing body on the floor. A body she did not recognise, but it could've easily been her own.

The creatures seemed to enjoy the involuntary moves of the soon-to-be corpse; they closed their eyes in delight and bared the sharp, black-coloured teeth in sheer pleasure as they lurched into the white flesh. They ripped it apart with only their hands, not bothering to use the prepared knives for more than a big incision from head to stomach. The sounds of chewing and gnawing filled the room, echoing off the walls and sending electric impulses down her body. YN was used to the metallic smell and the bright colour of arterial blood, but this was not a simple death. It was a show, and she was the long-awaited watcher.

Feyd-Rautha seemed unbothered by the sight near him. His hands, covered in thick streaks of blood, were deep to his elbows in the body. He dissected the corpse with precision, his eyes focused and his grip steady. He looked calm, even peaceful. Na-Baron was in good humour today. ''I must say, your arrival has graced us with much more than just the dowery; nothing could've made this union more auspicious—such a rare bird you are, daughter of our generous Emperor. A princess, yet treated no better than a common slave.''

Here it was: the thing she was thinking about all the way to this strange, garbage planet in the dress that pokes bleeding holes in her abdomen with each glass she downs. From his lips, it sounds even more bitter; even savages found the way the Emperor sold one of his daughters so easily strange. "Both of our houses have traditions far beyond our understanding," YN shrugs, scaring her thoughts away like annoying flies. Here, in a room so far from the comfort of her home, they moved too fast, bringing nausea to her throat.

She is here to secure the bloodline of House Harkonnen, to ensure the balance needed in the Imperium. YN does not notice how suddenly her gaze darkens or how tightly the hands that rested on the chair are now holding the pleated velvet of her ruby-red gown. Oh, the baby. The tiny creature inside her womb, the future head for the Baron's crown to be placed upon. The yet unconcieved child she could not feel love for. She was given no other choice but to risk its life before even giving it a chance to obtain its gift.

''Then you will find my present to be quite fitting.''

YN watches in silence as na-Baron reaches inside the rib cage of the corpse. He reaps out an organ with one swift motion, almost like plucking a harmful sprout from the garden. The organ is broun and rosewood, a weird mixture of shades that make it harder for her to focus on anything but the thing in his large hand. The gift he meant to give was a human heart.

She feels his walk long before she sees a figure departing from its place at the table; she guesses the end point of his manoeuvres too easily. It's almost funny—a cruel, senseless joke; how obvious the slight tremor in her hands is; how heavy her eyes become at the sight of Harkonnen black. The body positions itself near; if she squints, she can hear the hot breathing somewhere between her shoulder blades. His hand snakes around her neck quickly, positioning the organ right in front of her mouth. YN can detect the smell hitting her nostrils before she closes the receptors in them. She wants to scream, but the notes die in her throat. Who would she scream for? She hears the creatures hiss and whisper—the heart is a good part, from what she can make out. It did not need to be wasted on people like her.

''Will you not accept it?'' Feyd-Rautha's words are mocking, but his dark blue eyes stay virgin to the laughter. They drill small spots on her neck from behind with such force that YN can almost feel the burnt smell of her sweat-covered skin.

She takes a breath. Her own heart shrinks, its vessels beating with intensity twice as much as needed. Still alive, she notes absently. Still breathing. The feeling is natural and easy; the forced calmness in her body tingles the muscles, braiding her nerves into a pattern similar to the netting. Then, she opens her mouth.

"If I shall lick the blood of your hands, Feyd-Rautha, dare to make it your own."

That's it.

Maybe the Emperor was right to spare her none of the Sardaukars and a quarter of her dresses. She did not need more; she was not expected to survive long enough to use half of her clothes. YN chucked under her breath. Dead over diet preferences—how profound.

After a moment, the pale face behind her also twists, allowing the blackened teeth to escape the grip of thin lips. Like this, na-Baron looks less human and more like the evil he was said to be. He throws the heart to the creatures—they catch it greedily—and places a bloodied hand on her shoulder, the droplets of crimson going unnoticed on the brightly coloured cloth. ''Very well, then. Let us eat.''

YN nods. She looks around almost instinctively; nothing could make her eat a thing after the sight she just witnessed, but she refuses the na-Baron once; she is not about to do it again. The food is a lot, but her plate is almost empty: only a small amount of salad is here, sadly staring into the hunger in her eyes and a now featherless creature in an unnatural pose, suggesting its non-poetical death. The bird is small, almost delicate; its wings are pitifully glued to the body. YN does not want to let her mind draw the comparison, and does not allow her brain to admit a direct analogy; she dissects the bird with a dull knife and puts a piece in her dry mouth. The creature tastes good—almost too good to be expected in this brightly lit hall.

