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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

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Jungkook

TERRITORIAL. | Softcore

"Don't worry- I'll take it real slow with you so you know I mean it."

Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes

+ Additional Tags/Warnings: none, some flirting?

Length: who's counting anyways

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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"Damn, who's pissed in your breakfast this morning?" Jimin laughs, trying to joke- but it's clear that Jungkook is genuinely angry with his packmate, heated glare sent his way.

"I told you, you were being too mean yesterday!" Hoseok scolds, smacking the younger wolf on the back of his head. "Now you ruined jungkookie's fun last night." He mumbles, looking at the youngest apologetically-

Though the wolf sits up almost proudly, a sly smile growing on his lips as he chews his food.

"Looks like he still got his dick wet." Jimin laughs, making Jungkook growl.

"I wasn't out to get my dick wet you dog!" He argues, before crossing his arms. "Was just.. driving around." He shrugs.

"You." Taehyung raises a brown before he sits down at the table as well. "Just driving around." He continues, making the youngest roll his eyes.

"You act like I'm always up to something." He accuses, before his phone buzzes on the table, quickly snatched away by Jimin who grins brightly while fighting against Jungkook's reaching hands.

"Movie sounds great, do you have one in mind?" He reads the message out loud. "Oooh, Jungkookie has an actual date?!" He exclaims, before the youngest wolf can snatch his phone back.

"Shut up." He growls, before he gets up to put on his jacket and boots, turning around once more. "Don't fuck this up for me. Next time you see us, just shut your mouth." He requests awfully.. nervously almost, before he leaves, door closing behind him.

"You think he's found someone he likes?" Taehyung wonders, pulling Jungkook's leftovers toward him.

"Looks like it." Hoseok shrugs.

"Huh." Jimin huffs, leaning bag with an almost proud smile. "Would you look at that."

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Your apartment is cozy, small but very inviting, and most of all- it smells like you and you only, something that Jungkook enjoys a lot.

"Do you want me to dry your jacket?" You wonder, looking at him carefully taking off his wet jacket, since it's been pouring outside. Only now do you notice that, once he pulls off his beanie, it's the first time you see him like that.

Damn. Those tattoos really paint a full sleeve and some.

Not to mention the fact that his black sleeveless top hugs his body so tightly that it leaves almost nothing to the imagination- and in a way, that makes you a bit self-conscious. He seems like someone who works out a lot and often- would he think of you as less attractive once he notices you hide no defined physique underneath your clothes, but small rolls and chubby thighs?

Maybe. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Interestingly enough, it seems like Jungkook notices your change in mood- posture changing to appear less threatening to you, tail waving a little behind him to add to the appearance. It helps- if just a little.

"I mean- sure? If it's not a bother.." He answers your question, making you nod before you take the heavy jacket from him, glad to have something to distract yourself with.

"You can.. sit down? Or, I don't know- raid my fridge." You joke a bit stiff, before you flee the scene, hanging his jacket up in your little laundry room where your dryer has already warmed up the air, everything smelling of your favorite fabric softener. You actually sometimes take a nap in here, especially during winter- you're not sure why, but the smells and warmth offers you the bestest naps, especially when you sleep on your thick feather filled quilt.

It's an odd habit. Will he think you're weird if he finds out about that?

Once you return to your living room and kitchen space, you find Jungkook already looking inside the fridge, scanning the different snacks and drinks in there, visibly curious as his tail stands high. You can't help it, in that moment-

sneakily tugging just a little on the very tip, causing him to snap around, startled.

"Sorry!" You apologize immediately, shrinking back a little. "I- that was rude-" You start, when he wags his tail so much it smacks against the open fridge door, his laughter ringing through the small space of the apartment.

"No worries, was just caught off guard-" He reassures with a grin. "-you're really quiet. And those ears work really well!" He jokes, pointing to his pierced ear.

"Should I be louder then?" You wonder, reaching past him for a bottle of water. "So you can hear me?" You ask, and he looks at you for a second, before he chuckles, throwing his head back.

"You're so cute!" He barks out, before he closes your fridge, following you back towards your couch. And there, you sit as if you're being scolded almost- hugging your legs in the very corner, too shy to really be comfortable around him, and of course- he notices.

"What's making you uncomfortable right now?" He wonders, zapping through the recommended shows on your TV.

"Huh?" You ask, looking at him. "Nothing. I'm fine!" You laugh, though even that sounds more like you're just trying to pacify him, and it reminds him of one of his packmates' mates, back when she first met the whole group.

You're acting very similar. Intimidated, unsure where your place is. Trying not to step out of line.

"Hm, you're not." He chuckles, sitting back a little more relaxed. "Is it the tattoos? They're off-putting to some, my mom doesn't like them either." He chuckles, trying to ease the tension- something he craves out of pure instinct, because, considering his interest in you, he can't have his possible future mate be this uneasy around him.

He's supposed to be your person of safety and protection, someone you can and want to rely on- not someone you're scared of, in any way.

"No- not really." You shake your head, looking at them from the distance, noticing the colors and intricate details in some parts. "Just.. I don't know." You mumble.

"Is it the muscle?" He wonders, head tilting to the side a bit, and when you look away and adjust your position a little, he clicks his tongue. "Ah, please don't worry. I know how to control my strength!" He jokes playfully, but you shake your head. "No?"

"It's not.. that, at least not really?" You wonder, deciding that you better rip off the bandaid right now so it'll hurt less later. "You're just.. you look really fit, and I'm not. I'm lazy." You explain, without any demeaning tone thrown at yourself. "I don't really do any.. working out." You say, and he shrugs.

"Fine by me. It's your body, not mine." He offers, and you're unsure what to think about that statement.

Growing up, you learned from both your family and past friendships and relationships even, that every sentence uttered by mankind has some sort of second meaning. It created some sort of imposter syndrome for you in a way, as if every praise and compliment had some sort of background to it. Like you didn't deserve it- and people were simply too nice to tell you that blunt and openly.

So maybe it's not him saying that it's your choice and he doesn't mind it- but him saying that he's simply aware of the fact that he can't force you to do anything, but that he's glad he's not in your place. It's a far reach, and you know this- but the petty demon inside your head just won't shut up, ever.

Luckily however, the wolf next to you on the couch seems to have telepathic powers or something- or maybe he can smell your feelings? Because he immediately adds something to his words to soften up his statement. "The most important thing for me is that you're healthy and happy. I don't need anything else, really." He smiles encouragingly, and you shrug, before nodding.

"I guess." You just mumble, letting the awkward silence wash over you both while Jungkook chooses a movie, logging into his own account on your streaming service- something you notice. "You can just buy it-" You say, but he chuckles.

"Nop. Let me do that- I'd feel bad otherwise." He explains, buying the movie with his own money. So his last name is Jeon? You really didn't mean to look at it, but it's hard not to. It's when the movie starts that he leans a bit more onto your little sofa, opening his arms. "Can we cuddle?" He wonders, and you look at him a bit like a deer in the headlights. "I promise my friend down there will behave. I just wanna have you close- is that okay?" He wonders, and you shrug, unsure how to approach it.

Considering how long you've been living by yourself, you feel like you forgot how to properly.. cuddle at all. And it's like you just realize that right now- when was the last time you hugged someone? Held someone's hand? Or just sat close to someone else?

"You don't have to. I just.. wanna make you feel more at ease." He softly says, pausing the movie on the TV. "If you're not ready to be this close to me yet that's fine, and understandable. We can try another time-" He starts, but you shake your head.

"I just.. I've been living alone for a while now." You say, opening up at least a little bit. "I'm.. I don't know, it feels awkward now." You admit, and he nods, soaking up the info you give him.

"Alright, I can work with that." He smiles. "We can take it slow and easy, no issues." He shrugs, setting down his hands again.

And that's where they stay, as you both simply watch the movie-

Jungkook quietly leaving after you fall asleep, but not before putting a blanket from the couch over your body.

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"I can't promise you they won't be weird-" Jungkook chuckles through the speaker in your helmet- a new one now, that you suspect he might've bought just for you, because it's a lot smaller and fits way better than the other one you've been given before. "-but I'll keep them in check." he reassures you.

"Are you like, the leader?" You wonder, unsure, and he chuckles again, stopping at a red light.

"No, I'll tell you who's who when we're there- I'm just a regular member, nothing more nothing less." He shrugs, one of his hands leaving the handle of his bike to rest on your thigh next to his leg, running up and down absentmindedly. "Is that okay? Or too much?" He asks, looking back for a second, though you can't see his face with the helmet covering his head entirely.

"That's fine." You say, genuinely meaning it- and you can't see it, but he's grinning brightly at this small step forwards, tail wagging. He's noticed you leaning against his back a lot more this time, slowly seeming to grow more comfortable on his bike, even so much so that you've begun to instinctively sit in the proper way to make driving easy for him.

And he also really enjoys you clinging onto him not in fear but comfort- but that's besides the main point.

The moment you arrive, everyone already standing around with their own bikes or by themselves, it's very clear that Jungkook's whole.. adventures with you has made the round. People are whistling and laughing, but it's also clear that it's just to tease him, and not in bad nature. You can even hear someone cooing when Jungkook reaches out to help you take your helmet off, bike standing secure on the kickstand, his own helmet already having been taken off. "Don't mind them. I'm the youngest of the pack." He admits, and you nod, smiling.

"You'll handle it, I'm sure." You agree, and he grins proudly, before he helps you get off the bike.

"Oh look at them, this is so cute!" Someone laughs, commenting probably on the fact that Jungkook had taken your hand in his to maybe offer you some extra security- something you appreciate.

"Please stop, you're scaring her off." He whines, as someone walks up beside you.

"Jungkook's right. Leave him be." A tall guy says, before he looks at you kindly. "I'm namjoon- not sure if he's told you already, but I'm the pack leader here " he offers, and you nod in greeting, smiling back. "I hope he treats you well- if not I'm gonna have to have a word with him." He jokingly threatens, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

"I'm treating her very well, thanks for asking." He snaps back, and you can't help but giggle a little at the banter they're both participating in.

Up close and personal like this, the whole pack of wolves doesn't actually feel all that threatening.

They're clearly playing around with him, teasing whenever he does anything considered affectionate towards you, and it's almost cute to see him glare at his friends for it. What makes you even happier is the fact that he doesn't mind being seen- he still makes sure you're always comfortable, checks in if you want to leave or if you're cold or if you're tired.

Right now, he's got you sat on his thigh, as he's sitting on the sidewalk- when there seems to be some tension rising, multiple wolves now moving to stand almost protectively in front of the rest. "Hey- stay here for a second yeah? I'll just check what's up." He says, helping you stand near his bike, before he leaves to do just what he said.

The way his tail suddenly rises, standing straight back, shows you that he's in an aggressive-defensive stance.

Somethings going on.

But it's resolved with simple glares from the pack, as Jungkook returns later to offer you your helmet. "Let's get you home, okay?" He says, and you nod, letting him help you with the helmet itself. "Don't worry, by the way. There's just some tension- and I'd like to.. not have you in the crossfire." He chuckles.

That's a nice thing to do, actually. He seems very much interested in your well-being, and that's new to you. But it's nice. Feeling like you're special.

Back at your home, he's helping you off his bike, taking the helmet from you- and you can't help yourself, as you unhook his own helmet with a click, before you slip it off his head, and lean in to kiss him.

It's a quick one, his helmet pushed into his hands as you run off into your home-

One look back making you laugh, as you see him frozen it appears like, tail wildly wagging behind him.

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He's awfully cocky next time he visits you, instantly leaning down as you open the door to let him in. "What? Do I only get goodbye-kisses?" He complains, and you giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

And he growls at that, though his wagging tail reassures you there's no anger behind it.

"You have to earn it." You say, and he glares at you.

"Isn't my giant crush on you enough?" He wonders, and you laugh.

"Maybe?" You shrug, putting on your jacket. "Well.. I'll think about it after the date." You tease and he grins.

"Well in that case, I'll be getting a ton of kisses after tonight." He beams at you, proudly so.

And you're sure of it.

He already earned himself quite a few.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines

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iiseor · 1 month

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⋆𐙚 ₊ summer strikes . . . (2)

synopsis: forced by joel to spend the summer in a small town consequent her agreement to get sober—ellie's acceptance towards the situation grows significantly the moment you cross paths . . . masterlist

cw/notes: alcohol/drug topics (kinda heavy, this is ur warning). mental health issues for both reader and ellie, ellie is not Joel's daughter in this AU she just stays with him, implications of family member loss. fluff + hurt/semi comfort(?), Abby appearance who cheered ^_^ , shifting more towards readers pov in comparison to the last fic. . . wc: 3.2k tags: @boobdrug @seraphicsentences @amberputh @gato-chino @sourgummywormsss @shiimer @ellieusedtampon

soft sunlight beams through the lightly draped windows as birds set the morning temper. ellie's quilt draped over her body—half on the bed half slipping onto the floor. The night hadn't been exclusive, thoughts pondered her mind making it harder to fall asleep as the hours went by, a few wolves howling from afar in the moutons here and there, the sound of tommy — or maybe you, walking throughout the hall, and the lingering wonder of what joel was doing in that very moment scattering her thoughts until she dozed off.

as the morning crawled in and thoughts crawled out, tranquility filled ellie's body as if she was a new born child. It was the first time in months, maybe even a year since she had woken up without a hangover headache, spiking a nearly nostalgic like feeling. Rolling off the low mattress, she picks up her phone before sighing intensely.

no service

she rolled her eyes before throwing both her hands and phone over her head as she lied back down, still on the cold hardwood floor with her blanket slightly tucked beneath her. The birds had shuffled back into their nests silently and the wolves were hidden from the warm sunlight, ellie lays down for a few minutes before finally standing up, about to stumble out of her room to get washed up before tommy comes pushing through the door.

she jumps back, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. "Oh hey kid ur awake" he says before looking her up and down slightly, ellie rubbing the back of her head in response. "Just came here to tell you to go get washed up, breakfast is on the table then y/n will show you around the farm and whatever, I gotta head into town so I'll see you later" he added. "got it, thank you sir" she said as he tuned to walk away, before he turned back for a second to add another word, hand still on the door knob "tommy is fine, don't use sir..... it makes me feel old" he laughed and she reciprocated before they went their separate ways.