Most often deer is the mountain lion’s staple diet. However, they can survive preying on small animals as well.

-

The night covers Giedi Prime rather quickly; it never lingers, politely waiting for its masters to finish their daily affairs; it hits like a coward, from behind, trapping those not careful enough to hide before its arrival. The harsh, toxic waves of lazy winds hit the walls of the halls coldly lighted with a few sphears; they look like deep forest clearings, forming a system of endless options, ultimately leading to one, inevitable, end. His work chambers aren't big; he does not visit them often for them to be. The solitary metal desk before him is filled with letters, drafts of laws, and official documents, all waiting for his approval. It exhausts Feyd-Rautha to no end, the sheer stupidity of most of the advisers here; almost half of the documents were riddled with errors and inconsistencies. The forever present in his head dull migraine grows stronger when he opens the shortest letter; he almost busts his skull open when the pain heavies.

He ponders too much—the type of thoughts you can feel running on your tongue but never escaping. He is not used to being in the mist; all of his life is so painfully contrasted that no doubt of its nature can survive the sharp edge of his mind. There are things he can escape—forget, even—but some linger in his ribcage too long for them to vanish. Soon, they grow into his lungs with small, unbreakable threads, becoming him. He used to try to get them away from his heart, as if it held some value. Now, he is smarter, older, and more indifferent, he lets them pierce yet another piece of human flesh with no sorrow.

Of course, he remembered her face. The same face that haunted his sleep ever since she dared to appear before his eyes. Feyd-Rautha, naturally, found her little frolic that day. He spent an entire evening studying her work, analysing every move she could've made with her blade to achieve such outcomes. Sure, some things he would've done differently, but the sheer brutality of an animal he would not have guessed the girl possessed charmed him. Feyd-Rautha was a proud man, but he, too, held a love for beautiful things. For that, he hadn't told the Baron of the sight he discovered in the reading room. For that, he is now willing to pretend to believe her eyes when the fear fleshes in them.

Feyd-Rautha curses; she sickens. Like a bone stuck somewhere down his throat, not letting him live without a pang of mocking. She lurks, and whispers—Feyd-Rautha wants to smash her pretty head against the wall just to reveal the secrets she hides from him so he can finally understand the hold she retains. He is no stranger to the desire to own, or devour, but the fear in the back wall of his stomach is an alien in his body. He tries to hide it—to paint over it with anger or violence—but it remains a constant presence, gnawing at him from within. It's no use; the woman is a shark, designed to sense the fright. Maybe that's what brought him in in the first place—the steel eyes so similar to his own in a narrow hall all those years before. Maybe he was so used to the danger that he craved it subconsciously, looking for it to make him feel like himself again. A reoccurring childhood nightmare he can't escape; he doesn't want to escape.

Feyd-Rautha finds the chair to put his weight on and waits until the tingling, spinning sensation spreads from his temples down his neck, finding its way into his bloodstream and passing his organs one by one, until none are left uncorrupted. Of course, he expects it. The woman slipped into his brain and now chews her way into it like a parasite downs the rotten body. He knows he should be terrified, but instead, he feels a strange sense of relief. Feyd-Rautha can hear the whispers of his own mind fighting to remain the only owners of the secrets and desires buried within. He feels his eyelids heavy; a second later, the whites of his eyes are staring at the ceiling, the blue eye lenses dissolving in light.

Water. The first thing he feels is ice-cold water dripping onto his face, filling his lungs, and sending a shock through his arms. This body does not feel like his; it's too small, too narrow. His eyes are trying to adjust as fast as they can, jumping from one blurred spot to another until finally catching a glimpse of the surroundings. His brain does not have time to process the picture; his nose is filled with fluid again, and his open mouth is gasping for air but only taking in more liquid. He tries waving his hands around, but the stronger grip is firm on his nape, pulling him further down into the depths. The hand yanked him out just as he was about to fall into darkness again, the sound of water changing to loud screeching.

''How dare you hit me, devil child? Let the water wash away your dirt. Repent; beg for forgiveness for all of your rotten nature.''

The voice is unknown to him; it is harsh and filled with fury. The woman's face is twisted in anger; splashes of water on it match his. He can't tell if they are from his antics or tears. The woman's grip tightens, her nails digging into his skin. The black clothes on her figure make her status known - a Bene Gessarit witch. Feyd-Rautha tries to lurch forward and hit her back, but her strength is overwhelming. He feels panic coursing through his veins instead of oxygen—a sensation he did not think he could experience anymore. He wants to bark a response to show her that he is not afraid, but his voice catches in his throat.

Feyd-Rautha has no time to wonder what the woman wants; she brings his face to the bathtub again, and he opens his mouth involuntarily, frantically begging not to do it anymore. He says everything she wants to hear; he cries out and promises to wash his sins away. The voice does not sound like his at all. He is desperate to end this nightmare now, but some force holds him here. The woman is not satisfied; her ears are deaf to his pleas.

His face ends up on the water surface a moment later, his nose hitting the wall of the bathtub as the woman holds him down. He feels his body go limp with utter horror; this time, the shouting woman won't stop. Her voice grows quieter, replaced by the sound of small waves hitting the brim and spilling; from right to left, the water turns red, and his tongue tastes the iron he knows from sliding blades into his mouth.

''Echidna, what the fuck are you doing? Let her go; she is going to choke!''

''Get that spawn to me, for I will not let her ruin my life anymore! I must finish what I have started!''

Feyd-Rautha's head is filled with oxygen once again; his lungs take a desperate breath in, sending too much air to his blood system. He falls on his back, the world spinning. He does not care for the weeping woman in black or the chaos unfolding around him. His only thought is that everything is finally done and that the white floors are a magnificent place for drops of liquid to fall from his normally bald head's waterfall of hair.

He wakes up suddenly, the sensation long gone. His steps are heavy again; the body he inhibits no longer feels like a cage. The voices have left him for now, and the only thing on his forehead left is small drops of sweat and a pathetic, frightened, beating heart. The cold breeze from the darkened sands surrounding the city wishes to prove otherwise—it heavies and plants its spikes into his reddened cheeks. The horizon gleams at him, almost taunting; not a single star is to be seen under the imposing clouds. He will kill her; maybe he will even enjoy it. Feyd-Rautha can handle a lot, but not the shame of being seen. Not the guilt of being caught wanting.

There are only three ways to hunt a mountain lion: tracking, waiting in ambush, and with dogs.

-

The gliding motions of heavy fabrics across the wooden floors created a strange pattern of a song now centuries old. Here, in a room so long that the wind travelled through the hollows, her careful steps seemed to almost fall silent. Nothing was there for the preying eyes to see. YN closes her eyes; with that, even for a moment, the world stays still. She knows where the hollow staircase will lead her; she feels it in her stomach with every step she takes. YN knows nothing about the future, but the past lives deep in her memories, haunting her every move. She knows she shouldn't have done it. Travelling through one's mind is a sin she can't escape; she will pay the price for it in her blood, but the Bene Gesarit did not send her here to survive, so it's of no use to be afraid now. It makes no difference for the dead if you weep at their grave or not.

The burning sphere of light in the hall stops spinning; the doors open without any noise, although if the pounding eardrums had not stunned her hearing, she could've noticed the faint thuds. YN waits; there are no flashes of her happiest memories or the faces of her loved ones in her drained mind. No, in what seems to be her last moments, she thinks of what she could've been if the world had not given her a sword to turn into.

Feyd-Rautha appears in the hall; his steps aren't rushed, and his expression is stone-cold. She eyes him shamelessly: nothing. She sees nothing; she senses it deep in her crying bones. He drags her by the hair like a mother would with her misbehaving child; roughly, he pulls her towards the exit, his grip tightening with each step until the door behind them closes and her knees meet the cold ground with a nasty thud. The bruises will stain them soon, not that it matters now.

''You should've known better than to cross me,'' he hisses, his voice gruff. It's cold, chilling—the way his lips part to reveal a sinister smile. ''Now, you can think yourself vanished, little witch.''

YN does not answer—what fool would beg the deaf? The blade against her chin is sharp; she knows how attentive he is when it comes to inflicting pain. It pokes right into the Omehyoid muscle, a dull pain shooting through her body. If she has got to die, it may as well be from his skilled arms. How beautiful he is in the twisted pleasure he finds in her suffering. Unearthly, almost too perfect to be made of simple flesh and bone. Something was unnerving, unforgettable in the net of veins under his pearly skin; it was as if he were a work of art, meticulously crafted to bring physical pain and optical pleasure in equal measure. A silver glint under the defined cheekbones, a redness of lips filled with blood vessels. For a second, YN wonders what it would be like to bite into it, like an apple that lay too long under the golden sun; would the blood slip as generously as the sweet nectar? Handsome as poison, as a black sun on his forsaken planet, as death.