Ellie washed up, staring at herself hard in the mirror after her shower for what felt like eternity as she tried to convince herself this was good. it's all good, and she'll be okay. before she made her way downstairs to eat another full meal, something she remembered looking forward to again after dinner and during her pre-sleep thoughts.

"Hey els!" You greeted her from the table while she came down the stairs. 'Els'... you already gave her a nickname ? She questioned to herself, trying to hide her blushed face. "Hey.." she breathed out in response, you smiled at her in return while she made her way towards the table. "Help yourself! I already finished eating and so did tommy.. did Tommy tell you the plans for today ?" You spoke, picking ur plate up and walking to the kitchen. "Uhm .. no" Ellie replied placing food onto her plate, amazed at the variety and bright colours of fresh vegetables + fruit.

"Oh I figured, I'll take you out to the lake so we can catch some fish for dinner ! I'll also introduce you to the animals if you'd like" you replied washing up your plate. Ellie's response was slow as she swallowed a big fork filled with fruit salad—"yea, that sounds good" she smiled. "Oh perfect!" You smiled back, "I'll go get ready, take ur time though!" You shouted as you ran up the stairs in excitement.

It had been a few months since you had last had people over, let alone people willing to go fishing with you. Your dad was always there, but it felt odd without your mother there to join. When Tommy had informed you of ellies suspected arrival, you spent nearly an hour planning places around town to take her—fishing being at the top of the list.

About an hour passed as Ellie finished the rest of her breakfast, savoring every bite and heading back upstairs to wash up. You eagerly got dressed in your prettiest sundress and shorts, not necessarily the best fit for fishing—but you were so excited it didn't matter.

"Here!" You said pulling a hat off the rack as Ellie came down the stairs towards the front of the door. "This is Joel's, he left it here the last time we went fishing ... which was like a year ago but we still wash it!" You said placing the hat on her head. Ellie's eyes dragged from yours to your lips as you adjusted the velcro cap, fixing her hair as a gentle smile was plastered across your face. "There, perfect" you added as you turned around to grab a sweater and car keys. "T-thanks.." she choked out, watching you in admiration—your pretty flowy dress and sweet scent making her face become flushed.

She followed you out of the house and into your car parked at the end of the curb. Ellie's eyes were flashed with the bright interior of your small yet beautiful car. Decorated with fake plants, lightly pink yet slightly grey covers, and a lili scented air freshener. "I'll take you to see the animals first!" You said buckling up as ellie did the same, "sound okay?" You questioned noticing her awkward posture. "Oh, Uhm.. yea" she answered, distracted by her thoughts of not Joel and everything else that flooded her thoughts the night before—but you as well.

The drive was short and quiet, the farm was close but you drove to avoid being attacked by mosquitoes. You pulled into the rocky driveway as you noticed a barn door open, to your surprise as everyone was supposed to be off today. "I think one of the workers might've left the barn door open" you told ellie as you looked out of the window trying to catch someone in your view. "I'll go check" you replied, ellie was about to protest that you probably shouldn't go alone but you had already left before her words could come out.

She unbuckled her seat belt, sitting anxiously as you went out of sight and disappeared into the barn for nearly twenty minutes. Once you finally emerged from the darkened doors, ellie was met with the sight of you—and a buff women with her hand wrapped around your waist. Fuck, she thought looking at the image as you two walked towards the car. "It's all good" you said opening ellies door for her to step out.

ellie felt short, small even, the moment she was faced to face with the blonde that stood beside you. "This is Abby! She's one of the workers here during the summer, abby this is ellie! she's staying with me and my father" You informed. "Oh, hi" ellie greeted quietly, avoiding eye contact with Abby. "Yea hi" Abby replied in a dismissive tone, her arm still wrapped around you as she turned to your face. Caressing it, she spoke again. "Well I'll let you two do your thing, I was just heading out anyways"

"Alright!" You replied as her grip turned. bitch ellie thought to herself about abby, as she watched the blonde walk away—you still standing with a smile on your face, oblivious to ellies mind. "Cmon ! The horses are around here!" you grabbed Ellie's hand and dragged her around to the stables. Once inside, you noticed how she cringed at the stench—letting out a giggle as she whipped her nose. "You'll get used to it!" you told as she laughed in response—the first time you'd heard her laugh since she got here. "look over here!" You added dragging her by the arm. The two of you stumbled towards the gate as a big, beautiful white haired horse moved its face in your direction. "hi pretty" you spoke softly as you reached to pet the horse, "this is starlight, my favorite one" you whispered leaning towards ellie "she has sensitive ears so we whisper around her. . . Go ahead, pet her" you smiled.

Ellie hesitated, looking towards your direction for confirmation. Once she saw that gentle smile on your face, she lifted her hand and planted it across from yours. Her fingers sunk softly into the horses hair while the two of you caressed it. "She's beautiful isn't she?" You whispered, "yea.... she is" ellie responded — her body being filled with a sudden sense of tranquility again, before your words broke her trance. "Let me take you to see the chickens" you whispered, dragging her away once again towards the chicken coop. "Hi sweetheart" you spoke squatting down to pet one of the chickens, still holding onto ellies hand as she stood watching. You stood up and walked a bit further towards the coop, picking up a baby chick, standing up and turning towards ellie. "She's a new one!" You told, Ellie starring in amusement. "Name her" you added looking up at her, "w-what?" she replied, her eyes becoming soft in confusion. "Name her! I'm always the one coming up with names ... it would be fun to have someone else with one" you hold the chick out for ellie to take into her hand, "here, hold her" you say, ellie placing her hands in the shape of a basket as the chick jumps from your hands to hers.

She admires it, the soft and ticklish feeling as it moves around her palm. "What do you think she is" you questioned, satisfied with ellies fascination with the chick. "Um..." Ellie let out as she thought hard before answering. "Maybe .... um... maybe lily?" She said hesitantly, thinking back to that lili scented air freshener in your car—was all she could come up with. "Oh! That's so beautiful els!" You replied. There goes that nickname again she thought—trying to hide the butterflies forming in her stomach. Ellie handed you back lili and you placed her on the ground, "there's not much else to see honestly, judging by your reaction to the horses I think we should stay away from the sheep! And the pigs will be even worse..." you teased, Ellie laughing back with a "yea probably". "Well, let's get fishing then!" You added dragging her, yet again, this time to the car.

The drive towards the lake was short as well, just a few feet from your house. Luckily for you two, the water was unoccupied and seemingly calm. You unloaded the fishing rods from the trunk and guided Ellie towards the canoes. Struggling to flip it over, ellie lended you a hand. "Thank you so much ... my mom always did this for me" you smiled at her again, "no problem" she responded. The two of you loaded the fishing rods into the canoe and set off into the lake, leaving behind everything besides your sweater, the bait, and her hat.

"So, first ill show you how to put the bait on the rod" you informed, lifting up a light grey rod and the can of bait. Ellie watched in silence, nodding as you showed her how to do exactly what you said you would. "Got it?" You asked in excitement, making eye contact with Ellie—which she was quick to break once she replied. "Yea, thanks" she said, picking up a rod and doing what you had showed her. You stood up and walked to kneel at the edge of the canoe and waved for ellie to come aswell. Once she does, you positioned your rod and swung it into the lake, "just copy me! It's easier than it seems" you watched her as she obeyed, positing her rod and swinging it the same way you did. She held it in the lake as you did, "wait until you feel a tug, then pull hard!" You directed.

The two of you waited a few minutes before Ellie was shaken by the feeling of hee rod being tugged. You lifted your rod out of the lake and lended her a hand as she struggled to lift her own, tugging at it before your grip helped bring it onto the boat. "Woah!" You raised your voice in excitement, "a trout, good job!" You said removing the hook from its mouth and handing it to ellie. "Here! Hold it up!" You said, walking away towards your sweater you had taken off and pulling out a camera. "Smile!!" You squealled as ellie stood and awkwardly smiled for the camera. "How cute" you chuckled, taking the fish from hee and placing it inside of the small cooler kept on the canoe. Ellie blushed in return, and you noticed this time.

She sat down and rubbed her neck before building the courage to speak "Are those edible? Like ... trout?" Ellie questioned in confusion, she was unaware of the diversity within fish—only eating sardines growing up. You laughed at her confusion as you removed the bait from your rod, "nearly all fish in this lake is edible, trout is similar to salmon.. like we had last night!" You informed before sitting across from her. "Oh.. I see" she replied. "It's good for your first time!" You said, paddling around as ellie admired the view of the slowly setting sun, and you—was it that late already? "We should head back soon, so I can cook it for us!" You said, guess it was late. "Unless your tired of fish already.. then I can cook something else" you suggested, ellie immediately protesting that she was fine with whatever and wouldn't mind eating fish for the rest of her life—now making you laugh. How could she possibly give up the chance at another fresh, filling meal? One cooked by you especially.. she'd be crazy she thought.

"Dad?" You called as you and ellie entered the seemingly empty house. "He's most likely not coming back till morning, so it'll just be us eating" you informed ellie through a sigh—catching her off guard with your change in mood. "We should get washed up" you suggested, taking off your sweater and placing it on the rack, ellie doing the same with the hat she had worn. "Oh, you can keep that haha" you told her, picking the hat back up and handing it to her. "Joel probably won't come back for it anytime soon" you added, walking past her and upstairs to change and shower.

The night fell cold with the sunset and crescent moon appearance. You had showered and changed into some pyjamas before heading downstairs and preparing food. The freshly caught trout with mashed potatoes and lightly grilled asparagus being plated before you called ellie down, who without hesitation came to sit with you at the table. shocked by the beautifully set up food, ellie sat across from you at the table. The sight, almost like a restaurant date—if it wasn't for your unstyled hair and pyjamas. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before you got up and offered ellie a drink, pouring her a glass of water—you broke the awkward sound. "So..." you dragged on, "how do you like it here so far?" You asked, biting into your food while waiting for a response.

"It's ... nice, calm" ellie responded, the two of you not making eye contact as you spoke. "That's good.... tommy says ur from the city?" you added onto the conversation. "Yeah" she replied again, you slightly scoffed in response—"why would u come out here?" You questioned with a concerned tone. "What?" She replied with confusion. "Not in a bad way ... I just mean, the city seems cool you know!" You added on changing your tone, attempting to hide the previous one. "Oh... I just ... needed to get away i guess" she answered truthfully though trying to conceal details, before you pressed for more. "Away from what?" You questioned deeper, genuinely curious. "Uhm..." ellie hesitated, taking a sip of her water as your eyes were on your plate, about to take another bite. "Just bad influences .... alcohol and that shi-stuff". She answered again, fully revealing with as little detail as she could contain.

Ellies words made you freeze for a minute, caught off guard by her words—you lifted your eyes to her face, already pointed towards her plate. You paused, thinking of what to say, you spoke softer this time. "I'm.. sorry els.... that sucks" you were careful with your words, trying hard to be sensitive. "It's all good, I'm getting better" she smiled, finally making eye contact with you today. You smiled back before taking another bite. Your mind debated what to say next, what was appropriate to say next, before you let the words come out.

"I get it though..." you lowered your tone again, Ellie's eyes became wider as she coughed a bit before replying. "You do?" She questioned, caught in a befuddled state. "Yea ... i mean, kind of ... obviously not personally like, you in a way ... but my mom struggled with alcohol as well, so I can kinda tell where your coming from.." you rambled on, avoiding eye contact as you spoke while ellies eyes were glued onto you. "I sympathize with you ellie" you added on, now meeting her eyes. "I can't understand fully, but I want you to recover, get better you know ... you're cool" you spoke lastly, catching yourself before rambling on even more.

Ellie caught on to why you had implied. Connecting the previous mentions of your mother with the current one, her vision of you softened with commiseration. "Thank you y/n.... and I'm sorry.... about your mom" she spoke more confidently, separate emotions covering up the anxiety she was drowning in only moments before. You flashed her a smile, "of course..." you replied, standing up to take away your now empty plates in order to avoid another fall of awkward silence between you two. "I can wash these, you already cooked" she said taking the plate from your hand as you were about to pick up the sponge. "Thank you" you replied, smiling at her, and then at yourself as you noticed ellies sudden change in comfort around you, so quickly yet so effective. She was more gentle, and less tense .. all after one conversation.

You walked up the stairs and your bedroom, turning on your fan to drown out the sounds of running water from downstairs before flopping down on your bed. You sighed, pushing yourself towards the headboard and crawling under the covers. Shutting your eyes yet not falling asleep, your mind was crowded. now reminiscing about the day with ellie, you were caught off guard by sudden negativity. You shouldn't have told her about your mom, you shouldn't have pushed with questions, you shouldn't have let your tone slip. Thoughts piled upon thoughts drenched your head making it impossible to fall asleep for a while. You were stuck, upset with yourself for dumping something so heavy onto ellie, and even more upset with yourself for almost slipping back into the disgusting attitude you worked so hard to get rid of.