''Go on. Kill me, then; let me escape you once and for all.''

Under the deep sea of his eyes, something moved; his eyes dipped into her, part by part. Like the slow, deliberate dance of a predator stalking its prey, his gaze lingered on her, calculating and intense. YN lowered her head to push the knife a little deeper into the flesh. A strange thought lingered in her brain; she found herself on her knees in front of him, almost willingly. She has worshipped God all her life; who, if not her, can recognise his creation? The Devil. Lucifer. Satan. The man with horns so big they once touched the skies; a corrupt angel, fallen from grace so long ago he couldn't remember way back if he tried. They have warned her about him, but is it her fault that God has disowned her earlier than she could? Did it really matter to her, before whom to kneel, as long as she felt a sense of power and control in her submission?

All that mattered now was that he wanted to hurt her. He wanted her.

She sees the recognition flicker on his face. Caught. The blade slides quickly across her exposed neck, the blood sprouting out in a weak, painfully quick stream. Feyd-Rautha kissed her, biting her bottom lip till the stream of boldly coloured blood trickled down his chin. He did so like an animal would, baring his teeth and dragging them across the pulsating vein on her neck. YN's laughing cry echoes in the empty room; she is forced to admit that he felt good.

Never approach a mountain lion; most mountain lions prefer to avoid confrontations, so never approach them and make them feel cornered.

-

The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. The beautiful substance of her hair caught the light from the sun like a mirage in the desert, reflecting in his eyes with painful hits. The jewels, too, have found their way onto her clothes, but they were hidden beneath the layers of fabric. They shined brightly, impertinently, framing her figure in a glow that seemed to come from within.

To his surprise, the skills woman possessed spread out to politics as well, with her witch training proving useful in court. Feyd-Rautha did not miss how his advisors grew more uneasy when she entered the room, her careful eyes scanning their faces for even a hint of betrayal or deceit. Like a proud discoverer, he ached to share his new-found wonder with the blind audience, but something in him protested in a mare thought of showing the precious jewel of his eye to the cluster of unworthy. So, Feyd-Rautha did the only thing he knew how— all of his secret observations were done from afar, masterfully hidden behind the facade of casual indifference.

As he drags yet another blade across the surface of the whetstone, he thinks about her delicate hands on his neck, her ringed fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. It doesn't matter; YN is nothing of the sort. A concubine, a possession, a tool for pleasure and procreation—the Harkonnen way was simple.

''Are you done eye-fucking me now, or do you need more time with your blade?'' she sneers, her voice mocking. Only she could get away with such bold defiance in his presence, but she does not seem to care for the unusualness of it.

YN motions for him to come closer, her eyes studying the way his legs move. Feyd-Rautha has no control over them; the steps make themselves. She plays the game very well; the chase fuels something primal within him. Thirst. Hunger. It was the Harkonnen training talking to him—the wild, ancient sensation taking over his insides and imprisoning his mind in a cage of helpless desire. It spread its tentacles down to his fingertips, nesting in his abdomen. He positions himself in front of her, his body betraying him as he leans in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Feyd-Rautha's hands repeat the ritual almost instinctively, rolling the hem of her deep purple dress up to her waist.

''Stop for a second,'' she whispers against his ear, her breath warm and inviting. ''Can I give you a piece of advice?''

Feyd-Rautha can feel the anger creeping into his body; he does not like to be refused. ''No,'' he grumbles, turning her around forcefully. "I don't need your advice," he snaps, his grip tightening on her arm.

YN does not seem to care for it. ''Don't do it. It will only lead to trouble.''

''What?'' He stops, his eyes narrowing as he absorbs the woman's words. The doubts that had lingered in the back of his mind suddenly grew louder, echoing through his mind. He releases her arm, his expression stoic. ''You are insane, woman. What are you talking about?''

''You know what I mean.''

The unease boils in his stomach. How could she know? He was careful not to slip anything; she wasn't able to cast her spells anymore either. But her knowing gaze tells him otherwise. ''You can not know the future,'' he pronounces.

''I don't need to know the future to see the truth, Feyd-Rautha. Your judgement is clouded by rage, and your mind is not as sharp as it usually is. You are not as invincible as you think you are.''

She is bluffing, he thinks. He hopes she is. Feyd-Rautha almost wished there was no cloth covering her face, nothing to hide her expressions as she lay beneath him. He catches her flamed eyes and the way they circle his face in one swift motion before settling on the ceiling above. It unnerves him, but he refuses to show it. She is no master here; she is simply a servant. That is not what power looks like, if he ever recognised one, and Feyd-Rautha knew power.

''Get out, now.''

Nothing was portrayed on her face as she curtseyed; nothing was there when she turned and walked to her rooms, leaving nothing but the ghost of the human body's warmth.

Mountain lions are more at home in brushy areas than in open prairies.

-

And then, he disappeared. Like the sound of the morning birds falling silent in the cacophony of voices of the city on her home planet, there was no trace of na-Baron in the entire Harkonnen fortress. YN thought she was slowly but surely going mad; no one but her noticed the usual place by the window empty, and no one but her seemed to care enough to know where he went. She caught strange looks from a few, and frankly, she thought they were right. She looked like a mad woman, her hair quickly plated and her dress hurriedly laced, her eyes darting around the room in search of any sign of Feyd-Rautha's massive figure. Noon was dragged into the evening, and then night, for three, long days until she heard the long-awaited news: na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had tried to usurp his uncle and had failed.

She has told him so. A fucking brainless ram, with stubbornness bigger than his cock—why did he think he could outsmart the Baron? He will pay for his dumbness with his blood, perhaps even his limb—the thought brought nausea to YN's throat. She was lucky the Baron did not consider her important enough to be knowledgeable of such schemes; she lowered her head in the desert, hiding from the sand storms of Harkonnen politics; she waited for two long weeks until the announcement was made; Feyd-Rautha was forgiven. The celebration in honour of this news is to be today; she is to attend it. Not like his concubine, YN supposed, but more like the princess she still was.

Now, she took her time. YN chose a gown she wanted long enough to make even a tireless slave yawn, savouring each moment before their meeting. She was a victor now, in their small game of cat and mouse. He was a cat, but the mouse could still outwit him with grace and style. YN smiled at the wondering attendants; she looked good, and she was going to meet him.

The walk from her chambers to the Grand Hall wasn't too long; she would've walked a thousand more stairs if it was needed. The doors opened without a sound, revealing nothing but a mere celebration of yet another year under the reign of Harkonnens. The lines of slaves changed one another, the uneven circles of people dancing appearing and fleeing to the cheerful tone of strings. She was set somewhere between two Harkonnen lords she had no chance of knowing; she felt a sense of unease creeping up her spine as she tried to maintain a polite smile. Their gazes didn't look right; something sinister lurked inside them—hiding a secret she had no chance of knowing.

One of them turned to her, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "How are you finding the evening, lady YN? Or, what should I call you?,'' he mastered a fake confusion. ''Perhaps, darling? Concubine has a cheap wing to it; quite unworthy of a face so lovely as yours, don't you think?"

Dirt. The thing that crawled under her skin at his words was like dirt, making her feel unclean and exposed. She forced a laugh, trying to brush off his comments, the crown of her hair moving with muscles underneath her skin. "I am a princess, my Lord. Address me as such."

It would be enough every other noon, but today. The man's face twists, as if he just remembered something; he turns, the wine in his goblet splashing on the tablecloth. ''I think na-Baron wouldn't be too angry if I stole a princess for the night," he sneered, his eyes darkening with malice.

''Does it matter to you either way?''

YN watches as the smirk, so similar to Feyd-Rautha's, appears on the men's lips, although it doesn't feel the same. She fights back disgust as the man nods, biting into a hefty chunk of prey. His eyes, once focused on her, drifted away. YN chose to follow them; the string of fat streaming down the man's mouth onto the silver tablecloth made her nauseous. She looked from one unfamiliar face to another, until the cold feeling in her abdomen crept its way onto her chest.

There he was. His figure is unusually crouching as he sits on the podium reserved for members of the dynasty. The dark blue eyes are red now; the thin blood vessels in them are torn and emptied. His body seemed to suck the light out of the hall inside, casting a shadow over the room. There are no scars on his smooth face, but the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes spoke of a suffering that went beyond physical wounds. YN almost wished she saw him dead; whatever this was, it was surely much worse. He raised his eyes slowly to meet hers; something flickered in them before turning back to their empty state. Feyd-Rautha parts his dry lips to say something to her—she can't understand a word he draws with his breath.