Had she noticed? Does she see you differently now? Did you ruin this all for her so quickly? Did you trigger her by pressing so much? Fuck was all you could think of in response to your own question. You were supposed to be healed... better at all of this... better at making friends and talking to people. It wasn't ellies job to feel sorry for something like this, you shouldn't have brought it up, you lectured yourself. In truth beneath the surface, turmoil was still present for you. Tommy knew it, though you were adamant about being better. You knew everything still ached every once in a while—more than you'd admit, but you fully believed it was under your own guidance and responsibility that all of it would go away. One way, or another. You drowned out your thoughts with muffled tears as the overwhelming feelings fazed your heart. Falling deep into sleep as everything dissapeared from consciousness, you were sound asleep from dusk till dawn for the first time in weeks.

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cursedhaglette · 2 months

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Shoutout Sunday

it is so freaking kind of @littlejuicebox and @tallymonster to tag my work in their shoutout posts, so i wanted to add my own recs of fics i am currently wishing I could leave 1000 kudos on.

also fair warning, i'm a long fic girl. give me an OC to be obsessed, someone i can imagine my own hanging out with, and hopefully one that their author is also obsessed with. i wanna feel that through the writing. and with these, you can.

Pieces Left Stuck in Your Teeth by @howlsmovinglibrary / @wetcatspellcaster - i couldn't put this down when i started it, to the point i was reading it in the car when i should have been grocery shopping. i couldn't stop. it is witty always, devastating at times, and this version of Astarion is just terrible and hilarious in all the best ways

Not Your Sweetheart by @kittenintheden - the most natural dialogue I've ever read, and also the most hilarious. kitten also has such a talent for writing every character in a way that has me laughing each time anyone in her fic speaks. unless it hurts, in which case, it's gonna hurt a LOT

I Want to be Better; Let's Make Each Other Worse by @redrook - my frequent writing bud who's ideas outdo my own more often that not, Jack is an absolute genius and their fic shows it with every word written. the strange ox like you've never seen him before, dolphin riding, ceiling sex - you name it, it's in here AND it makes sense

Pour One Out by the absolutely delicious mind of @aevallare - auristarion supremacy for always. we all know kindred but if you aren't also reading Pour One Out you are, unfortunately, a fool

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal by @brain-rot-central - neech is doing something truly different with this devastating and delicious A!A piece. and for it to be her first long fic??! the talent is insane

Made for This by @olivedrop - Olive's fic brings me so much joy, not just because Olive herself is an absolute delight, but because her writing is so real and the way she captures the companions feels like it was cut dialogue it's so good

now you want some SMUT? OKAY lets talk - take these and call me in the morning

Think of Me by @scaryanneee is the smut fic of all time for me. i've recced this an unhealthy number of times, probably bordering on it being obsessive

inevitable by @aevallare the smut fic i rec the second most because it's just so easy to place myself in the moment alex writes and as always, i love when the tadpole gets thrown in while folks get nasty

Where were you when I was new? by @kittenintheden - just shut the fuck up and read this and you'll get it. also i'll never stop thinking about how kitten writes dialogue in smut because holy cow

Pent Up by @underdark-dreams - this isn't even Astarion I'm sorry. it's Rolan. i don't even know if i like Rolan. BUT I LOVE THIS FIC. it is so fucking good oh my god.

Careless Whisper by @tallymonster - okay i might be biased because Tally offered to mention Halia here and made her the goddamn prima ballerina, but this is also just So Good and such a fun read. modern AUs don't usually work for me, but this one is that charming

and of course, though i doubt you need my rec to know her by now, anything written by miss @fangswbenefits will make your toes curl. and i mean anything.

#astarion fic writers #astarion fic recs #astarion fanfic recs #astarion fic #astarion fanfic recommendations #fanfic recommendation #fanfic rec #bg3 fanfic #hagbabbles

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blughxreader · 1 year

Note

hi! i dont think i can ever get enough of yan! platonic! Batfam 🥲 can i get a neglected reader who has successfully escaped, only to come back to gotham by some unprecedented causes a few years later? i have plans to write a fic like this and want some inspiration (and to fill the yandere batfam tag)

Platonic Yandere!Bruce, Dick, Jason with a darling who escaped and returned to Gotham

Headcanons, WC: 1,048

Notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! This ask is five months old lol. I had to cut out the baby boys to finish </3 If I can come up with ideas for Damian and Tim then I'll add to it.

Bruce

The weight of Bruce’s mistakes hangs over his head every day, but his mistakes with you are by-far the heaviest.

He should have appreciated you more. He should have told you what you meant to him. Instead, he let you feel invisible. It kills him.

When you’re spotted in Gotham years later, he can hardly believe it.

He’ll drop everything and go straight to you, deploying all the boys to ensure you don’t slip away. If it’s daytime, Bruce Wayne will make a rare appearance and corner you with paparazzi, and if it’s nighttime, then Batman will swipe you off the streets before you can cry out.

He’ll forgive every outburst you give. You’re furious and he understands—he considers your anger entirely his fault so he’ll give you a lot of slack.

Bruce will drown you in gifts. Because Batman takes up so much time (and it was lack of attention that drove you away in the first place) he’ll try every means at demonstrating his love. Gifts, vacation homes, front row seats to events (with strict supervision).

This version of Bruce would keep you under 50 cameras and a body guard at all times, but he’s also very conscious of your mental health. Where he’d be able to guiltlessly lock you up forever if he hasn’t neglected you, he can’t in this timeline. Your life would be heavily supervised, but you’d also get a lot of perks.

He would make a routine with you.

Every morning, he’d eat breakfast with you, and every Friday would be a special dinner with just the two of you. His hours are valuable so it means a lot for him to carve out the time just for you.

Dick Grayson

Dick prides himself on his strong leadership and generosity. Ask anyone whose ever met Dick to describe him, and they could list pages of positive traits. So it's a wonder how you, his precious little darling, managed to be overlooked by him.

Guilt literally eats him alive. Dick begins to second-guess every interaction with you, going over all clues he might have missed. He throws himself into the investigation looking for you, investigating every single fact you've ever mentioned about yourself.

When you finally return, he's dead-set on making up for lost time.

Dick wouldn’t approve of your reasoning for leaving. You should have told him--should have insisted on being heard--instead of leaving. He feels terrible that you were neglected, but he feels worse knowing that you’d rather be thrown to the wolves than seek their help.

It's a steep learning curve for him to realize you're not the lonely child you once were, but instead a bitter, jaded young adult who confides in only themself.

Dick drowns you in attention. He tries forcing your innocence back, not accepting your refusals and anger. You're still so young, and even if the sparkling child-like hope is missing from your eyes, Dick still believes he can make things right.

Family bonding time is a must. He arranges play-time with you and Damian. He insists on Sunday movie nights. He learns how to cook new dishes with you and Alfred. He will keep you busy.

These activities are only a surface solution for a deeper problem. Fundamentally, you've changed, and Dick knows this. He has no idea how to treat you now, so he resorts to what he does know--your childhood he missed out on.

Jason Todd

Jason is particularly torn. He knows what its like to feel abandoned, yet he realized too late that he was the perpetrator.

When you are finally back in the arms of the Batfamily, Jason has no idea what role to take in your life. He sees you turning down the family when they offer love and he doesn't know if his heart could take your rejection.

Jason is stand-offish. Playing the role of "tough older brother" doesn't bode well, so he needs time to rework his philosophy on handling siblings.

Instead, he does your bidding. He would help fix whatever unprecedented reasons that led you to return to Gotham, no questions asked. If you need to pass a letter on to a friend, Jason is your guy. His regular possessive yandere tendencies are hampered by his guilt, so he'll be very lenient with you as long as it's nothing dangerous.

The fact that you escape and survived by yourself cast you into a new light in Jason’s eyes. He thinks you’re impressive, dependable, capable. He wonders how he didn’t see it sooner.

That being said—you’re his little sibling. You shouldn’t have to be so strong, and Jason wants to ensure you’ll never have another reason to protect yourself.

He hopes that over time, you'll trust him. He wants to be able to sit with you and talk about whatever is on your mind, to be able to hug you as he leaves for work, and to send you off to bed when it's late.

But right now, you need space. He'll let you heal, and he'll take whatever anger you give him. Because he knows that this is the only way you'll let him into your life again.

Bonus: Y/N

Considering Y/N was clever enough to escape the Waynes while also having the willpower to return to Gotham shows that they’re intelligent, good-hearted, and forged from steel.

They probably rank somewhere between lawful-good to chaotic-neutral. (A lawful-neutral would be infuriated by the Waynes’ underhanded tactics, and probably wouldn’t return to Gotham.)

Y/N is done yearning for attention (or, if they were originally kidnapped, done with playing nice), so they’re immune to the Batfam’s manipulation.

Upon first glance at the Batfam after all those years, they’d immediately go fight or flight. Y/N would pull every dirty trick in the book to escape, and would be as hateful as possible to kill any affection they have for them.

After being kidnapped, Y/N gets very good at playing mind games and deflecting their submission tactics. They’d be able to manipulate the household like a giant game of chess.

Y/N’s only weakness is the child inside of them that still cries for their family’s approval.

The conflict revolves around how the Batfam can extort this weakness vs. how well Y/N can stay true to their values.

#batfam x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere batman #yandere bruce waybe #dick grayson x reader #platonic yandere batman #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

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ooihcnoiwlerh · 7 days

Text

Hello! I'm back with another chapter of my Feyd-Rautha/Reader arranged marriage series.

AO3 link here for full fic: And I Don't Want Your Heart - Chapter 5 - ooihcnoiwlerh - Dune (2021) [Archive of Our Own]

Side post that has some of my headcanons for how I interpret Feyd-Rautha's own relationship to his sexuality: Hello, Friend - So I've been working on a Feyd-Rautha/Reader... (tumblr.com)

This fic and this chapter are 18+ up only. Tags, content warning, and full chapter below the cut

Tags/CW list: rape/noncon; graphic depictions of violence; dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced pregnancy; nature versus nurture; implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced sexual assault; implied/referenced incest; first time; rough sex; oral sex; vaginal sex; vaginal fingering; blood kink; pain kink; sadomasochism; period sex; problematic smut; inappropriate misuse of BDSM; slow burn emotionally but the exact opposite of a slow burn phyiscally

CHAPTER FOUR: A BLOODY GASH

You're fertile. You’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise. This union is contingent on giving him children–at least one son, and as many attempts as necessary to get there ( and you desperately hope that you’ll only need that first one. You don’t want to raise a daughter in this place, amongst these people .)

So you’re horrified when you wake up the following morning to blood smeared between your legs, staining your chemise that rode up to your hips when you were sleeping, and leaving a smear on the sheets below when you move.

No. No. You pull up the hem of your chemise and stare at your inner thighs as if just looking will change the outcome. Feyd-Rautha came inside of you four times in two days for nothing . He’ll be furious. He’ll question your very biology. He’ll have you examined as thoroughly and cruelly as possible.

You scramble, trying to cover yourself, wondering what you can even do next when Idrisa comes in with fresh water and coffee.

To her credit, she doesn't drop the tray when her eye line goes directly to your bleeding crotch for the few seconds it’s still visible.

“I knew my time for it was coming up, I just didn't think it would,” you say to yourself as much as her and come to meet her gaze.

She glances back down out of respect, but the awkward tension hangs between the two of you for a moment.

“Do you…” you start, embarrassment flushing your face and neck, “do you have anything for it?” You have no idea how menstrual care even works on Geidi Prime. You’d just assumed that it wouldn’t be an issue for another ten months.

She composes herself again immediately. “Why yes, of course, Na-Baroness. I apologize for my negligence.” Before you can tell her there's nothing to apologize for, she adds, “I'll help you get cleaned up first.”

“That’s alright, I can do it,” you tell her as you wonder for a moment who she served before that she’d assume you want her to clean between your legs when you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

She inclines her head further. “Thank you, Na-Baroness. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

As soon as she’s out the door you’re up and walking briskly to the bathroom.

You’ll need to have the sheets changed.

It’s only been two days, you think, washing between your legs. This doesn’t mean anything bad . When he asks for you, you can just explain the situation and try again in a few days. Until then…until then… For a moment you draw a blank, before remembering a conversation you had a few years ago with a slightly older friend when you asked her if husbands still desired their wives when their wives were bleeding.

“ They honestly just want something warm, soft, and wet to bury themselves in, ” she’d told you matter-of-factly. “ So most men just use their wife’s mouths .”

“ What do you mean? ” you’d asked, fairly certain you had an idea what she was talking about but still more willing to briefly embarrass yourself by asking than remain ignorant.

“ You know what goes on between a man’s legs, right? ” she’d asked in turn.

“ Of course ,” you’d said, a little offended that she’d think you so naive.

“ When you’re bleeding and he still wants you to please him, put your mouth there instead, ” she’d told you. “ Like he’s burying himself inside your mouth instead of your canal. You can’t make babies that way, of course, but they often don’t care about that . You can’t really make babies during your monthly courses anyway. ”

You wonder how she reacted when she found out who you’d be marrying. You never got the chance to ask and assume, like many young women and their parents, that she was relieved that she wasn’t the one hand-picked for him.

You also haven’t done that to him yet, nor any other man, for that matter, and you’re sure your lack of skill will show. How are you meant to take the entire thing in your mouth when you can barely fit it where it’s meant to go? What are you supposed to do with your teeth? It also just seems somehow more daunting and personal than just having inside of you in the traditional manner.

He’ll be aggressive with it, like he is in everything else.

You can’t stop thinking about it as you brush your teeth and hair and try to ignore the discomfort in your lower belly before you hear a click and the door to your quarters opening.

Idrisa’s back with a basket made of some kind of black synthetic material; it’s covered to protect its contents from passing view. You could kiss her for that, you think, and she starts unpacking.

She pulls out what look like thick handkerchiefs, going to your bathroom to stack them neatly on the countertop. She also hands you a canister that you open to find a handful of circular tablets.

“They’re not as strong as what I left for your wedding night,” she says, “and they won’t put you to sleep, but they should suffice if you need them.”

You’d chalked up your cramps to nerves but now that you have your answer the symptoms couldn’t have been more obvious. “Thank you, I think I will,” you tell her as you think about how you’ll likely be expected to join your new family, if one could call them that, for breakfast again. The thought makes you want to crawl back under the covers.

“Can you also please tell Feyd-Rautha that I apologize for missing breakfast but that I'm feeling unwell this morning and wouldn't want to be poor company in my condition?” you ask.

Idrisa hesitates, nervous. You realize that she's thinking, You know that your husband finds me far more disposable than he finds you, right? He could easily kill and replace me and no one would care. You also realize that she can’t and won’t say no to you. But just that look reminds you that as frightening as this fortress is to you, it’s much worse for her. You haven’t seen Feyd-Rautha kill outside of the arena yet, but you also barely know him; killing people who displease him over minor inconveniences, especially if they’re low-born and low-ranking, could be a common occurrence for him. The Harkonnens didn’t earn their reputation for nothing.

“Unless you think they won't notice if I’m even there,” you add, thinking. The Baron couldn't care less if he never has a conversation with you again, and outside of the marriage bed, Feyd-Rautha doesn't appear to have any real plans for you. “I could just…stay here and if Feyd-Rautha has any questions he can ask them.”

Idrisa’s shoulders had been locked and tense but appear to relax just a little at your words. “I can make a plate for you and bring it back here,” she says, already knowing your preference. Given Geidi Prime’s incredible wealth and lack of natural resources other than fuels and metals there are imported fruits that you’d never had before coming here that you’re certain you’ll never get sick of.

“Sounds perfect, thank you,” you tell her, and take advantage of the new medication when she leaves.

When she returns with another tray for you, she’s accompanied by two other girls holding a fresh arrangement of sheets; the hems and necklines of their garb are cut a little different from hers and they look younger, perhaps the same age as your little sister. You wonder if the difference in the way they’re dressed suggests rank? They keep their heads down and don’t acknowledge you other than a silent curtsy before stripping your old sheets and setting down a new spread. You look at them for a moment, wondering if it’s at the Baron’s insistence that no staff ever look a Harkonnen royal in the eye or if this rule’s been going on for generations when Idrisa snaps you out of your thoughts.

“I have a tea prepared for you as well, Na-Baroness,” she says, gesturing towards the tray that she’s set on your end-table and removing the cloche covering your plate. “It’s not medicine strictly speaking but it has soothing properties.”

You turn and look at her. She doesn’t look much older than you, but the same can be said of most of the female slaves. Are they banished to where they won’t be easily seen when they reach a certain age? What’s the life expectancy? It feels more than a little insensitive to ask right now, so you just let them work as you take a seat at your end-table and take a sip of your tea.

After breakfast is over and you’ve found a comfortable position sitting up in bed, propped up by the pillows and headboards, you read a bit more on the Harkonnen lineage. The more you read, the more you understand why Father always insisted that Geidi Prime is no place for a woman. Women in high places, you find, have in history been assassinated more often than the men, or kidnapped to use as collateral and tortured. You wonder if that’s why you saw so few at the wedding and reception, why they seemed so hidden out of view even while accompanying their high-ranking husbands.

You’re reasonably certain that your new husband’s concerned enough with his image as heir to the Harkonnen throne not to tarnish the alliance your marriage has created, that even if he doesn’t really know you and may never love you–you’re reasonably certain that he’s incapable of feeling such an emotion–he’ll still make sure to protect what he sees as his. His uncle will likely be another story.

The door opens unannounced and you look up, expecting Idrisa only to find Feyd-Rautha letting himself in without a word and closing the door behind him. He doesn’t speak at first, but everything in his demeanor tells you that he did in fact notice your absence and wants an explanation.

You compose yourself. There’s no need to panic. “Good afternoon, husband. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, tone as light and cool as the weather would be on your home planet right now.

He leans against the door as he folds his arms across his chest and looks you over. “I missed you at breakfast,” he says.

“Yes, my apologies. I’m not feeling well,” you tell him.

He clearly doesn’t believe you. You don’t seem feverish , he seems to think with his unimpressed gaze. You seem fine . “Still getting adjusted to the atmosphere on Geidi Prime?” he asks, and for a foolish moment you hope that he’s giving you an excuse. Maybe he thinks you’re avoiding him because of last night, and you’re content to let him think that.

“Yes, husband,” you tell him.

“That’s a shame,” he says, crossing over to your bed and sitting at the edge of it. “It occurred to me last night that whoever taught you close-range maneuvers didn’t do their job right. You should’ve been able to evade me.”

You wrinkle your brow and don’t have it in you to hide your insulted glare; your House’s military is considered a force to be reckoned with and a slight against your training is a slight against your House and your father himself. “Did you want me to evade you?” you ask.

He seems amused by your sudden sharpness, and you realize that he’d wanted to hit a nerve. He knew what he was implying and got the precise reaction he’d been hoping for. “That’s not the point, wife. You said yourself that you were out of practice and as soon as you’re feeling better I intend to rectify that. Your cute little boot-dagger won’t serve you any good if you can’t correctly use it.”

He places his hand on your leg, trailing it along your thigh and stopping just shy of your apex, his thumb brushing against it through the fabric of your skirt. You give a sharp inhale that makes him smile. You start to close your legs but his hand, now cupping your inner thigh, holds one open enough for him to continue to fondle as he pleases.

His hand stays there for a moment, stays over the light material of your skirt even as you're sure the soft flesh of your inner thigh heats his palm, as flushed as you feel under his touch. He leans in, inhales as he leans over you and sniffs your hair. It’s not even the first time he’s done it. You wonder if he finds your hair to be a sort of forbidden fruit; something he can’t say he likes because to do so would disrespect Harkonnen hairlessness, but still something he finds fascinating or even enviable. You’re not sure yet whether his lack of it is down to genetics or grooming but you assume the former, if it affects everyone including those who wouldn’t have such prime access to constant shaving.

But then he fully brings his hand between your legs, fingertips rubbing up against you and you flinch.

Now? Is he going to try and fuck me right here and now? You shift, trying to hide what you’re sure is a look of panic on your face, trying to scramble for an excuse as Feyd-Rautha rubs a whimper out of you.

In the moments he does and you freeze, he watches your face a moment longer and then something shifts in his eyes, and he pulls back.

“I’ll call on you soon,” he says. There’s something satisfied, almost smug in his tone. He doesn’t wait for a response from you before he gets up and leaves, and you wonder what caused his departure.

Idrisa comes in a minute later with more tea for you. “The Na-Baron seems mollified,” she says. “He’s taken the news well.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

You catch Idrisa furrowing her brow-line, incredulous even with her head bowed before she can smooth over her expression into one of polite indifference.

“He doesn’t need to know yet,” you tell her. “He said he’d call on me later.”

“My apologies for speaking boldly, Na-Baroness,” she says, “but the Na-Baron will still take you to bed tonight or whenever he decides is convenient. Harkonnen men expect their wives to always be available to them, no matter how they’re feeling.”

You suppose you already knew this. It certainly doesn’t help the gnawing feeling in your stomach even as the medicine Idrisa gave you has soothed the cramps for now.

“It appears I can hold him off until after dinner, at least,” you finally say. There’s that; you also appreciate having another meal without the Baron’s presence.

You wish you had someone you could talk to about this in which it wouldn’t feel weird to ask. You look over at Idrisa. She’s the only friend you’ve managed to make so far and while you don’t see that changing anytime soon, you haven’t forgotten that she keeps you company out of obligation. You can’t be certain as to whether or not she actually likes you, or if she only tolerates you due to her heightened position within the Harkonnen Fortress as your personal attendant. Still, she’s certainly better than no one to ask. She takes your old mug and heads for the door.

“Idrisa,” you start. She turns. “You’ve…have you been with men before?”

She inclines her head in a polite nod. “When it’s required of me,” she says.

Your second question dies in your mouth. Oh. Right . Yet again you’re disgusted but can’t say you’re all that surprised.

And instead of asking for advice you’re struck by another thought. “Has the Na-Baron ever…?” you start and she immediately shakes her head.

“Never, Na-Baroness,” she assures you. “He has never been known to satiate himself that way with slaves.”

Are you being honest or telling me what I want to hear? you almost ask but spare her the indignity. You’re reasonably certain that if Feyd-Rautha had taken advantage of her, he’d have gloated to you about it. “Thank you,” you tell her. You don’t want to know how men on Geidi Prime have abused her mouth. “I was just curious.”

“Not at all, Na-Baroness,” she says.

As the hours tick by you wish you'd just told Feyd-Rautha your situation and gotten whatever awkward ensuing conversation over with.

In the evening Idrisa brings you dinner, more tea, and a glass of wine. “The Na-Baron has given you two hours before expecting you in his bedchambers.”

You sigh. “Thank you, Idrisa,” you tell her, not quite willing to add, you were right . You eat, you have your tea, you bathe and clean your hair. And in the remaining time that you have before you need to leave, you sip your wine. You’d be foolish to assume that it will truly settle your nerves, but it tastes nice.

“I guess it’s time,” you say finally, looking at the timepiece on your nightstand. “How angry do you think he’ll be?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Na-Baroness,” Idrisa says as she opens the door to lead you to your husband. “He’s never been married nor been instructed to sire an heir before.”

When you get to his bedroom he’s already standing in the middle of it, wearing only black pants with a relaxed fit that suggests leisure, maybe sleep. And here you hadn’t taken him as the kind of man to own pajamas.

He looks over your shoulder at Idrisa, who seems just as surprised to see him as you are even as she immediately lowers her head in deference.

“Dismissed,” he tells her, and she curtsies and scurries out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone and rather more dressed than you’ve been in this room.

You stand, awkwardly, playing with the sash to your robe as the two of you look at each other in silence. Or rather, he stares at you and you look down, knowing what you’d rehearsed and still needing to force the words out.

“My apologies, husband, but it’s my time of month,” you finally manage.

“I know,” he says. “I could smell it on you. I could feel your rag in between your legs.”

Was that what he was doing? You look up at his face and find nothing that you can really parse and pause, unsure what you could say to that, before you move on.

“I know it’s not ideal, but we can try again in a few days, and in the meantime,” you try to sound like you’re not as nervous as you are, fully aware that seduction was never something you learned, “I know that there are…other ways to satisfy you.” A few days and we can resume trying to secure your firstborn .

He gives a small smirk at the second part of your statement but comments only on the first. “A few days?” he repeats, as if you’ve just said either the funniest or dumbest thing he’s heard all week. “What makes you think I care to wait a few days?”

You’re not sure you heard him right. “The blood,” you say slowly. “I can’t control it.”

“You think a Harkonnen would be scared of a little blood?” he says.

You’re not sure what to say to that. In hindsight, you’re not sure why you’d assumed that this man of all men would be too squeamish to fuck a bleeding woman.

“Strip down,” he says, after the seconds of silence that follow. He sounds so casual as he says it, as if he just told you to have a seat. You hesitate, still unsure if he’s being serious.

“Did you not understand me?” he prompts when seconds tick by and you haven’t moved.

“I do, husband,” say. “But still, I have to warn you that it’ll make a mess.”

“Y/N,” he says, his tone somehow light. There’s an element of danger to it. “You’re not the one who’ll have to clean up afterwards.”

Nor you , you think. “So you want me in this state.” You don’t phrase it as a question but he can hear the confusion in your voice.

The smirk never quite left his face but returns in full as he crosses the few steps over to you that leaves you close enough that you can feel his breath. He takes your wrist and presses your hand to his groin–it’s rapidly filling out.

“What do you think?” he says.

You gasp, almost giving an incredulous laugh as you glance between his face and back down to his groin. Harkonnen men are built differently, you suppose.

You pull away enough to unravel your robe and step out of your slippers. He doesn’t object to your garments being left on his floor instead of neatly tucked on his dresser, so you keep going, pulling your chemise over your shoulders, pulling down your undergarment and letting it slide down your legs, until you’re bared entirely for him.

He looks down at the blood that gathered in the kerchief lining the gusset of your undergarment as it hits the floor and you step out of it, and then he looks back at you.

“Hold your arms out like this, wrists together,” he says, extending his own to demonstrate.

He still doesn’t seem angry, his tone suggesting patience that you know he doesn’t have, but you hesitate before mimicking him.

“Very nice,” he says, and you bristle at his condescension as he half-circles you before heading for his armoire. You turn around to watch him open it, and your jaw drops when you see what’s inside.

It’s lined with whips, rope, chains, knives, scalpels, collars, and other items you’ve never seen before but if this is in his bedroom then it must serve one particular purpose, either on himself whoever has the misfortune of being with him when he wants to use any of these devices.

He glances over his shoulder and looks if anything delighted by your stunned reaction, the growing sense of dread. “I didn’t say you could drop your arms,” he says, and turns back to pick out a length of black rope.

You suppose you ought to be grateful that he didn’t pick out any chains.

You watch as he loops an intricate tie binding your wrists. He does it with such practiced ease he looks directly into your eyes as he does it. You manage to hold his gaze in defiance even as your heart hammers in your chest and you’re scared of what’s going to happen next. You know that, like a true Harkonnen, he likes your fear, but it hasn’t occurred to either of you yet that he also appreciates your fire.

“Get on all fours on the bed, pet,” he says, tone light and playful as much as his gravely timbre can make it.

You try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, making sure he’s never fully out of your sightline as you get on the bed, squirming but managing to maneuver the position he wants while your wrists are bound. He knows that you don’t trust him, and if anything that seems to elevate his excitement.

Good girl, he seems to be thinking. He looks you over, turning and sauntering so he can take a moment to gaze first at your naked profile, then at your backside.