From the place nearby, the Baron's voice booms, his low, almost whisper-like vowels mending into one. His face, covered with layers of skin and dead cells, twists into what was meant to be a welcoming smile—the corners of his paper-thin lips dance, lowering themselves only to jump higher, and his eyes travel from one corner to another, unable to be still even for a moment. He speaks of things YN knows nothing about court intrigue, power struggles, and alliances that shape the fate of their world, heavy with hidden meanings and unspoken threats. She does not listen until he gestures towards her, a scent of spice and decomposing flesh lingering.

''Sergeant Voss has served me well, and his loyalty at the right time is not to be forgotten. Here, I bestow upon him the highest honour of all; what was once mine, is now his. Do not let go of her if she screams, Sergeant; the girl is a fine one.''

No. YN almost does not recognise the hand as her own as the man drags her to the bed that appeared out of nowhere, freezing with horror as the people around her continue to watch in silence, their eyes devoid of any emotion or empathy. The tradition, she notes, is the one she learned so much about bedding in front of the entire court as a symbol of unity. She choked on her own tears as the man smiled at her pleas for help; they seemed to make him even more pleased.

YN looks, frantically, to the place she saw Feyd-Rautha sitting just a moment before. He would help; surely, he would not let them do it to her—his servant, his concubine, his. But the seat is empty. The scream echoing through the hall does not register as hers right away; he has sold her. For his own freedom, for a chance to be free from the consequences of his own stupid actions. Surely, the Harkonnens could not get rid of her openly—it would mean war—but she was not immune to the man who now owned her. His hands travelled her body with such audacity that YN wanted to cut them off—to cut her chest just so she could not feel the fingers digging into her skin. A sole reminder she was a woman first and a human second.

Mountain lions are solitary hunters.

The man undressed himself quickly; all of the soldiers were trained to do so. She should run; she should fight back, but the pair of unmoving hands pinning her wrists down was a stark reminder of her helplessness. The man lowers himself closer, his hot breath against her neck making her shudder in fear. She can feel him against her skirts; she can feel the weight of his body pressing down on her. The adrenaline is pumping through her veins; she will survive. Whatever it fucking takes, even if her body is bruised and broken, she will survive.

They prefer to ambush their prey from behind by swiftly and cleanly breaking the neck.

She bites—her teeth launch towards his cheek, feeling the warm flesh give way beneath her. She sinks them deeper, making holes big enough to draw blood. It's hot, and sickening on her tongue, but she does not have time for these thoughts; her next blow is in his stomach, with his knee jammed into his gut. She can feel his body convulse in pain, giving her a chance to throw him on the bed, his broad back facing her.

If they haven’t broken the neck, they will suffocate the animal.

There is nothing around that could serve as a knife; her captors made sure of that, and the sheets are too thin to wrap around his neck. She looks around the room, desperate for something to use, but the space around her is empty. YN curses as the man regains his composure and begins to struggle against her hold. Her elbow meets his nose with a sickening crunch, causing blood to spurt out. She takes a breath in; her hand wraps around his neck, forming a tight hold as she goes into the headlock. She chokes him, so desperately trying to live. And the man trashes against her grip, his white face turning a deep shade of purple before finally going limp in her arms.

Shame.

A thing that followed her after every life she took is now absent. Maybe the Giedi Prime's cruelty did have its effect on her; YN feels nothing but a sense of emptiness as she stands over the lifeless body.

''Do you have any more men to gift me to, Baron Vladimir? The night is still young.''

Her voice has changed. It holds a certain hiss now, a rasp that wasn't present before; it has matured and bloomed into half an octave deeper tone. It bites through the noise easily, cutting sharply.

The Baron laughs. His eyes gleam with amusement as he gestures towards the door. "Plenty more where that came from, my dear, but it's enough for today. Here,'' he throws something in her, a smirk ghosting on his lips. ''You've earned it.''

YN catches it and inspects the object in her hand. A small, golden broche catches the light, glinting in the dimly lit room. A head of the Bighorn ram stares back at her, the symbol of House Harkonnen. The taste of victory mingled with the metallic tang, leaving a bittersweet sensation in her mouth. Joy courses her veins—she isn't afraid. Finally, she is not afraid. Finally, she can look at her blood-stained hands without humiliation. Is it her fault she was born a better knife than a person?