You have to keep reminding yourself that he won’t do anything that will risk you being able to give him children as he turns away and pads over to his armoire. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s trying to decide what he’d like to use, or if he’s purposefully biding his time to make you more nervous. His fingertips seem to dance over the whips, then the chains. He briefly touches the handle to one of his knives.

Not the scalpel. Please not the scalpel.

You see it–corded leather. A black whip with multiple knotted tails. He takes it down from his display but leaves the armoire doors open–undoubtedly to keep reminding you of what else he could be and very likely will be doing to you in the future.

You think about the Bene Gesserit Litany and try to repeat it in your head as you consider the tool? the weapon? clutched in his fist. At first glance the whip looks like the cat-of-nine-tails your brother-in-law seems so fond of. However, when you shut your eyes, take a breath, and think of the words– fear is the mind-killer –you realize when you open your eyes again that what Feyd-Rautha’s holding is a lot smaller than a proper cat-of-nine-tails and the tails thicker. You have no doubt that this is going to hurt, but it doesn’t look like it will rip you apart.

“What, what is this? A punishment for bleeding? ” you finally ask, unable to handle the silence anymore and because that’s the only explanation you can imagine.

And yet Feyd-Rautha looks amused that you’d suggest it. “It’s because I want to use it on you,” he says, as if any further explanation would be silly. “Ever since I first saw you, I wondered what that pretty ass of yours would look like after I’d taken this to it.” He holds up the device for emphasis. “I wondered what noises you’d make. I wanted to know what you’d look like with your wrists bound, naked and helpless in my bed. What you’d look like squirming and bleeding.

“ Yesterday was a punishment,” he adds. “This is just fun.”

For you, perhaps, you think. It’s no matter; you’ll just have to prove that you can take whatever he dishes out. You just have to decide whether it’s better or worse that he’s not doing this out of anger.

“Are you scared, pet?” he asks.

“ No, ” you lie in the most adamant and dignified tone you can muster, and once again he acts like what you’ve said is cute. He clicks his tongue.

“You mustn’t lie to me in bed, pet,” he says, approaching the bed again, his free hand skimming over your ribcage, your side, your hip, as he finally stands beside the bed, and ever-so-slowly draws the corded whip up and down the backs of your thighs. The tassels brush gently against your skin and it feels perverse, the anticipation he’s building within you. On his second pass you inhale sharply, shutting your eyes, hips twitching away from the device, and Feyd-Rautha chuckles at that.

“Relax,” he says.

Fuck you. You know I can’t. Just do it and get it over with , you want to tell him with your sharp exhale, and one second later he draws his hand back and brings the whip down.

You cry out, rocking forward, your entire body clenching up as much from shock as pain. Nothing could really prepare you for this; his hand from the first night had been easier, more personal. The individual cords spread out like a fractal tree, like cracks in a block of ice fanning out.

The second time is less sharp, more of a thud that reverberates through your body, the impact reverberating in your pulse. Tears prick up at the corners of your eyes and for a moment you can’t breathe. It would figure that this man has used this device often enough that he knows how to inflict different flavors of pain depending on whether he’s putting the movement in his wrist or his forearm. You clench your fists, waiting for the next lash, and then the next.

Your nerves are on fire. You can barely think, barely focus on anything but the exquisite pain on impact, the sharp sting of the air against your impacted flesh, the sweet moments you adjust, finding your breath, before he comes down again. You don’t scream, not after the first blow, but the tears forming at the corners of your eyes start trickling down your face and then drop directly onto your forearms the covers below you when you bow your head.

You don’t know how long he keeps going, don’t keep count. The pain starts to dull but the intensity becomes overwhelming as he compounds on every lash. Your ears are ringing. You taste iron at the back of your throat. The worst part is that you find, to your horror, your nipples feel stiff. You start to feel wet.

It has to be a fear response. This isn’t enjoyable . It’s intense, it’s painful, and you can’t help but feel shame lance through you that your body would react this way.

Please. I can’t take any more , you want to tell him, but opt instead to whimper through your clenched teeth.

At that moment the whip comes down and it sends you toppling forward, finally collapsing. The covers are soft against your tear-stained cheek. You shut your eyes, panting, waiting for him to haul you back up and continue the process.

But nothing happens. You don’t try to look behind you and hope that he’s done. You just take a rattling breath and listen for the sound of the whip and its tendrils slicing through air, and it doesn’t come.

“You lasted longer than I thought you would,” Feyd-Rautha says, the first time he’s spoken in minutes, and you open your eyes and turn your head to see him twist the coils of his whip and head over to the armoire.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder. “Back into position, pet.”

You grit your teeth and force yourself back up on your hands and elbows. “Good,” he adds softly, and it’s embarrassing how one single word of praise makes you flush, sends a pleasant tingle down your spine. This shouldn’t have the effect on you that it does–maybe it’s because now that it’s over, you feel lighter, almost dazed. All of your muscles had tightened into coils, but now you feel pliant to the point that your limbs feel rubbery. You’re exhausted. You’re hurt. You don’t know what else he has on the agenda for you tonight but you just hope it doesn’t involve another one of his whips or ropes.

He sets the device back in the armoire and turns to face you. He looks at your flushed, tear-stained face and smiles, mouth-closed before approaching the bed, his cock hard in his pants, and even though part of you wants nothing more than to melt into the bed and to get some relief for your stinging backside, you know he’s still going to chase his own pleasure.

‘He’ll want your mouth,’ you remember.

You won’t wait for him to force it or grind your face into his privates. If that’s what he wants, you’ll get there first, and so you drop your head and fumble as you reach with bound wrists for the fly of his pants.

You’re focused on what’s directly in your eyeline, so you don’t see his brief look of surprise, but you hear his voice, sounding pleased. “Let me help you with that, pet,” he says, pulling away long enough to pull his pants down, stepping out of them.

It’s even more daunting when it’s this close to your face, but he steps back in, cradling your jaw, and you lean in and lick the tip of him.

For a few seconds that’s all you know to do, to lick around him, feeling the ridges and veins under your tongue. It’s all the verification he could possibly need that you’ve never done this before, and that spurs him on, cradling your head in one large hand as the other guides himself past your lips and into your mouth.

It confirms what you suspected; he’s too big to take all the way and thankfully, doesn’t try to make you.

Not yet, a part of you thinks. You try to breathe, try not to get your teeth on him, try to relax and close your eyes as he controls the pace. It’s easy enough at first; far from the rutting of the past couple of nights. It doesn’t occur to you that, by his standards anyway, he’s being gentle with you. Doesn’t occur to you to wonder why. You just try to keep up as your backside and the backs of your thighs sting like hell and you hope Idrisa will have some sort of lotion for it when you get back to your quarters.

Feyd-Rautha appears to have yet another reason to like your hair, it seems, as he threads his fingers through it, guiding you onto him in slowly greater increments until he’s suddenly over halfway in and you freeze, nearly gagging, forgetting how to breathe.

He holds you in place for a moment, just long enough for your eyes to widen as you glance up at him and his heavy-lidded eyes and chest heaving with arousal. He waits until you’re about to struggle and tear away from him before he relinquishes your hair and steps away, pulling out. You take a deep breath, gulping the air down.

“Stay right there,” he says, and settles in behind you, stroking your hindquarters like you’re a horse that he’s trying to calm down. Will he put a saddle on you next? You exhale hard through your nose, mouth pursing, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he mark up the stinging raw skin he’s already flogged with his hand?

Fine. Fuck you again. I can take whatever you’ve got. I can handle it , you want to tell him out of spite. You sense him shift, dipping his head, and despite your steeled nerves can’t help but gasp and feel something flutter in your core when you feel his breath against your lower back.

What exactly is he–? is all you have time to think before he dives in.

You jolt and wriggle in shock as he licks over one of your growing welts; you can’t quite tell but wouldn’t be surprised if he broke skin. However, it’s how his tongue glides over your backside before shifting his weight to your folds that sends waves of shock, revulsion, and excitement as you cry out, stunned.

He’s licking my wounds .

You’re trying to wrap your head around how salacious it is that his lips and tongue alternate between licking the impacted skin on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs and dipping his tongue inside of you. He has your hips firmly in place, which serves him well given that you’re torn between recoiling away from the heat of his mouth and wanting to press back against it. You can feel him smirk at the sounds of your shocked moans.

He pulls away long enough to turn you on your back and you wince at the impact before you see him slide down along the bed and continue the onslaught. You can hardly believe it as he grabs your still-stinging buttocks and buries his face against your bleeding pussy.

This is disgusting , part of you thinks. Another part of you can hardly understand what’s happening. In all your years you’ve never met a man who didn’t recoil hearing about monthly courses. You’ve never heard of anyone wanting to taste a…a bloody gash .

Your wrists are still bound, and you grip onto the pillows above your head as he lifts your thighs to rest over his shoulders and dives back in, tongue pressing inside of you.

It feels incredible. You’d prefer it if it didn’t. More than anything else, you don’t want to be enjoying this, wish the continuous whines and moans he’s drawing out of you were insincere, but he can feel as well as you do that you mean every sound. You, Lady Y/N of the powerful and dignified house of Y/H, are getting your bloody pussy licked by the ruthless barbarian Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and Great Mother and every forgotten old god, you’re enjoying every visceral and shocking moment of it.

He knows it, too, the smug bastard. He probably feels even more powerful like this, on his belly and with his face between your legs, than he did when he was tanning your hide.

He raises one hand from your hip to your breast, giving one of your nipples a cruel pinch, smirking against your slit as you whimper in protest, and continues. His nose presses and rubs against your bud in the onslaught and you finally admit to yourself that any last vestiges of resistance you might have had has caved when you squirm, rocking your hips upwards and desperately wishing that your wrists were free so you could press his face closer into you.

He keeps up his pace, bringing you as close to the edge as possible without reaching it until finally, mercifully, he shifts his mouth to your bud, his fingers replacing his tongue inside of you. Your unrestrained cries fill the room, spurring him on, and then the force of it hits you as he brings you over the precipice for the first time. It feels like it comes in shockwaves, especially as he keeps going through it all.

You’re still pulsing and squirming against his tongue when he stops, raising himself up and leaning over you. Inky, sticky blood coats the lower part of his face, from his chin to his nostrils, and you’re a little surprised at how the sight doesn’t alarm you as much as it probably should, especially since that’s your blood covering his face.

There are far worse ways he could be smeared with your blood . You gasp, still, at the striking color against the pallor of his face, reminded of seeing him in the arena.

He presses damp, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts and collarbone, as if to mark you with it. Finally he sits up, bringing your legs over his as he guides himself into you with his bloodied fingers.

He stays upright as he pulls you onto him, and you watch his face as he looks down where you’re joined, his groan like a rumble in his chest as he sees himself pumping in and out of your bleeding pussy. He won’t last long, you realize. He’s been holding himself back from fucking you into the mattress since he visited you in your chambers hours ago.

He curves in then, bracing one hand above your head to grip your still-bound wrists as his other hand grabs your hip to keep you stable. You realize what he’s about to do a split second before it can happen.

He’s going to kiss you with that bloody mouth .

You tamp down on the revulsion of it and the coppery smell, again refusing to let him shock you or give you anything you can’t take and move in first, leaning up and capturing his mouth in a kiss.

He groans into it, hips pumping, tongue invading your mouth as he speeds up, going hard, hips snapping into you. He’s relentless; this would be agonizing if he hadn’t worked you open and pliant with his lips and tongue and even still, it veers on the edge of being overwhelming. Your whimpers and cries only encourage him.

And then he finally comes, burying his face in the crux of your neck and biting down, not hard enough to draw blood but enough that it will leave a bruise later.

For a moment the two of you stay that way, then he releases your wrists and sinks down onto you, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he pulls out and takes a moment to catch his breath. After a moment he raises himself back up on his forearms, pauses, and takes in the sight of your face and your lips stained red before reaching for your wrists again and untying the rope; once freed you notice that your skin’s been chafed rosy but still fully intact.

He gets up, and you watch the lines of his legs, the slope and curve of his buttocks, the taper from his shoulders to his waist as he gets up and sets the rope back in the armoire before finally closing it shut.

Guess he’s done for the night .

But is he going to send me back right away? you wonder, turning to your side to watch the way he moves. It takes some effort. You feel as depleted as a rung-out damp rag.

He approaches the bed and wordlessly holds out his hand, and once you take it guides you to your feet and leads you into this bathroom.

Like his bedroom, it’s larger than yours.

He doesn’t let you wash your blood off your body; he wants it to remain on you until it dries and peels off on its own. Instead he wipes his face, rinses and cleans out his mouth, and gives you a cup of water to do the same. He wipes off in between his legs and then yours, quiet and strangely peaceful. He takes another cloth and wets it, and then grabs a small bottle out of a drawer. “Turn around, hands on the counter,” he says.

Fairly certain you know what he’s about to do, you acquiesce. “Did you draw blood?” you ask over your shoulder.

He shakes his head. “Not this time,” he says. “Wasn’t trying to.” And then he surprises you by getting down on one knee.

You give a small gasp. It just seems…lewd? Subservient? And tired and sore as you are, you can’t help the twinge you feel in between your legs as he gingerly presses the cloth against your reddened skin. You grip the countertop tighter as he opens the bottle of what you can only assume is ointment because after a moment his fingertips are smeared in a cool balm that offers such sweet relief you drop your head, trying to hold yourself together when your legs feel like they’re about to give out and you can feel Feyd-Rautha’s breath so close to the sensitive skin of your backside.

He seems to be applying the ointment to the worst of the welts, starting in silence and then adding, “You’re sensitive, but you have a decent pain tolerance. I like that.”

You huff a laugh. I bet you say that to all the girls, you almost tell him, and immediately think that that’s probably not true. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s tending to your wounds you’d assume that he’d never do anything like this. Something tells you that this small act of kindness isn’t to be taken lightly or for granted.

Once he seems satisfied with his work he gets back up, sneaking a glance of your face in the mirror.

Is he thinking about how much you’ve already changed since you’ve met? Since you’ve married? When you see your reflection you don’t see the same person you did a week ago. Of course he didn’t know you a week ago. He barely knows you now. Still, when your eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you with something almost close to affection before he leaves the bathroom.

“Stay the night,” he says when you walk over to your abandoned clothes so you can gather them up, get dressed, and return to your chambers.

You look over at him.

“I’ll want to sample you again first thing in the morning,” he explains, “so it’s more convenient if you remain here.”

You huff, torn between incredulity and amusement. “Taking advantage of the situation while we still can, are we?” you ask.

“I doubt it’ll come again for another ten months,” he says, and then strides, still naked, for the door. He opens it, and a few words of battle-language later he shuts again. He sees your confused expression and explains, “Your slave was still waiting for you. I told her to go.” He tilts his head in the direction of his bed, and after a moment you follow. It appears that he doesn’t even want you to pull your undergarment back on.

As soon as you’re under the covers with him he tugs down your end of it to get one last look at your marked chest. And after he’s looked his fill, he reaches for a switch that turns off the lights and even as the two of you can’t quite see each other, you still find yourselves on your sides facing one another.

“I wake up earlier than you’re probably used to and I’m a light sleeper. Your slave assured me that you don’t snore,” he says.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you tell him.

“Once you stop bleeding I’m going to start having you train in my Halls,” he adds. “I was serious earlier.”

“But for the next few days I’m chained to this bed.”

“That could be arranged,” he says. “In any case you weren’t complaining when I was licking your cunt earlier.”

He won’t see your flush, but he must know that it’s there. “So… is it safe to assume that none of this is…” you try to find the right words, “typical? For a man, I mean.” And in quite possibly the biggest understatement you’ve ever made, “You’re not a normal man.”

You’ve adjusted enough to the dark to see his smirk. “I think you've known that since before we met, Y/N,” he says. And after a moment he lays his head, settling in and getting comfortable. He doesn’t say another word to you that night, just closes his eyes and within a couple of minutes his breath slows.

It’s hard to imagine being able to let your guard down enough with this man to sleep beside him, even if he falls asleep first. Like sleeping beside a wild animal.

Sleep does come to you, though, after long minutes watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up and scare you, lunge for you, and it doesn’t happen.

You turn to your other side, facing away from him then, and the only signal you get that he’s not entirely asleep is that as you start to drift off yourself, he reaches one arm to pull you in closer to him.

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai @blazeflays @richardslady121

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#feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd x you #dune fanfiction

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zorrasucia · 10 months

Text

Yes, I do the cooking; yes, I do the cleaning.

Carmy x Reader (The Bear FX)

Tags: Set sometime after The Bear opens, Baby's first x reader fic - please be nice, Smut, Porn without plot, Porn with feelings, Oral sex (F receiving), P in V sex

Summary: Carmy looks distractingly hot when he cleans.

It had been a long day. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, cursing the shiny, new, black shoes you were wearing. You had been so proud when Nat had complimented them earlier but after a whole day of carrying plates in and out of the kitchen you were regretting even buying them. Thankfully, the day was over. The front of the house was dark and empty, while the back was still lit up but weirdly quiet.

"Yo, cousin, it's late," Richie called from the lockers where you were both getting your things. "I swear that stain will still be there in the morning!"

"Almost done!" Carmy yelled back.

Richie rolled his eyes. "Can you believe this guy?"

You chuckled. You could.

"I'll see if I can convince him," you offered and Richie huffed.

"Well, good fucking luck with that," he did a salute in your direction, grabbed his backpack and left.

You walked to the back of the kitchen.

"Carmy?"

He didn't respond. You could hear the rhythmic sound of him scrubbing the floor and followed it.

You found him kneeling, his chef's whites gone, leaving him in his t-shirt and slacks. Your eyes wandered to his arms, the way they flexed as he kept on scrubbing, the sleeves almost too tight. You had all seen him like that a few times, completely focused on cleaning, not caring even a bit that he was CDC, obsessed with keeping the place pristine. Privately, you had wondered about the state of his knees and whether his arms looked like that because of scrubbing alone.

"New shoes?" Carmy asked, his eyes darting to the ground under you.

"Don't get me started," you let out a pained sigh and he chuckled.

"Heard, Chef," he replied with a smile. You stared; he looked young and pretty when he smiled.

He kept scrubbing. His hair was messy - well, messier than usual - a few strands falling in front of his face and moving as he cleaned. You caught yourself thinking about how he'd look like that, hovering above you, his exhale on your skin...

"Come on, Carmy," you said, interrupting your own train of thought. There had been electricity between you two for weeks but it felt a little wrong to think of him that way. "Everyone's gone already."

"Told you," he insisted. "I'm almost done. You can go ahead."

You sighed. "Fine."

Was there even anyone waiting for him at home? Your heart swelled with tenderness for Carmy. Without realizing, you reached out to touch his hair, to fix the strands that had fallen out of place, running your fingers through the length of it. He looked up, his blue eyes wide with surprise. His gaze went from your face down your body, lingering on your lips, the slight v of your shirt and that bit where your skirt ended and black tights started showing.

"Sorry. I- sorry," your hand stayed there, cupping the side of his head. And he didn't move away either, if anything he leaned slightly into the touch.

"It's good," he replied, still on his knees. Slowly, he turned his head and kissed your palm. You inhaled sharply. "It's all good," he repeated, more warmth to his tone.

He got up on his feet, his hands cupped your face carefully. He was just and inch or two taller than you, enough that you had to arch your neck a little to kiss him. His lips were soft and pliant, his breath tickled your cheek. His hands moved to your waist, bringing you closer together, his tongue moved slowly against yours.

"I didn't plan this," you said against his lips when you paused to catch your breath.

"Neither did I," he laughed, his face was flushed and beautiful. "I wasn't sure- I wasn't sure if you wanted me."

"I do. A lot," you smiled. "I'm surprised you didn't catch me staring at you. I thought I was being so obvious," you added, wanting to add to the red of his blush.

He arched an eyebrow. "Wh- When-?"

It was your turn to blush, you averted his gaze. "You look very hot when you clean," you admitted.

"Fuck off!"

He laughed, a proper laugh, carefree and open, his eyes crinkling a little. You had only ever seen him laugh like that a couple of times. It made you a little proud to be the cause of it.

"What? You do," you insisted.

"What's hot about it?" he humored you.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "You're so focused. And your arms- You look strong," you cleared your throat. "And when you're on your knees-" you stopped.

"You like that?" he asked earnestly.

You nodded.

He studied you, head tilted. You recognized that look. When there was a problem that needed solving in the restaurant or when he was assessing the ingredients of the walk-in to plan a meal, he did that face.

"Alright," he said after a while.

He knelt back down, his hands never leaving you, tracing a sinuous path from your waist down your hips and thighs. His face looking up made your heart beat faster. You caressed his cheek with your thumb, gently. He closed his eyes, a content smile playing on his lips. So you kept doing circles on his skin, your thumb grazing the edge of his cheekbone and the corner of his mouth. A little tilt of his head and suddenly he was kissing your thumb - then sucking on it. It was sensual, slow, worse than you could have ever imagined. He let go of your finger and then his hands pulled you gently so that he was kneeling right in front of you.

"Carmy," you pleaded.

"Is this okay?" he ran his fingers up and down your legs, tickling behind your knees, making you shiver.

"Yes," you laughed nervously. "It's okay."

"Okay," he repeated with a smile.

And he started kissing. Your knee, your calf, the inside of your leg - he took your shoes off as he went. Then his hands moved up, underneath your skirt, anchoring at the elastic of your tights. Your hand was now on the nape of his neck, tangling in his curls, scrunching out the gel. He pulled down your tights, his lovely hands caressing every inch of skin on the way down. You hummed at the feeling.

"I really like your hands," you said.

"Yeah?" Carmy huffed - his exhale on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. "Is it the tattoos?"

"Mmm," you hummed. "Yeah. I think I'd still like them without the tattoos, though."

You took his hands from the back of your thighs, really feeling them, the callouses and veins, the long fingers - and guided them up again, hiking your skirt up, hovering above your underwear. He followed your lead, taking it off, leaving you bare and grabbing handfuls of skin as he did. He had been careful so far but he grew desperate. Before you knew it, his hands were on your ass and his face was on your belly, taking deep inhales, like he couldn't get enough. His face went lower and lower, like he was melting into you. He reached the place between your hips and you gasped. You were just about to say some breathy quip about not expecting guests and maybe apologizing for not doing housekeeping but he seemed happy enough with what he found, kissing all over, humming against your skin. You writhed in his hold.

"Still good?" he asked, his mouth dangerously close to where you needed him most. Your nails scratched at his scalp.

"Jesus, Carmen," you moaned. "Yes, good. So good."

And he proceeded to devour you. His tongue was eager between your folds, his nose kept bumping over and over against your clit, his knees where wedged between your legs to keep them open enough. One of your hands played with your breasts over your shirt while the other was intertwined with one of Carmy's, keeping you anchored.

"Fuuuuuck," you moaned. His hand held tighter to yours, reassuring that he wasn't going anywhere. You weren't quite sure how he was breathing, his face was so deeply buried into you. He shook his head slightly and you screamed. "Don't stop. Please- Don't- Carmy," you begged nonsensically.

He picked up the pace, his tongue relentless and his face shaking wildly - his nose on your clit was making you see stars. You barely contained the impulse to outright grind against his beautiful face.

"I'm so fucking close, please," you could hardly recognize your voice as you moaned louder and came harder than you ever had.

Your knees buckled under you, and Carmy held on with strong arms, lowering you gently onto his lap until you were both kneeling on the floor. You circled his shoulders with your arms, breathing hard.

When you finally came down from your high, you shifted in his embrace to look at him. He was staring at you in wonder, his face an absolute mess. You kissed him with all your might, with all the months of pining and weeks of not knowing. His tongue tasted tangy but the way he was humming into your mouth and holding you close made you feel you were the best thing he had eaten in that kitchen.

You kept on kissing for a while and he seemed content to just let you catch your breath even though you could feel him achingly hard inside his trousers.

"Please tell me you have a condom in your pocket," you said half-joking. You didn't want to move or let go of him, and you needed him inside you.

"I really didn't think I'd need one today," he chuckled, kissing your neck, making a sinful path down to your collarbone, working the buttons of your shirt until you were only wearing your bra. You thanked your lucky stars that it was a black lace number that made him widen his eyes and bite his lip. "Jesus."

You blushed under his gaze. "Your turn," you prompted, tugging at his shirt, feeling him solid under your palms.

He got rid of his shirt and your eyes wandered over the muscle on his arms and shoulders. He was broad - broader than he looked under his clothes and you wanted to touch all of him, to rake your nails on his strong back.

"I have condoms in my bag," you heaved. "I'm not sure I can stand right now though."

"I'll go," he offered. He kissed your cheek and carefully put you on your back. "I'll be right back."

You sighed and closed your eyes. He was quick to return, the moment you opened your eyes he was hovering above you, his hair tickling your forehead.

"I thought about this," you blurted out in your fucked out state.

"Really?"

You had never seen him smile as much as he had in the past hour. You felt adored and precious.

"A little," you shrugged, faking indifference, but you opened your legs wide to let him get closer. "Wondered how you'd look from this angle."

"So?" he prompted.

You were encased between his arms, everywhere you looked there was sculpted, tattooed skin. It was thrilling and comforting - fitting for Carmy, for the contradictions he contained.

"It's a very nice view," you replied, biting on your lip. Your hands traveled south, helping him out of his trousers, then palming him over his boxer briefs. He growled.

"Can I-" he showed you the condom he had retrieved from your bag. "I just feel that if you keep doing that I'm not going to last."

"Carm, you can do literally anything you want right now," your voice was breathy. He could. Not that he'd abuse that privilege - you trusted him so fucking much it scared you sometimes.

He got rid of his underwear and rolled the condom on. Next time, you would take a good look - and have a taste if he was into that.

"Should I be worried about whoever you were planning on using this with?" he asked tossing away the condom wrapper. His voice was small and it disarmed you.

"There's no one else," you reassured him, running your fingers through the hair on his temples. "I just like to be prepared."

"I do like that about you," his hands were gentle as he grabbed your knees and opened your legs wider. "Like so much about you."

You would ask later, right now you were occupied with the feeling of him lining up against your entrance, teasing just enough, then going all the way in one slow, delicious thrust.

"Oh, God," you mewled.

"You feel-" he moved back then forwards again, slow, torturous, making you writhe on the floor. "Jesus, fuck!"

He started moving faster, his hair dancing just how you imagined, but this was better than any of your intrusive fantasies. You could actually feel the expanse of his back under your hands, dig your nails in it as his rhythm built up. The sound of his moans and the slap of skin on skin turned you on even more. The feeling of his breath on your lips made you feel like you were about to leave your own body from pleasure alone. Your ankles locked behind him, keeping him near.

"Are you- Are you close?" his question was followed by an animalistic growl. One of your hands started circling your clit, echoing his rhythm - you wanted to come with him. Every thrust dug into the depths of you and took your breath away.

"So close," your moans sounded in unison. "So close, Carmy."

You came in a blur of white and warmth. As soon as you started fluttering against him, he followed. He kept going messily until your moans of pleasure turned into slow purrs of contentment. He collapsed on top of you and you held him close to your chest, caressing his hair and his back. He slipped out of you and you immediately missed the feeling of him.

"I'll fuck you on the counter as soon as I can get up again," he promised.

You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation.

"Please do."