Bighorn sheep are not a primary food source in most areas. However, when a lion does kill a sheep, they typically will continue to do so over and over again, until the herd is depleted.

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[strawbeerossi]

I have a really sweet fic request so like imagine season 3/4 Reid and reader having sex in missionary and Spencer puts his hand on the headboard and reader turns her head around and kisses his old track marks🥺 and he’s just taken aback by how caring the little gesture is

I LOVE THIS 🥺🩷

Scars

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: The ask explains it all, really.

Content Warning: Smut but not explicit, kissing, mentions of past drug use, teary eyed Spencer, lots of love, just fluffy as can be.

Word Count: 0.8K

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“I love you.” Y/N’s words were airy, her fingers tangling in her boyfriend’s hair as they were connecting their lips in a tender, sweet kiss while Spencer was slowly rocking his hips against his girlfriend’s. 

After a particularly hard day, they were just supposed to be laying together and engulfing one another in love. 

One thing led to another though, those soft kisses and the way they held one another taking an amazing turn as their bodies were tangling together.

Here they were, making passionate love while holding tightly to one another, appreciating one another’s warmth and touch and basking in the love that covered them like a sheet.

“I love you so much.” His words were soft, voice having a rasp to it from arousal. His eyes were trained on her face, watching as his girlfriend’s face was twisting in pleasure from each thrust, opting to pick up his speed. 

It was nothing too crazy to take them out of this intimate bubble but just enough to make that pretty face contort more, her mouth agape as moans and soft breaths were falling from her lips. 

It wasn’t long until Spencer had to bring his hand up to grip the headboard, picking up his pace yet again as he was letting out soft moans and groans of his own.

“Close,” He breathed, watching as Y/N’s head was tilting to the side, nodding along with his words to communicate that she wasn’t far behind. 

“Fuck, almost there.” She breathed, eyes slowly fluttering open, her gaze on his arms. The sight of the old track-marks that were barely visible. Using the position that was available to her and not wanting to lean up to meet his lips, she was slowly pressing a kiss against his arm, the scars of his past usage of drugs.

He was accustomed to her lips smearing over any ounce of skin that she could reach when they were in the middle of the act. It was mostly his lips, jaw, and neck that got that attention though. 

The minute that she was kissing the part of his arm he never wanted to show out of fear though, his hips were coming to a complete stop. He was stunned, unsure of how to react.

“Spencer.” Y/N whined, head tilting upwards. As she was about to complain, her annoyance was fading as her eyes softened. He was tearing up, overwhelmed at the simple action.

“Baby,” She began, her soft fingers brushing through his hair. “Are you okay? Do you need to stop? Honey, you know that you just have to tell-”

“It’s.. It’s not that, I’m sorry.” He breathed, bringing the hand that was previously gripping the headboard to his eyes to wipe them, even though a few tears had already dropped onto his girlfriend’s flushed skin.

“I just.. I wasn’t expecting that.” He admitted, the two staring at one another as there was a content silence. They’d only been together for a few months, the woman not knowing his story yet, all the scars he had gone untalked about because he was, in a way, ashamed of them.

“What?” Her voice was soft, a thin veil of concern on her face. “I just.. I don’t think most people would see.. Those,” He said while holding his arm out to emphasize. “And would not think less of me immediately.”

He couldn’t say that he blamed people for the initial reaction. 

“Spencer, you know that your past means nothing to me, right?” They’d talked briefly of his addiction but it wasn’t too much of a conversation, mostly because of the fact that he was explaining how he was late to their third date because of one of his meetings.

“I love you, like, so much.” Her words were soft as a smile was on her face, her hands slowly running down his shoulders. “Your scars and marks on your body tell a story.”

This was a time to get philosophical, Spencer being buried inside her warmth while they held one another.

“And those stories shape you. You’ve overcome so much and you deserve love and appreciation. No matter what you’ve done. Drugs, alcohol, hell, I think I would still love you if I found out that you killed someone.” 

There was a soft laugh leaving Spencer’s lips, Y/N falling right behind as the two giggled together for a moment. “But I’m serious. You are still a good man, baby. No past addiction could ever change that.”

The two shared a tender kiss, his forehead resting against hers.

“Now can we finish having sex? You are killing me here by making me wait.” Her words were soft, teasing him as she pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. 

“Since you asked so nicely, I guess so.”