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy x you #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction

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hyuckmov · 1 year

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haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby pt.2 (teaser) read the full thing here anticipated release date: valentine's day 2023 <3 read the first part here!

haechan x fem!reader teaser wc: 653 teaser genre: fluff & suggestive fic details: total wordcount tbc, smut (seriously almost entirely) and fluff anticipated warnings: as always our chest/boobs fixation, hair-pulling, my take on the classic riding him in his gaming chair scene, fingering, oral (f recieving), haechan being a mastermind male manipulator (in a sweet way), haechan not knowing what ovulation is, breeding kink, the usual brainrot topics....

a/n: NOW now now now now.... i have a good feeling about being able to make this deadline so i decided to post this now to motivate me to work towards it to :) i have a taglist set up (fill out the form in my pinned) but also you can just reply to this post/state in the tags if u rb that you would like to be tagged and i'll add you to the list (no need to do that if u alr filled up the form) !!! anyway i hope u enjoy this little bit and look forward to the actual fic <3 and thanks for 600+!!!!

haechan would say that his standard of living had increased exponentially since your second anniversary.

the two of you had become more open with each other, communicating your frustrations and needs more easily. there was also a faint buzz of something in the air, moments when you would look over at him and he would feel a blush spread across his cheeks, burn low in his stomach. it felt a little like he was falling in love with you for the first time — it had been a while since he had felt so vulnerable and loved by you.

"what are you thinking about?"

but perhaps the most significant improvement made to his life was the way he could now reflect on your loving and healthy relationship with his face nuzzled against your boobs.

"love you so much," he mumbles against your skin, placing a small kiss on your cleavage. "that's what i'm thinking about."

he feels your hand come down to stroke his hair gently, and he closes his eyes at the feeling. sunday mornings with you in bed — you scrolling through your phone while he's given the freedom to love on his favorite parts of you, have become just another routine that started ever since your second anniversary.

focusing on freckling kisses on your warm skin, he's therefore completely unprepared for when you card your fingers through a handful of his hair only to give it a light, but still significant, tug.

the sensation sends a feeling shooting down his spine, a slight shudder to his body as he lets out a small gasp muffled against your chest. feeling something stirring in the pit of his stomach, his legs begin to twitch against the bed, and he nuzzles his face into your chest.

"again, please," he mumbles.

he feels the giggles you let out right from where his face is pressed up against your chest. kicking his feet, he whines lightly in protest.

"what's so funny?"

"found something else you like," he hears you muse. "you're so sensitive, baby."

frowning, he scrambles to push himself up into a sitting position. the visual is slightly amusing — his hair mussed up, his lips swollen, eyes narrowed.

"it's not fair," he states. you reach out a consoling hand to him, and even as he continues to grumble, he still intertwines your fingers gently, a contrast between his unhappy tone and his tender actions. "you have too much power over me."

"what are you talking about?" you laugh, and he scowls.

"you know." he mumbles. "you can just flash your tits at me and i'd do anything you ask-"

"i can?"

"-and now you know i like it when you pull at my hair," he whines, a permanent pout forming on his features. "it's like there's nothing i can do that makes you go crazy."

"that's because i love all of you," you soothe. "all of you makes me feel crazy."

"do you have any kinks you're keeping from me?"

"you're my kink," you tease, but your smile drops when he scowls. "sorry."

there's a pause. haechan looks at you, hard. scanning your face, his gaze doing a slow drag down and up your body, his expression darkening. something had shifted in the air, and suddenly you're a little scared to breathe too hard.

"haechan?"

"i'm going to find it," he breathes.

"what?"

"i'm going to find it, and then i'm going to make you beg for me to fuck your brains out."

"what the fuck?"

but haechan shakes his head, and when he next refocuses his eyes on you, his eyes have the familiar twinkle in them. moving over to you, he cups your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your cheek.

"love all of you too babe," he beams. "i'm going to go make breakfast, okay?"

and with that, he all but skips out of the room, leaving you sitting on the bed, feeling unsettled and also just a little bit excited.

maybe it was time to call mark again.

tags: @91qowngus, @joonpantheress, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @krazy-kpoppy

#YAYYYYYYYYY #i was motivated to do this after i saw some lovely asks about my jaemin request #haechan smut #haechan fluff #fic: gold skinned eager baby pt.2 #nct fluff #nct smut

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willalove75 · 3 months

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The Estate | Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!oc Chapter 5

Summary: You have a relaxing weekend with your daughter before your first full week of work begins - and it begins with a surprise visitor and a spontaneous conversation with your new boss.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: fluff, angst if you squint, plot development

I'll add more tags as needed!

Notes: Chapter 5! In reference to the gif: if you know. You know. BECSPK gang 4 lyfeee💕 (Although my go-to is egg whites and bacon on a seedless🤤)

I want to SO apologize for not updating this fic in MONTHS! For those of you who haven't seen my Alcina's New Maid update (or my Tumblr post update) the reason for my lack of writing has been because I'm pregnant! I'm officially 20 weeks (halfway! WOO!) and have been trying to get myself back into a regular writing schedule. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the update!

Ik slow burns can be boring and I'm trying my hardest to keep it entertaining while also not rushing too much!! I have a LOT planned for this fic and I'm excited to get into the meat and potatoes of it!

Gif source

Saturday mornings are your favorite. They're usually relatively quiet, not a lot goes on and you get to spend some lazy quality time with Emma. Just as you're clipping her into her booster seat your phone dings with a text message.

Open the door, bitch

Rolling your eyes, you walk to the door and open it to find your sister, Sam, standing in front of you with a brown paper bag in her hands.

"Finally!" She says as she walks into the apartment.

"How long were you standing out there for? Thirty seconds?"

"Thirty seconds too long!" She says over her shoulder as she drops the bag onto the table and leans down to kiss Emma. "Hello my sweet little angel, how are you this morning?"

"Auntie! I'm hungry!"

"You didn't eat yet, did you?" She asks you as she opens the paper bag.

The smell of bacon immediately fills the kitchen and it makes your mouth water. The signature scent of an egg sandwich causes your stomach to growl in response.

"No, I was just about to make Emma something. Fuck that smells so good." You say under your breath. "Where are the kids?"

"Good, I got you a sandwich. And Tyler has them today. It's his weekend." Sam says.

"Ah, gotcha."

Sam hands you a sandwich from the bag and you eagerly take it from her.

"I don't think I've ever loved you more in my life."

"Ha ha" Sam sarcastically laughs. "Yeah I'm sure."

After whipping up Emma eggs of her own you sit at the table with Sam and dig into your sandwich.

"God I haven't had one of these in a minute."

"Consider this a 'congratulations on getting a job' gift." She says and you laugh in response. "How was it?"

"It was good, I keep saying this but it's really great to be back working and doing my thing. I missed it."

"Well I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. How are the people?"

"They're good, my boss is really nice, her kids for the most part are nice too. The CFO is kind of an ass, at least that's how he comes off."

"That sounds about right. Your boss' kids work there?"

"Yeah." You tell her about Bela, Cassandra and Daniela and she chuckles at Cassandra's attitude towards you.

"She sounds like a ray of sunshine." Sam says.

"You have no idea."

"Mommy! I want out!" Emma says.

"Okay baby, let's get you out."

You take Emma out of her booster seat and set her on the ground.

"Can I go play?"

"Yes baby, go ahead."

"YAY!" Emma screams as she runs into her room. You chuckle and shake your head at her.

"Well I'm glad you're liking it so far and that your boss is pretty cool. Have you told her about...?"

"No, not yet. It's too soon."

"She hasn't questioned why you've been out of work for two years?"

"Oh no, she has. But I danced around it. I'm not ready to talk about it in the office yet. It's nice not having people look at me the way they do once they find out, you know?"

"Not really, but I can understand. Is she at least understanding that you're a single mom?"

"Well, she just found that out yesterday, on accident really. Bela asked if Em was a mommy or daddy's girl."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. But I think I played it off well enough. And Bela definitely felt bad for asking because she blurted out that Alcina is a single mother too."

"Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah. Alcina shot her a look. A 'don't tell people about our personal lives' kind of look. Then before I left for the day she thanked me for being so kind to her daughters, especially the youngest one. It was really sweet."

"From what you've said she doesn't seem like the type to get sentimental with her employees like that."

"She isn't. I honestly don't know if she's ever showed anyone else in the office that side of her before. Everything is always strictly business with her, at least from what I've seen so far. But it was nice seeing that softer side of her."

"What does she look like?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm nosey and want to know!"

"I don't know, she's tall, like six feet tall and she wears heels."

"Holy shit she must be a giant."

"She is. She has short curly hair, really pretty blue-grey eyes. I've never seen eyes like hers before, they're beautiful. And she has the best figure I've ever seen, it's almost fake but you know it isn't."

"How so?"

"She has like, massive tits." You say as you imitate the size of her breasts with your hands. "And a small waist, but not like, too small? Nothing about this woman is small honestly. She has a like, perfect hour glass figure. But you can tell it's all natural. And she dresses like she walked out of the 1950s."

"Sounds like you've looked her over on more than one occasion." Sam says as she smirks at you.

"You would too if you saw her! Practically everyone does. She gives off this crazy alpha energy."

"You're single, right?"

"Oh god Sam stop. She's my boss!" You say as your cheeks turn pink.

"That hasn't stopped people before!"

"You're ridiculous. No."

"You're turning red!"

"I've been there three days! I can't have a crush on my boss! Plus, just because she's a single parent doesn't mean she isn't seeing anyone. And I doubt she's into women and she's. My. Boss."

"Whatever you say." Sam says with a smirk as she cleans up the table.

"You are a pain in my ass."

"Yet you love me anyway. So how's sassy pants downstairs?"

"Margie? She's fine, same as usual. She finally gave up driving, thank god."

"Oh fucking finally. Deb's been trying to convince her mother to stop driving for years. What made her finally give in?"

"Well, a few months ago she ran into the garage door."

"Oh Jesus."

"So she bargained. She said she would stop driving if she could start smoking again."

Sam laughs out loud and shakes her head. "She is stubborn as fuck."

"The most stubborn woman I know."

Sam hangs out with you and Emma for a few more hours before heading out. Around one in the afternoon you put Emma down for a nap and you decide to jump in the shower. After your shower you get dressed and clean the house a little. Emma only naps for an hour and a half before you go in and wake her up.

The weather is finally warming up so you decide it's the perfect day to head to the park nearby. Emma squeals with excitement when you pull up and you can barely keep up with her as she runs to the slide. There's a few other kids at the park with their parents watching close by. You keep an eye on Emma as she goes up and down the slide a few times before growing bored of it and moving to play on the jungle gym.

Kids and their parents come and go as you sit on the bench watching your daughter. Dinner time is slowly arriving so you tell Emma she can go on the slide three more times before it's time to go home. After the third time she puts up a little bit of a fight but the moment you suggest going and getting dinner from her favorite place, she's more than eager to leave.

After pulling into the parking lot you and Emma enter the 1950's-style diner. The hostess seats the two of you and when your waitress comes you place your order. Not long after the food comes out and you start on your sandwich as Emma munches on her chicken fingers. Emma squeals with excitement when you tell her that she's allowed to get an ice cream and she happily orders a vanilla sundae, you of course also order one for yourself.

As usual, Emma is wearing her ice cream by the time she's finished with it but truthfully, you couldn't care less. After getting the check and paying at the register you and Emma head home.

Once Emma is bathed and dressed in her pajamas, the two of you pick out a book, as you do every night, and you read her the story as she falls asleep.

The rest of the weekend flies by and before you know it, Monday is back again. After dropping Emma off at your in-laws house you make your way to the estate.

Walking inside you see Cassandra and one of the other bartenders prepping the bar for the day. You wave at them, Cassandra as per usual ignores you but the other bartender, Dave, waves at you with a smile and a pleasant "good morning!"

Rounding the corner towards the offices you spot Chris and Alcina talking in the hallway. Alcina is leaning up against the wall inspecting her fresh manicure, looking like she couldn't be more uninterested in whatever Chris was talking about if she tried.

When the sound of your shoes against the floor reaches her ears her eyes flick up towards you. A bright smile stretches across her lips and she pushes herself off of the wall and steps towards you.

Chris stops speaking mid-sentence and gives Alcina a look. She returns the look and says to him "I already told you you can go ahead with the project, I don't need you to continue to bore me with details that are irrelevant." before turning away.

"Good morning." You say.

"Good morning Kathleen. How was your weekend?"

"It was good, quiet but relaxing. How was yours?"

"Excellent. My weekend was busy, as usual, but pleasant."

Just as you go to speak you're interrupted by the sound of a door being slammed open in the tasting room. A second later a voice rings through the tasting room and down the hall.

"DELIVERY FOR HER HIGHNESS!"

Alcina's head snaps in the direction of the room, her eyes narrow and you hear a low growl rumble in her chest.

"If you'll excuse me." She says through gritted teeth. You notice a vein in her neck begin to pulse and she storms towards the noise.

"Oh this will be good." Chris says with a little excitement in his voice.

"What? What was that?"

"You're gonna want to see this." He says with a smile as he walks in the direction Alcina took off in. You drop your bag at your desk and head towards the direction Chris and Alcina went off to.

Alcina opens the doors to the tasting room and her vision turns red. Waltzing into the room is her brother, Karl, making his way towards the bar.

"Cassie, hook your uncle up will ya?" He says, taking a seat.

"Heisenberg." Alcina hisses.

"Ah, there she is!" He says as he puts his feet up on the bar.

Alcina smacks his feet off and glares down at him.

"Do you not have any manners?" She says as her eyes flash with rage.

"What? I'd think you'd be more appreciative that I worked so hard to finish whatever the hell it was you asked me to make."

You walk into the tasting room behind Chris and watch as Alcina stands next to a slightly disheveled man. He's wearing a stained t-shirt with baggy pants and boots. A hat, sunglasses, and a trench coat.

He goes to grab the drink that was set in front of him, ignoring the fact that Alcina is practically shaking with anger. He takes a long sip of the beer he was given and pulls out a cigar, sticking it between his chapped lips. As he goes to grab a lighter from his pocket, Alcina snatches the cigar from his mouth and breaks it in half, dumping it onto the counter in front of him.

"The fuck was that for?!"

"You cannot smoke in here!"

"You're such a fucking buzzkill." He mutters, rolling his eyes and taking another drink from the bottle. "Cassie I don't know how the fuck you put up with this shit every goddamn day."

Cassandra snickers and Alcina shoots daggers at her. Rolling her eyes at her mother, Cassandra turns around and continues putting away the glasses.

Karl finishes off his beer and lets out an obnoxiously loud burp. Alcina scrunches her face in disgust and wafts the air between them away from her.

"You are a truly vile human being." She says.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry I don't meet your standards, princess." He replies. "Hey Cass, get me another round will ya?" He says, slapping his hand down on the bar.

"Absolutely not." Alcina says. "I will not have you come in here, make a scene, drink all of our imported beers and pay not as much as a dime for them. Up! Go," she says, shooing him away from the bar. "get the table and get the hell out of my establishment!"

"Someone's in a great fuckin' mood this morning. What happened, woke up on the wrong side of your coffin?"

"Karl you are testing the very little patience I have left." She says through her teeth.

"Hah! You? Having patience? I didn't know you were a comedian."

Alcina squeezes her eyes shut and rubs at her temples as Karl gets up and starts to head towards the door. As he turns around he sees you and Chris standing near the door leading to the offices.

"Ho shit! If it ain't the fancy CFO himself!" Karl belts across the tasting room before meeting Chris halfway. "Howya doin' ya son of a bitch?" He says, shaking his hand.

"Karl my man!" Chris says. "I've been good, keepin' busy. How about yourself?"

"Hope slenderwoman hasn't been too rough on ya!" He says before laughing too loud, earning another eye roll from Alcina. "And not bad, not bad. Your boss here commissioned some kind of table from me so I'm just droppin' it off. Nice excuse to ruffle a few feathers too if you know what I mean." He says, nudging Chris in the ribs and laughing. "And who is this little lady here?" He says, looking over at you.

Not a second later you hear Alcina's heels stomping in your direction, looking up you see her eyes narrowed at the back of his head.

"I'm Katie, the new marketing and social media strategist."

"Karl Heisenberg," he says, taking your hand in his. "the pleasure is all mine." He gives you a small bow before kissing the back of your hand and letting it go.

The action took you by surprise a bit and you swore you saw steam come out of Alcina's ears as she walks up behind him. Karl lets your hand go and Alcina grabs him by the back of his jacket and begins to pull him away.

"Will you keep your filthy hands off of my staff? God only knows when the last time you washed them!" She hisses before whipping him around and pushing him towards the door. "Go!"

"What?! Is this how you treat family here?! What kind of establishment is this?!"

"One I will have you removed from if you don't get that table this instant!"

"Alright, alright! Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm going, I'm going!"

Alcina lets out a huff and brings her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. After gathering herself she turns back towards you and Chris and makes her way over.

"I do apologize for my little brother, he is quite feral."

"Ah come on Alci, he isn't so bad!" Chris says and Alcina shoots him a glare.

"I told you, do not call me that. And that man is insufferable at best." She turns towards you. "I do apologize for his behavior."

"Don't worry about it, really, it's okay." You say with a smile.

The doors open once more and you can hear Karl barking orders to the guys lugging the table in. Alcina physically cringes as they bang into the doorframe while trying to get it inside.

"Ay! Watch it! That table is worth more than what you get paid in a month!" Karl yells.

"If you will excuse me." Alcina says before making her way over to the men and directs them where to go.

Both you and Chris take that as your cue to leave so the two of you head back to your offices.

"Told ya you'd wanna see that." He says with a satisfied smirk.

"See what? Ms. Dimitrescu and her brother?"

"Yeah! I've never seen anyone else be able to get her riled up so easily. Just his presence is enough to make the woman lose her shit."

"I guess." You say

It aggravated you a little seeing Chris find so much enjoyment from watching Alcina get frustrated and riled up. If anything, you felt bad for the woman. Luckily you and your sister got along great but it would probably piss you off too if you had a sibling that was to blatantly rude and dismissive in your place of work. If anything it's probably as embarrassing as it is annoying.

The rest of the walk back to your office was quiet, much to your surprise Chris seemed to get the hint that you weren't in the mood to revel in Alcina's misery and didn't say anything else. When you sat down at your desk you finally able to get started on today's work.

A few minutes later you hear heels on the tiled floor and see Alcina walk past your office. She looked less than thrilled for the couple of seconds you were able to see her. The door to her office opens and a minute later you hear it close and she walks past you again. Thinking nothing of it, you dive back into answering emails.

Once your inbox was taken care of you go to check your to-do list to see what you needed to prioritize for the day. Digging through your bag you realize you must have left your notebook in the car so you grab your keys and head out the side door towards the parking lot.

As you open the door the smell of fresh air quickly changes into the smell of cigarette smoke. Looking over, you see Alcina leaning up against the brick wall with a cigarette perched between two fingers.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were out here." You say as you close the door behind you.

"No need to apologize. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just left my notebook in my car." You reply.

Alcina brings the cigarette to her perfectly painted red lips and takes a long drag before pulling it away. She turns her head away from you and exhales the smoke. Usually you found smoking to be unattractive but somehow every single thing this woman does is attractive as hell. You'd put money on the fact that she could shovel a pile of shit and still look good while doing it.

You make your way to your car and find your notebook on the floor of the passenger side. Walking back over to Alcina you notice her eyes are still on you.

"I didn't know you smoked." You say as you walk up to her and immediately wish you kept your mouth shut. Why would you say that? What a stupid thing to say.

Alcina chuckles as she takes another drag before exhaling again.

"Yes, it's truly a disgusting habit I've yet to break. I had been doing well, however, my brother certainly knows how to get under my skin."

"I get that, siblings definitely know how to rile each other up."

"He is a man-child. A petulant fool." She grumbles.

As you chuckle a van drives by and slows down. In the drivers seat you see Karl. He blares on his horn a few times as he drives by, causing both you and Alcina to jump. Your hands fly up to your ears and Alcina visibly winces at the noise.

"Nenorocitul acela." Alcina grumbles under her breath as she sticks her pinky in her ear. (That fucking moron).

She takes another drag from her cigarette and looks over at you.

"You said your daughter is starting daycare this week?"

Her question took you by surprise for a second, you definitely weren't expecting Alcina to remember that from the conversation you had last week.

"Yes! She starts tomorrow." You say with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. Truthfully, you were excited that Emma was going to spend time with other children her age and be able to socialize more, but the thought of sending her to daycare also gave you a lot of anxiety.

Alcina notices your apprehension even though you hide it well in your voice. It brought her back to when the girls were little and she sent them off to daycare for the first time. Granted, it was more of a private school than daycare, but leaving the girls behind and going to work was still anxiety-inducing for her.

"Nervous?" She asks before taking another drag of her cigarette.

Knowing Alcina was asking about you, you decide to divert your answer.

"Oh Emma is really excited. She wasn't sure at first but as soon as she saw all of the toys they had she was thrilled. She was very upset that she wasn't able to stay the day we did the tour."

"I was asking about you." She said with a smile.

"Oh."

"I remember when I dropped the girls off at daycare for the first time. I think I cried more than they did." She says with a chuckle. You notice a faraway look in her eye as she thinks back on the memory.

Alcina walked down the large, ornate hallway with Cassandra's tiny had in hers. In Cassandra's other hand, Bela clung tightly to her. When they arrived to the classroom the girls' daycare teacher greeted them at the door.

"Good morning! You two must be Cassandra and Bela." She says with a warm smile.

Bela and Cassandra clung to each other tighter, staring between Alcina and their new teacher. Alcina bends down and runs her fingers through Cassandra's dark hair.

"Girls, do you remember your teacher? Ms. Jackson?"

Bela's blue eyes scan the room as she holds onto her sister.

"Eu vreau sa merg acasa." She says quietly as tears begin to fill her eyes. (I want to go home).

"It will only be for a little while, draga. I'll be back before you know it." Alcina says, turning both girls to face her. She wipes the tears from Bela's cheeks and shushes her. "Nu plânge, e în regulă draga mea." (Don't cry, it's alright my darling).

"Vreau să merg acasă, te rog." Bela says as her voice trembles. (I want to go home, please).

"How about you give it a try? I have to go to work, but then we will go back home and we can play with your toys." Alcina says.

"No!" Bela yells, taking Alcina by surprise. "Vreau să merg acasă la mami! O vreau pe mama mea!" She cries. (I want to go home to mommy! I want my mommy!).

Alcina can feel her heart breaking in her chest. Cassandra's eyes begin to fill with tears as she watches her big sister cry. Even though she's only a year younger than Bela, she still understands that so much has changed and that they're no longer with their mother.

"O vreau pe mama mea." Cassandra whimpers before she starts to cry as well. (I want my mommy).

Wrapping her arms around the two little girls, Alcina pulls them into her and they grab onto her shirt and jacket as they cry.

"Shh, shh. Nu plânge fetele mele dragi, nu plânge. Va fi bine, doar respira, totul va fi bine." She says softly as she rubs circles across their backs as she tries to soothe them. (Don't cry my sweet girls, don't cry. It's going to be alright, just breathe, everything is going to be alright).

Their small cries chip away at Alcina's already fragile heart. She squeezes her eyes shut, refusing to shed a tear, refusing to let the girls - or anyone else for that matter - see her cry.

After taking a few deep breaths, Alcina begins to quietly hum the girls' favorite lullaby. She may still be brand new to parenting, but the one thing she figured out that works was singing to the girls in their native language. It was one of the few things that have been able to calm them when they were upset or scared. Alcina's mother would sing it to her and her sister when they were young. One night when she was at her wits end, she began singing it for Bela and Cassandra and they immediately began to calm down. It's been her go-to ever since.

The girls finally stop crying and Alcina pulls away enough to look at the two of them. As heartbreaking as it was, she couldn't help but think of how cute they looked. Bela's blue eyes and Cassandra's hazel eyes always looked brighter after they cried. Even their flushed cheeks and runny noses made them look cute. Alcina cupped each of their faces and wiped away their tears before placing a kiss in the center of each of their foreheads.

The girls looked up at her and it was almost pitiful. So much of her wanted to just take them home but she had to go to work and she had to let them go. Taking both of their small hands into each of hers, she looked both girls in the eye.

"I know it's frightening, I know you girls are scared, but I am coming back. I promise, I will be back and we will all go home together, okay?" The both nodded at her as tears began to fill their eyes once more. "No more tears my darlings, alright? No more tears." She says as she wipes away the stray tears from their cheeks. "I need both of you to be brave? Okay? Bela, I need you to look after your sister, to be protect her, alright?" Bela looks at Cassandra and back at Alcina and nods. "Cassandra, I need you to look after your sister, to be brave for her, can you do that for me?" Cassandra wipes her nose and nods at Alcina.

She strokes their hair before pulling the girls back in for a tight hug.

"Vă iubesc, vă iubesc atât de mult fetelor. Mă întorc, promit dragilor mei. Mă voi întoarce după tine. Nu te voi lăsa." Alcina whispers to them before giving them one last squeeze and letting go. (I love you, I love you girls so much. I'm coming back, I promise my darlings. I'll come back for you. I will never leave you).

Alcina stands up and straightens out her shirt and jacket. She takes the girls hands in each of hers and guides them to their teacher. Ms. Jackson smiles down at the girls and points out all of the toys scattered around the room. Cassandra eyes a baby doll and another little girl picks it up. The girl sees Cassandra and walks over to her.

"Play?" The little girl asks.

Cassandra looks up at Alcina and Alcina smiles down at her.

"Go ahead darling, go play."

Cassandra hesitantly releases Alcina's hand and looks at Bela, reaching out towards her. Bela's grip on Alcina tightens and Alcina strokes her hair.

"It's alright love, go play with them."

Bela looks up at Alcina who nods. After contemplating for a moment, Bela takes Cassandra's hand and the three little girls make their way over to the rug and begin playing with the toys.

Alcina takes the opportunity while they are distracted to thank the teacher and leave before they see her again. With her heart still breaking in her chest, Alcina makes it to her car and starts the engine.

Before she can pull away, the floodgates open. She grips the steering wheel and rests her forehead against her hands as she cries. Different emotions bubble up, but the strongest one is anger.

She's angry that the girls were put through so much at such a young age. She's angry at how unfair the last few months have been for them. Angry at the situation she herself was put in.

Alcina slams her fist against the steering wheel before pulling herself together. She takes her makeup bag from her purse and fixes her makeup before taking one last deep breath and driving away.

You can see memories flash across Alcina's eyes, memories you know nothing about. But you can see the emotions in her eyes, worry, sadness, and anger. Alcina snaps out of it and takes another drag of her cigarette and exhales.

"It's certainly not easy," she says. "the first few times are the most difficult, but eventually they were so excited the girls didn't even say goodbye when they ran through the doors." She says with a laugh.

"I'm sure we'll get there, but like you said, the first few times are gonna be rough."

"I have no doubts that the two of you will do great." She says with a smile.

With one last drag of her cigarette, Alcina puts the butt into the cigarette receptacle.

"Shall we?" She asks, nodding towards the door.

"Oh! Yeah." You say sheepishly.

Alcina opens the door and holds it for you. "After you."

"Thank you." You say with a smile before the two of you head back in.

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